Onliest

by J Daniel Batt

  The tiger wasn’t Eku, though. Its body was lean. Gaunt. Its ribs were visible through the thin skin and patches of fur. Its ears had large chunks ripped out. Deep, poorly healed scars ran across its sides and upper hindquarters. Existence down here had not been kind to it. Laying amongst the dirt, it could’ve been dead for months rather than just fallen within the last minutes.

  “Come on!” Kerwen shouted.

  Syn followed after, raising her flashlight to get her bearings. She gasped as her flashlight swept across Kerwen, Taji, and three other shambling forms silhouetted ahead of her. Taji led the way. She held her light ahead of her in one hand and, in the other, the end of a rope that looped back around the neck of the large figure behind her. The rope chained backward from the large figure, securing the other two silhouettes. All three followed in a steady, consistent pace, ignorant of the vegetation and crops ahead of them. They marched with a shallow gait, never lifting their feet from the ground, just dragging themselves through anything in their way.

  Kerwen lagged behind Taji and the three unknown others, although she was still some distance ahead. Syn jogged up to Kerwen. “Who is that?” she whispered, “What are they?”

  Kerwen gave a sharp, “Shhh.”

  “But, those look—”

  “Shhh!”

  Kerwen walked slower than before, and Syn matched her pace. Kerwen seemed unwilling to bridge the gap and get any closer to the three that Taji had on a leash.

  As they neared the ladder, Taji stopped and pulled her three to the side.

  Soon, they were close enough that Syn could see them clearly. They were humans—large men, their clothes hanging like rags. Their eyes were shut and one of them had no jaw. Upon each of their foreheads was a silver plate that Syn had seen before—Kerwen had used something like it to shut down the big tree mover that had attacked them in the desert. The strip was slapped on them and a dark liquid drained from its edges on two of them. The sight of them froze Syn’s blood. She struggled to grasp what they were and why they were following Taji. As they passed by, Syn noticed there was no twitching, no odd movement—now that they were standing, they were completely motionless.

  Syn was both mesmerized and disturbed at their presence. She pointed her flashlight to the ground and held her arms close to her, stepping slowly past them toward the base of the ladder.

  Taji sorted through her own pack and caught Syn staring. “Yes?”

  Syn shuddered. How could Taji appear so imposing, so huge? She was the same height as the others. She had the same looks. But not that huge. It was in her demeanor. In her walk. She walked like a giant. Shaken from her reverie, Syn looked around and then back at Taji. In a quiet tone, something much closer to the sound of a sigh, Syn said, “Thank you.” She wanted to blurt out, “thank you for saving me back there. I don’t know why you did it, but I’m glad you did.” But she knew the words would never come, and she could hardly muster them if she did.

  Taji stared at her then gave a simple nod before grunting, “You two go ahead. You have no idea how long it takes these to go. Just getting back up here was a pain.”

  Kerwen walked over to the base of the ladder and stared up, refusing to look at the things. “You have the remote with the updated macro Pigeon wrote? Right?”

  Taji nodded. “Ya. But I have to get each of them to do it on their own—one at a time. Then I have to scurry ahead of them in the pipe. Hate being below them when parts start falling off.”

  Kerwen chuffed. “Ya, I remember last time.”

  Taji pulled out a small keypad. “Hopefully, this will be the last time.”

  Kerwen put a foot on the first rung. “She nearly has an army now.” She ascended up the ladder, stopping once to shift the bags of apples into a better spot. “Let’s go, Syn.”

  Syn shut off her flashlight, threw it in her bag, shifted the other bag of apples around to one side, and lashed her spear against her pack to begin the long climb up. Her leg hurt from tripping and falling, and now, after the tiger, the anticipation of returning to Zondon was mixed—she wanted to leave this level, so Zondon had the allure of a place of familiarity. Yet, with each step, she drew closer to a horrible choice: reveal her world or not.

  The trek up was quiet except for a torrent of swearing as Taji worked to maneuver the three figures with her on the ladder. Syn heard the shouts from below her: “Just move it. Dammit! No, your foot goes there.”

  Syn thought she heard Kerwen chuckle. Her hearing was confirmed as Taji yelled from far below, “I heard that!”

  Kerwen gave an uproarious laugh in the dark and continued to move up. Twice, they paused on the ascent, latching their arms into the rungs and resting. They could see the light above them that represented the hatch—still open—into Zondon Almighty. From there, each step seemed to be heavier than the last. This was a miserable climb, and Syn felt every limb on her body threaten to rebel and ignore her choice to climb up.

  Finally, she and Kerwen came to the hatch and hoisted themselves over the edge.

  Kerwen directed, “Go get cleaned up. I’ll send Pigeon to get you when it’s dinner.” She took Syn’s bag of apples from her and walked away.

  Syn navigated the walk back on her own, twice getting lost—she ended up in the kangaroo exhibit and then in the alligator display, both of which were abandoned. She stopped to look back and see if Taji arose from the hall, but she never saw the girl or her three odd followers. It must be incredibly slow bringing them up with her.

  The world around Syn seemed frozen in time. There was no noise. No raucous laughter or shouts. There wasn’t the common jittering bustle of bots that she found in her Disc. No—it was simply a path and walls and the quiet, emptied cages of animals. There was no life in these walls. And without life, there was no sound, no movement, nothing but a gray world without color. This is why they want to leave, Syn thought. This is the world they have to endure, and it becomes grayer every day that passes and with each of their Sisters that dies.

  Back in her room, Syn relaxed. This wasn’t her tree. It wasn’t anything that she would’ve chosen, but it was familiar. It was a room that she could call her own—a space carved out for her that she didn’t have to perform in or constantly analyze others’ responses. It seemed to be so much work to be around others. She processed every word and every action over and over. She had been by herself for so long that she simply had not had any inclination of the sheer exhaustion that being around others would create. The climb had been brutal, and her skin was coated with mud from the fall in the tomato field, but it was the pressure of engaging with others that drained her.

  She dropped into the hot tub, sinking below the water to her nose and closing her eyes.

  With the climb and panic behind her, Syn’s mind replayed the events of the morning. In a flash, the realization came to her: those things were the burlys. Taji had gone down to the body farms. They were dead humans. That was who the burlys were—human passengers of Olorun that had died and were buried, only anticipating becoming part of the food cycle of the trip. But somehow, Taji (and probably the others) had both some reason and some way to raise the dead and direct their actions. Syn shivered despite the warmth of the bath.

  She wanted to be disgusted with Taji, yet the girl had saved her life. Syn furrowed her brow. How had Taji gotten to Syn’s side so quickly? Had she been following them? She couldn’t have heard the noise from the ladder entrance. And yet, she had to have come up from there as the body farms were below them two levels, separated only by the livestock level that she assumed had to be empty. So Taji had come back up and gone to meet them. So how soon had she found them? Had she seen them in the greenhouse? Had she seen the lights turn on? Did Taji know what Syn could do?

  The water continued to drip from the spout although she had turned it off. Outside, as before, no sound came. Yet, Syn knew she wasn’t alone. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Pigeon stood at the end of the tub gazing at her.

  Syn lifted her head from the water an
d frowned. “How long have you been—”

  Pigeon didn’t meet her eyes, but instead stared at her body. She whispered, “It’s time for dinner.” She turned and exited in a smooth motion without looking back.

  Syn shivered again.

  33

  Confession

  "Adam immediately took it and ate. Why? He could scarcely have put it into words, but if compelled, he might have said: an eternity in this condition is unendurable."

  —Martin Luther

  Kerwen slapped the table. “No! Not a chance! That’s not how it happened.”

  From the far side of the table, Neci chucked an apple core at her. “It did. It did so. Taj? Come on? Help me out on this! You were completely lost. We walked around down there for two days because of you.”

  Taji held her hands up. “I said you both had it wrong the first day.”

  “What?” came the mock offense from both Kerwen and Neci.

  Syn had entered the room and walked up to the table in time to catch this exchange.

  Kerwen pointed at Syn. “Syn! You were down there today! Come on, don’t you see how easy it is to get turned around in the Farms.”

  Syn pulled out a chair and sat down. “Ya. I would’ve been lost without you.”

  “You would’ve been that tiger’s lunch!” Taji said, pointing and laughing.

  Syn’s eyes went wide and her cheeks reddened.

  “What?” Neci asked, her tone darkening.

  Kerwen jumped in. “Syn went to pick a tomato and ran into one of the escaped tigers. I think it’s one of the last. Looked like Booska.”

  “The mean one?” Pigeon asked and all four turned to notice her, surprised to see her sitting at the table with them and unsure as to when she had entered. Syn was positive only the three others had been there when she had just walked in. She corrected the thought—there had been the three other girls and four burlys located across the room. The burlys stood unmoving, and she was disturbed at how easily she had begun to take them for granted. They were animated dead people, corpses given life. And she was expected to eat dinner next to them.

  Taji shook her head. “Booska. Mif. Kance. Those are the only three tigers still roaming alive. I’m pretty sure it was Booska. And that moron decided to try and pet it.”

  Neci’s eyes narrowed.

  Syn shook her head. “I just…I wasn’t trying to—”

  Kerwen handed a bowl of leafy greens to Syn. “Taji saved your life. But admit it, anyone can get lost down there.”

  Syn nodded, glad to have the focus off of her nearly life-ending mistake. She filled her plate with the green leaves (they looked like dandelions to her) and an apple but passed on the tray of meat.

  The table went silent, and they each ate a few bites without word. Kerwen broke the quiet, “I’m wanting to find a way to get tomatoes up here. They’re growing like crazy, and it would be really good to have some for dinner. Maybe fry them up or add them to the salad.”

  Pigeon spoke, “We could haul them up in a basket.”

  “Ain’t got rope that long,” Taji said, her mouth full of food, spitting crumbs as she spoke.

  “We could do it in segments. We could position ourselves as far as the rope will take us and then pull it up by wrapping it around a rung,” Kerwen said.

  “No,” Pigeon shook her head, “It’ll bang against the ladder. Need a pulley that pulls it up the center of the shaft, clear of the edges. We could start collecting all the rope we find. It might take a few months of scavenging, but I think we could do it.”

  Neci shook her head. “We’re not going to be here that long.”

  The others looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

  Neci smiled and motioned at the burly closest to her to fill her cup with more water. Syn studied it. This was the burly that Neci always had with her. It was different. Its body wasn’t decaying flesh. It looked whole. Its features were solid, and it had a muscular build. It was dressed in a nice shirt that hung untucked and a suit jacket and denim jeans. Had Neci dressed him? Of course she had—even now, Neci had dressed herself in a flowing red dress with white trim. Every time she saw Neci, the girl was in a new outfit. Each looked flawless and not at all what the denizen of some wasteland should be wearing. Neci dressed perfectly. Her hair was perfect. Her hands were clean—except for the grease underneath her fingernails that Syn had noticed. And Neci’s favorite burly was the same way—clean and dressed as if he were preparing for an important day. Somehow, Syn had overlooked that he was different than the others.

  Neci caught where Syn had directed her attention and gave a thin grin. Syn turned her eyes back to her plate.

  Neci continued, “With the help Taji found me, we’re going get through or we’re going to force the Bitch to let us in.”

  Syn stirred in her seat.

  Kerwen glanced at her, then turned to Neci. “Syn doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Tell her.”

  Taji shook her head. “Not yet.”

  Neci glanced at Pigeon, who eyed the ground nervously. Pigeon stammered, “I’m with…Ker. She should know.”

  Taji grunted and flicked a grape in Pigeon’s direction. Pigeon didn’t flinch as the grape soared past her nose.

  Neci smiled, “Fine. She should know.” She leaned in to the table and whispered, “There shouldn’t be any secrets between sisters.”

  Syn’s blood turned to ice.

  “I don’t know how much you know about Olorun, but I’ll share with you some of the basics. We are on our way to another star. Kapteyn’s Star to be precise.”

  Syn nodded. This she had learned in the white room, and she felt safe acknowledging any of the training she had received there—she assumed it was the same for each of the others. At least that part of their existence had been the same.

  Neci continued, “It was one of the ways that the ship builders worked. They like to build everything in multiples.” She motioned around the table. “Like us. One wouldn’t do.”

  Syn’s stomach tightened.

  “So, they planned for there to be several of us. Copies, each one identical, to begin with. But this isn’t the only way this process works on Olorun. There’s more than one Jacob lift. In fact, each lift has two pods, side by side. If one fails, the other works. Everywhere you go, there’s a backup for everything in Olorun.”

  Syn nodded. She had seen and noticed exactly what Neci was saying. There was a duplication to everything. There would never have been a single control panel, at least not one of the important ones—each of those had a second, nearly identical, version nearby. If one failed, the other would work.

  “I think that they didn’t just extend this to the big bots or to us. I think they made the ship that way.”

  The other girls remained quiet. Nothing Neci had said alarmed them. They had all heard this before.

  “I think there’s another Disc.”

  Syn froze but then remembered that she was supposed to be hearing this for the first time. She feigned surprise and leaned in. “Really?” she asked.

  “I’ve seen the maps. In the upper settlements, there’s several command rooms. They smell like the passengers and the builders. The rooms are light-colored, pale. On the walls are hung the faces of the Orishas—just like the giant ones high up on the Jacobs staring down at us. In one of those rooms, in a drawer, I found scrolls. Large white sheets of paper rolled up. They showed a map of Olorun. The first few I found were just pictures of our Disc. It showed me where everything was on the Disc. All of the upper settlements, the dwellings on the Rise, the lower farm levels, the groves, body farms, and access points to the water level below. It was all there.”

  Kerwen interjected, “I don’t think we would’ve survived had she not found those.”

  There was a general murmur of agreement from Taji and Pigeon.

  Neci continued, “Map upon map that showed every meter of the Disc. Then, I found the one map that showed the ship from outside—I remember I couldn’t breathe when I
saw it—there were two Discs. I knew what the gate was for. I had assumed, and my rotten companion had agreed, that it was the entrance back to the engine room and that it was dangerous to try and cross that. If the engines were working, why bother? Lying piece of scum!” Neci leaned in further. “Never, ever on our side. Always on hers.”

  Syn squirmed. So why haven’t you destroyed Blip? But she didn’t want to ask that.

  Neci sat back. “And I don’t think it was ever inhabited. Remember the magic word of the builders was redundancy. That Disc was a backup in case something went wrong. Well, something went wrong and instead of letting us have access to the backup, Olorun locked us up in here.”

  Syn stammered, knowing she should say something, “Have you tried to open the gate?”

  Taji roared at this and slapped her hand on the table. “Tried to punch our way through!”

  Syn’s eyes darted between the others. The explosion had been them. Syn’s stomach tightened. Did they know her secret? Were they teasing her?

  Neci held out a hand. “We tried many different ways. The last one was a bit—”

  Kerwen interjected, “Overkill?”

  Neci shook her head. “Maybe. But we still didn’t get through. So it couldn’t have been enough.”

  “We found explosives and detonated them. Boom. Big ba-da boom!” Taji laughed more and shoveled food in her mouth at the same time.

  “Just imagine. Another world like this one. But it wasn’t destroyed by those stupid predators. It wasn’t corrupted by the passengers. It’s just there. Green fields. Trees. Empty houses. All of it is just there for us.”

  Kerwen added, “We wouldn’t have to live in fear ever again. No worries about the wild machines. No worries about tigers. Not a one of us has to die ever again.”

  Syn saw the desperation in Kerwen’s gaze. Her words were backed with years of pain. Her chest felt heavy and something deep inside her ached. She imagined this room filled with the rest of the Sisters—a room of faded half-images—ghosts now against the real world. Syn had never had a sister, let alone a real flesh and blood friend, and she could not imagine the widening furrow of pain that Kerwen felt as she thought of her dead friends. Tears welled in Syn’s eyes, and she pushed at them with the back of her hand, hoping to hide her own shared ache.