The Battle for WondLa

by Tony DiTerlizzi

  “Understood. We will be there in just a couple of minutes.”

  “Let uz go, den.” Redimus scrambled out of the cabin. In the loading area he quickly unstrapped his glider and unfolded its wings.

  “Almost there,” Hækel called out from the cockpit.

  “Speak your truth. That’s all you can do, right?” Antiquus squeezed Eva’s hand.

  Eva nodded.

  “Ruzender, open de loading ramp.” Redimus started the engine of the glider. “Eva Nine, geet on and be quick!” He tossed her a pair of flying goggles.

  Rovender gave Eva a hug. “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

  “I know.” Eva hugged him tight. “But if there is a chance to change this, I have to try.”

  “Very well. Please be careful.” Rovender kissed the top of her head.

  “I will.” Eva climbed onto the back saddle of the glider. She donned her goggles and grasped the passenger handgrips mounted on either side of her seat. At this proximity to the Dorcean, Eva smelled his earthy musky scent. It was a scent similar to that of the horned beast that had stalked her in the forest.

  “I will return her zafely home after de meeting.” Redimus pulled a large flight cap with goggles over his face. With his eye patch now covered, he looked just like Besteel.

  “I’ll see you back at the village.” Rovender waved. He opened the loading ramp.

  The glider dropped out of the shuttle toward the tall spire of the palace. Near the spire’s pointed peak was an alcove carved into the wall.

  “It’s so windy,” shouted Eva. “Can you land?” The tattered pennants that hung from the palace spire flapped in the gusts as if they would break free from the cable that tethered them.

  With ease Redimus wove the glider through the pennants. “Do not be afraid,” he said over his shoulder, “but do not look down.” A strong gust buffeted the glider’s wings, but Redimus’s reflexes were quick. He compensated for the wind and brought the craft level again.

  Despite the warning, Eva glanced to the ground far below. Though they were almost to the alcove, their height made her feel dizzy. She clutched the handgrips tight.

  The glider swooped down and landed on a wide balcony. Redimus shut off the engine and dismounted. “Let uz hurry, Eva Nine. You cannot be zpotted.”

  Eva climbed off the seat and looked out over the grand balcony. The city’s battered skyline was laid out before her. This must have been a majestic view, she thought, before the battle. At the foot of the palace she saw the Cærulean shuttle land next to other ships already docked along the waterfront. “Good luck, Rovee,” she whispered before joining Redimus at the balcony doors.

  Redimus pushed open one of the tall double doors and led Eva down a curved staircase into an ornate bedchamber. The opulent room was gigantic by human standards. Exquisite ornate patterns decorated every centimeter of the walls, which led up to an intricate mural that covered the entire ceiling.

  At the center of the room hung a chandelier larger than the glider that Eva had just flown in on. Radiating from the finial that held the chandelier was a series of long thin metal rods, each ending in a colorfully painted sphere. It brought to mind holograms of old orreries that Eva had studied in her history programs. But this orrery represented no solar system that she was familiar with.

  A towering curtain-framed bed sat opposite the balcony staircase, draped in the finest fabrics ever seen. As Eva walked closer to the bed, she realized the pattern on the fabric seemed to ebb and flow like ripples on water. In fact, the decorative wallpaper appeared to be doing the same thing. Along with the spinning orrery in the light of the chandelier, the entire room seemed to be alive. And singing.

  Eva’s attention shifted to a large perch sculpted in the shape of an ancient tree. The dark patina of the metallic perch contrasted with the brilliantly colored tiny birds that sat upon it. Eva recognized the birds and their song.

  I sing the prettiest song. I sing the purest song.

  “These are all—” Eva started.

  “Treowes,” a succinct yet throaty voice answered. Standing in a curtained doorway was Queen Ojo. As before, she was draped in many layers of heavy embroidered robes over her tall frame. Several long pendants swung under the thick frilled collar wrapped around her long neck, while a large vocal transcoder hovered over her, following the queen’s every move. Iridescent eyes, made brighter by the dark face paint that lined them, watched Eva closely as the queen glided into the room. Behind her followed two royal guardsmen and another extravagantly attired creature, which Eva assumed to be a courtier to the queen. “Treowes captured from the forests beyond and gifted to me by many of the representatives who shall be joining us for our victory feast—a token that we shall always speak the truth,” Ojo said, observing the birds. Next to her towering figure the treowes looked like a collection of insects.

  “Your majezty.” Redimus approached the queen and kissed one of the pendants hanging from her neck. “I have done az you have commanded.”

  “You have indeed. Very good, Dorcean,” said Queen Ojo. “Wait on the balcony until you are summoned.” She turned to her attendants. “You may leave me for the time being.” The attendants bowed and shuffled out of the bedchamber.

  “Where’s Zin?” Eva craned her neck, hoping to see him float out from behind the queen. He did not, causing a twinge of unease in Eva.

  “He’ll be along.” Ojo walked to the doorway where her attendants had exited. She closed the door and locked it. “He is speaking with his brother.”

  Eva’s pulse quickened. “We are meeting without him?” She glanced around the room, looking for another exit.

  Ojo watched Eva and folded her fingers on all four hands. “I have much to do on this day. But Zin insisted that I hear you out as soon as possible.”

  Eva inched close to the balcony stairs.

  Ojo walked toward her. “I find myself at a difficult crossroads. Zin has told me many things since his return to our city. Many things that I was not pleased to hear in the slightest.”

  Eva took another step toward the balcony. “But I am here to help.”

  Ojo made a gurgling sound. It was hard for Eva to discern if it was a choke, a groan, or a laugh. “Help? I think your species deserves to strike this word from their vocabulary.”

  Eva dashed up the stairs and pushed open the large balcony door. The gusty winds from outside nearly blew her back down the stairs. “I knew this was a trap! Get me out of here,” she shouted, and hopped onto the glider. “You promised Rovee! Do it!”

  “Eva Nine, what?” Redimus ran to Eva.

  “SILENCE!” Ojo shouted. “Redimus! Fetch her and bring her in off the balcony.”

  Redimus looked at Eva sitting on the glider seat.

  “Redimus, you dare risk my wrath again?” asked Ojo.

  He plucked Eva off the glider. “I am zorry,” he whispered to her. “I had no idea.”

  “Put her there.” Ojo pointed to a large tufted stool trimmed in gold tassels. Redimus did as he was told. “Now return to your post and keep an eye on the doors,” commanded the queen.

  Eva watched Redimus slink up the stairs and back out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him.

  Ojo gazed down at Eva. It seemed as if she were examining Eva like a Beeboo doll. The queen then recited,

  “A nymph, born of the earth, forged by machine,

  Will herald your end.

  The Change of all Changes.

  The death. The rebirth.

  Darkness shall shroud the sun, the land, and its people.

  No living being—neither here nor there—

  Shall find light to dispel the shadow

  Whose caster is at your doorstep.

  A beacon will arrive from the ends of the earth,

  To light the way through hate, through fear, through war.

  The feast shall come to an end,

  But in the end, all one is left with is the truth.”

  Ojo finished, clos
ed her eyes, and let out a heavy sigh.

  “Arius,” Eva said. “Those are the words of Arius.”

  “They were told to me many years ago when I was but a child.” Ojo pointed to a painting on the wall.

  Eva recognized it to be a portrait of the queen, much younger but still decorated in ornate attire. Eva felt sadness from the child in the painting. It was apparent in the young queen’s eyes. This sadness had grown to overtake the older Ojo that now stood before Eva.

  “Arius told me this only once. I have spent much of my life recording bits of it as it returned to me in dream and memory,” said Ojo.

  “Like a long-lost song,” said Eva.

  “Unlike with a song, I have come to dread these words. For many years I pondered the hidden meanings of her prediction. Zin told me I was foolish for doing so, but I felt that somehow Arius’s words were meant to harm me.”

  “No. They were meant to help you and to guide me,” said Eva. “I mean, at least that’s what I think.”

  “When you arrived in my museum, captured by Besteel, I wondered who you were and what role you would play—if any. Zin informed me you were of the species responsible for all of the ancient machinery he’d excavated from the ruins.”

  “ ‘A nymph, forged by machines.’ I remember. Arius used that same phrase in my prediction.”

  “Yet another reason why you, and your kind, are likely what will ‘herald’ my end. Do you not agree?” Queen Ojo crossed her arms.

  “Herald? Me? I’m not that. I am not responsible for what Cadmus did here,” Eva said. “I tried to stop him at Lacus. When I first met you, I was still looking for my family. You ordered that creepy taxidermist to freeze me alive. Remember?”

  “If Arius had told you that I was to bring about your demise, would you not have done the same to me?” Ojo asked in a haughty tone.

  Eva thought about Besteel and the sand-snipers she had called . . . and Caruncle and the knifejacks . . . even the horned beast in the forest. Had she not done the exact same thing as Ojo? She did not want to dwell on these thoughts. She just needed to convince the queen that they were on the same side. “Loroc predicted your demise,” said Eva.

  “So Zin informs me. Zin further explained his theory that it is not his brother who is my ‘beacon’ of light, but it is in fact you, Eva Nine.” Queen Ojo moved closer. She was at least three times Eva’s height. “What do you have to say about that? How is it that you can cast a spell on Zin to alter his thinking?”

  “Just like your treowes, I told him what I know to be the truth.”

  “I see. Well, while you and Zin were talking, my city and subjects were under attack, as were the peaceful residents of Lacus. Since I had been under the impression that we were the only civilized inhabitants on this planet, we had never seen a need for defense against such attacks—and so we could not defend ourselves against your aggression.”

  “But—” Eva started.

  “Loroc arrived just in time to help turn the tide in our favor. He explained that he had taken on, or absorbed, his sister Darius’s pain. In doing so he also gained her ability to see into the past. It was in this way that he sought out Cadmus’s weakness so that he could exploit it.” Ojo put all four hands on her hips. “And he has delivered what he promised: swift victory over the humans.”

  “Do you know how he accomplished that?” asked Eva.

  “He became familiar with their machines of destruction and seized control of them for our gain,” Ojo said.

  “No. He tricked Cadmus into believing that if the humans invaded Solas, Cadmus would win.”

  Ojo made that noise again. It was a chuckle. “Is this the tale that you told Zin?”

  “No. New Attica wasn’t destroyed then! Cadmus was still alive,” Eva said. “I went there and tried to talk sense into him. It was then that Loroc betrayed Cadmus and invaded the human city.”

  “Why would any Arsian do such a thing?”

  “I think there is something wrong with Loroc. Don’t you see? He didn’t just ‘absorb’ Darius’s powers. He ate her. Just like he did to Arius and just like he’ll do to Zin if we don’t help.” Eva’s frustration gave way to pleading. “You have to stop him now before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for whom? You and your kind?” Ojo mused. “You had your chance. Your time. Now it is our time. Did you not see how many of my subjects were lost to this invasion? I could not allow this conflict to continue.”

  “If that’s the case, why did you give me the beamguide with the location of all the human Sanctuaries?” asked Eva.

  “Zin felt that you could rally your kind and we could see to some sort of truce between your people and my subjects.”

  “They won’t be your subjects anymore.” Eva pulled out Cadmus’s Omnipod. “Everyone will be under Loroc’s control. You and I will be dead.”

  “I have had enough! I don’t know why I allowed Zin’s counsel in the first place. You have infected his judgment with words. You may believe these words to be true, but my judgment is final!” Ojo’s voice rose in anger.

  “Omnipod, please locate any recorded interactions with Cadmus and his Prime Adviser. The keyword I am looking for is ‘victory,’ ” Eva said into the device.

  “Retrieving all such recordings,” said the Omnipod. “There are several hundred recorded conversations.”

  “Play back the first one please, in three-hundred-sixty-degree mode,” said Eva. She glanced up at Ojo. The queen was bent over watching closely. Eva had her attention.

  A fully rendered hologram of Cadmus appeared. Ojo reached out to touch him, but her hand passed right through the projection.

  “What is this? More trickery?” she asked.

  “Not trickery—technology,” Eva replied. She looked down at the date on the Omnipod. “It is a recording from a long time ago.”

  Cadmus was in the Chamber of Historic Thought sitting in an antique armchair and stroking his long beard. A holographic Loroc floated over to him.

  “It appears so real,” said Ojo. “I can see the fibers of Loroc’s cape.”

  “Does he look different?” Eva paused the recording.

  “Yes.” Ojo’s head turned as she examined him. “His appearance is different here from when he left, and yet different still from when he returned. His eyes, they number four instead of two.”

  “That means he’d already found his sister, Darius, when this was recorded.” Eva’s tone was grim. She continued the recording.

  “Well, what did you think of that?” the holographic Cadmus asked.

  “It is impressive how you are able to confer with your long-deceased leaders of the past, both in art and invention,” Loroc replied. “And yet I see that there is much disagreement and strife among your own.”

  Cadmus murmured in agreement. “Sadly, our history is one rife with aggression and anguish. That is not the case with my people currently living here in this city. They are peaceful.”

  “And yet confined,” Loroc observed.

  “Yes,” replied Cadmus. “Our plan was to resurface to a planet that had healed itself. Obviously that is not the case and our resources here are greatly depleted.”

  Loroc was quiet for a bit as he floated around the room.

  “Your kind . . . they were here but not extinct?” Ojo asked.

  “We were dormant in laboratories underground,” said Eva. “There is no way Zin would have known when he saw the reports from your father.”

  Ojo returned her attention to the hologram. Loroc was explaining the Vitae Virus generator to Cadmus and comparing the technology used to Cadmus’s own. “ . . . if you were to divert all your resources to the manufacturing of machines for invasion, I could advise you on ways to take the primary city. The one I told you of that sits on a large body of vitally rich water, near the great forest.”

  “What do you mean by ‘take’?” Cadmus stopped stroking his beard.

  Loroc turned to face Cadmus. “Let me help, and I will show you. I know the wa
y they operate. I know their strengths and weaknesses.”

  “Oh no,” Queen Ojo gasped.

  “I just want to understand them,” Cadmus replied. “Perhaps they can teach us?”

  “They will not.” Loroc’s tone was chilling. “The return of your kind is but a nuisance that will be dealt with accordingly. Your species was not part of their plan here.”

  “Is there no other way?” There was alarm in Cadmus’s voice.

  “There is not.” Loroc’s grin grew bigger. “Create a fleet of machines for war, and we shall conquer the young queen before she learns of your existence. Strike before she can act, and her city shall become yours.”

  Cadmus stood and pondered this proposition. “I have worked so hard to end all violence within our population. There is no need for it. However, the unforeseeable and extraordinary circumstances in which we find ourselves seem to leave me little choice. Can you promise a swift takeover with minimal casualties?”

  “Of course,” Loroc hissed. “Put me in charge, and you will have your victory, Cadmus Pryde.”

  CHAPTER 29: DISINTEGRATION

  Queen Ojo sat down on a stool opposite Eva. Remaining quiet, the queen gazed out a high arched window to the vista outside. The ruins that made up her once great city now smoldered in the hazy light. “I have memories of my home world from when I was very young,” she said, her eyes still transfixed on the view beyond.

  Eva sat cross-legged on her stool and listened.

  “As far back as I can remember, there were falling stars in our sky. Day or twi-night, you would see the fiery streaks crisscross over the horizon. I used to think they were so beautiful. My father told me that the falling stars were actually pieces of our smaller sun, Safir, which was slowly disintegrating. It was breaking apart and entering our atmosphere. Eventually the sun’s death would consume our entire planet in fire. Zin concurred that this event was inevitable but believed that it would not happen in Father’s lifetime, or mine . . . but it did. It happened faster than anyone could have predicted, even Arius.” The queen’s voice was heavy with recollection.

  “So my father ordered the construction of a great starship, the largest ever conceived. His plan was to take as many people as he could and leave our dying planet to find a new home, far from danger. Many said his plan would not work and they stayed behind. It is believed that they have all perished, as has my old home.” Ojo looked down at the pendants hanging from her neck. “I scooped this soil up with my bare hands the day before we left,” she said, pointing to the rust-colored dirt in the glass vial.