Glass and Gardens

by Sarena Ulibarri

  But her hand slipped off the tether.

  With a scream, Arc plummeted into the abyss.

  ***

  Pella caught a glimpse of Arc’s fall; a smudge across the flat screen depicting the live feed under the hopper’s belly. Immediately she yanked a lever, and the vehicle began to rapidly descend.

  “Damnit, damnit, damnit,” Pella growled, squinting at the falling, shrieking child below her and trying to calculate properly. They only had a few seconds. Pella made a decision and yanked a lever in conjunction with another one.

  In response, the right front leg of the hopper swung out in space and then halted with a shuddering creak inches alongside the child. Arc seized the metal limb. Pella hoped that the child was hanging on tightly. Locking the limb in place, she abruptly shifted the hopper’s trajectory. The prop whirred fiercely. Arc shivered, struggling with a sudden bout of nausea as the hopper bounded up. She buried her forehead against the shiny metal limb she clung to.

  “Are you okay down there? Just nod once if you are. Twice if not. I can see you.” This voice crackled from a speaker hidden on the hopper’s body.

  Arc nodded once.

  “Great! I’m going to go as slow as I can, but I’ve got to make it to the Complex in the next eight minutes, so I’ll drop you there.” There was a pause, then the speaker crackled to life again. “Well, not ‘drop you.’ Drop you off, I mean. You’ll be fine, is what I’m saying. Oh, never mind. Just hold on!”

  Arc peered through her eyelashes nervously, watching the hopper navigate wildly through the windy corridor of bridges and cables, then squeezed her eyes shut again.

  ***

  The Complex was a cleared, flat spread of concrete surrounded by shops set up in the remains of old apartment buildings. The space was used as a market on most days, but also frequently served for festivals and dances and performances.

  Pella had parked the hopper on the far northeast corner of the concrete field. She patted the side of the hopper affectionately. “Here you are, folks! Just give her a few minutes to charge up and you can walk right in. All download devices need to go through the digiwash first. Traditional books and other media are stored on the first and second floors.”

  Arc hovered behind Pella’s leg. She’d seen Lyka’s stall at the western edge of the Complex while the hopper had landed, and wondered if Lyka had seen her. A crowd had quickly gathered around the hopper, and while some of the people there seemed interested in the spectacle of the child being gingerly lowered to the ground by a robotic limb, the majority of the crowd were definitely interested in something else.

  “What is this?” Arc asked when Pella had a moment.

  “What do you mean?” Pella replied, smiling good-naturedly at the child. She was relieved that Arc appeared unhurt.

  Arc pointed at the vehicle. “This machine, for starters.”

  “Oh, that’s a hopper. The long legs are good for crossing the desert.”

  Arc frowned, puzzled in spite of herself. “Why is that?”

  “You ever been to the desert?”

  “No,” Arc sighed, “I’m not allowed outside of Cable Town.”

  “That’s probably because it’s all rocks and torn-up earth—it’s completely unstable. The legs help pick your way along the route.” Pella was greeted by a friendly individual in long mottled violet robes, and detoured into a short conversation. Arc rubbed the sides of her arms nervously. She wasn’t supposed to be at the Complex today, but maybe her dad would understand that there’d been special circumstances. Arc imagined her dad yelling at her about leaning too far out of the cable car and grimaced. She ducked further behind Pella.

  Finally the conversation ended, and Arc tugged at Pella’s elbow. “But I mean what is this? Why is everyone grouped up?”

  Pella grinned, her eyes merry. “You don’t know, huh?” She looked down at a bulky gray flatpad that she plucked from a bag at her hip. “That’s right—there hasn’t been one of our hoppers by in twelve years, now.” Pella leaned forward a little, lowering her voice in mock conspiratory. “So think—is there anything you want to see or hear or learn about? Anything at all? It could be an animal, or a place, or a person, or how to make something.”

  “Trees,” Arc blurted out. “And how to make a kite,” she added after a moment.

  Pella nodded, tapping the skin of the hopper. “All that is inside. And more! Stories, too. And songs, and art.”

  “How much?” Arc frowned skeptically.

  Pella laughed. “For nothing!”

  Pella’s laughter was picked up by some bystanders who had overheard the conversation.

  “It’s a library, kid!” someone called out from the crowd.

  Arc shifted on her feet awkwardly. She still didn’t know what that meant, and she hated being the subject of laughter.

  Pella shook her head. “Don’t pay any attention to them. Yes, it’s a library, and I’m a librarian, but you’ll figure out what that is in time.” She scrabbled in one of the pouches on her belt, and pulled out a few coins. “I can pay for a drink with this here, right?”

  Arc blinked, looking at the coins. “Yeah. At least three drinks, if you want tea.”

  “They have tea here now? I hope it’s cold. Why don’t you buy us two, and come back with change?”

  Arc smiled, slipping the coins into the deep front pocket on her trousers. “Okay!”

  ***

  Arc crouched beside the stall, peeking over the top of the low fabric wall. She could see Lyka and her dad working, brewing and chilling and serving tea for the people lining up. It was good to see them so busy, and Arc felt a pang of pride at her sister’s hard work being so well received. Arc hung back, waiting until her dad’s back was turned, and Lyka was alone.

  Arc whistled—one note, low—and Lyka looked up. When she saw her little sister crouching by the booth, she groaned beneath her breath. Darting a glance over her shoulder to confirm that their dad was still busy, Lyka approached Arc.

  “You’re not supposed to be here. Dad’s going to be upset.”

  Arc handed over Pella’s coins. “Two iced teas, please.”

  Lyka rolled her eyes. “Where did you get this money from? You need to go straight back home.”

  “It’s an order from the librarian. She saved my life when I almost died today.”

  Lyka sighed. “Fine, don’t pay any attention to me. But you’re going to need to go home after you drink these.”

  “I’ll miss the Kite Festival if I go home.”

  Lyka marched away from Arc, poured two iced teas from the noisy refrigerated taps running off the solar cell roof of the festival stall, and returned with two pressed palm leaf cups and change.

  “Stay out of dad’s sight, and don’t get into any more trouble, Arcling.”

  Arc smiled up at her big sister. “You’re awesome, Lyka. The stall looks great.”

  The corners of Lyka’s mouth twitched up. “Glad you think so. Now scram!”

  Obediently, Arc darted off into the crowd.

  ***

  By the time Arc returned with the drinks, the doors to the hopper had opened, letting in streams of people, some holding books that they’d been hoping to return for over a decade. Arc saw Pella leaning against the front of the hopper’s entrance, smiling and chatting with the patrons. When Pella caught a glimpse of Arc in the crowd, she smiled and gave a slight nod. The child darted forward, offering one of the iced teas to Pella, who took a long swig.

  “Ah, that’s good! I haven’t had tea in forever. I mean, hot mint brewed in a cup, sure, but not real tea like this.”

  Arc listened to the babble, smiling proudly. “My sister made that. With my dad. We all helped, but it was mostly her. I thought there wouldn’t be anyone here today because the wind was so weak, but there’s a good crowd!”

  Pella arched an eyebrow. “‘Because the wind is so weak?’”

  Arc nodded. “It’s the Kite Festival today. They�
��re going to launch the kites tonight.”

  Pella grinned. “Oh, there’ll be enough wind for that. I had a few bad gusts nipping my heels across the desert earlier. You’ll see.”

  Arc shrugged. “I guess people showed up anyway. For the library.”

  The woman removed a grimy rag from a pouch on her belt and swabbed at the grease along the back of her neck, guzzling more tea. The cold liquid eased the raw patch in her throat. When she finished, she gestured at the hopper.

  “Why don’t you go in and take a look? Just grab one of the flatpads by the door—it’ll walk you through the place.”

  Arc finished her tea, depositing her empty cup on a designated compost heap nearby, and headed toward the hopper. It had been a strange day, and yet she hoped it would go on and on; Arc hadn’t been this happy in years.

  ***

  The inside was packed with people slowly milling about, most of them gazing down at their flatpads. After Arc answered her own device’s prompts for language and other settings, she picked the option to borrow the flatpad for the week, then return it at the end. If she didn’t return it, apparently the librarian would just track down all the equipment anyway. Patrons with their own recording devices could download as much media as they could carry. And of course, there were always the physical books to check out.

  Arc had read exactly five books, total; her favorite one had been a book of fairy tales. Interesting things were always happening in stories like that—heroes sprang up in the unlikeliest of places.

  “How may we help you?” a recorded voice from the flatpad asked gently.

  “I…need a book on trees. And to know how to build a box kite.”

  “Digital or physical media preferred?”

  Arc frowned. “I guess digital is all right.” She thought for a moment. “And maybe a physical book, too—one with fairy tales in it.”

  The device presented a list of book titles, with descriptions Arc could interact with. After fussing for a bit, she selected a few books, then hit the download button. She glanced up—in her casual meandering, she had ended up bottlenecked by an entrance. Turning sideways, Arc squeezed past two adults covered in holographic tattoos, muttering apologies along the way.

  A faint chime rang out from Arc’s flatpad. “Main library,” the device announced.

  Arc looked up and saw a room filled with books; the metal walls were fully converted to shelves that spanned from the ceiling to the floor, and every shelf was neatly packed with the spines of books. Patrons carefully removed these books from behind taut elastic cords, flipping pages and pausing as they read.

  “What’s it like to be a librarian?” Arc asked suddenly.

  Recorded clips of Pella’s adventures began to play on Arc’s flatpad. Amazed, Arc watched as Pella piloted the hopper through fantastic storms, and narrowly avoided wild animals that charged at the vehicle with unchecked fury. She watched Pella singing songs to herself as she navigated along empty stretches of snowbound tundra. She watched Pella hang suspended from a curious sling as she repaired the underside of a frozen hopper limb. She watched Pella sort the shelves, and run maintenance checks, and fix the damaged books and flatpads. She watched Pella meet new and exciting people in dozens of places that Arc did not know.

  It was dizzying. Arc grinned, imagining a life of endless adventure, delivering the pure magic of ideas to strangers who would soon become friends.

  ***

  Arc exited the hopper in a daze, the dazzle of the setting sun speckling her vision with fiery dots. Her imagination swirled with idylls of towns and cities and trees and libraries. She’d never suspected the sheer multitudes of thoughts there were to think!

  As the dots dispersed, Arc could make out a silver-haired woman in expensive silk handing Pella a few rolls of coins, as well as some boxes of mushroom bread and water.

  Pella said, “Thanks for paying the maintenance fee, it’s always a pleasure setting up in Cable Town—is this mushroom bread? You didn’t have to do that!”

  “It’s a pleasure having you here. We’d love to have you stay longer if you could.”

  Pella laughed awkwardly, scrubbing her scalp with her fingernails. “Ah, well—you know how the schedule is! But I’m on time and here for the week, Mayor Trenton.”

  The mayor smiled. “Feel free to come over for dinner while you’re in town. I’m in the red and blue car at the top of Zephyr Way.”

  Pella tipped her chin down. “Thank you! I just may at that.”

  A hand landed on Arc’s shoulder, eliciting a yelp. She looked up, and saw a man she didn’t know at the other end of it. He grinned at her in a way that she didn’t like.

  “Hey, kid—where’s your sister? She owes me some money.”

  “Hey! Take your hands off that kid!” Pella began to stomp over to the strange man, who kept Arc’s shoulder pinched like a vise.

  “Stay out of this—it’s not your business,” replied the man.

  “You’re right, it’s mine.” This new voice belonged to a deep, gravelly voice struggling to be patient. Arc shrank slightly from the voice, even though she knew it was likely her salvation. “Let my kid go.” Arc smiled at the bearded man, but her smile quickly wilted beneath his stern stare. Regardless, the fingers gripping her shoulder loosened, and she fled to stand by her dad’s side.

  “Your daughter still has an outstanding debt with us, and the collection deadline is due tonight.”

  “Then why are you harassing this one? She doesn’t have any debt with you.”

  The strange man grinned again. “Not yet.” He gave a short bow to the group standing there.

  As he straightened up he addressed himself to Arc’s dad. “I’ll be coming by later, Bedlam Green.”

  ***

  Her dad frowned deeply, crossing his arms in front of him. “Why are you here? I thought I told you to stay put!”

  “I’m going to run away and become a librarian!” Arc cried, grabbing Pella’s elbow.

  Pella’s face dropped in shock. “Ah, what’s going on now?”

  “Arc…” Bedlam sighed. “Enough fooling around.”

  “I mean it!” Arc shouted, glowering up at her dad. “You never listen when something’s important to me, and this is important!”

  The awkward silence was only partially alleviated by the noise of the crowd.

  Pella cleared her throat. “Now, being a librarian is a tricky thing. It requires years of studying. And you have to be good at fixing things, and solving problems, and being alone sometimes.”

  Arc’s eyes started to smart. She rubbed at them with the back of her hand. “I can learn! I can be your apprentice! I can go with you when you leave at the end of the week, and you can train me how to do everything.”

  “Arc,” Bedlam began, his eyes darkening.

  “Actually, would you mind talking with me for a moment, er, is it Belgan Greeg?”

  Pella had interposed herself between father and child.

  “Bedlam Green,” he corrected her.

  “It’ll just take a moment,” the librarian assured him.

  He peered into the face of the woman for a long moment, then nodded. Arc watched as her dad stood listening to Pella for a while, then spoke his piece. Arc couldn’t quite make out what anyone was saying. The silver-haired mayor had joined the conversation now, and Arc wondered if the adults would ever let her take part.

  ***

  They all sat on the roof of the hopper, holding cups of cold tea as the hot summer winds began to pick up. Even Lyka had joined them after closing up the tea stall. She paid off the bankers with a sackful of coins and followed that up with a list of stern threats if she ever caught any of them near her family members again. Bedlam sat next to Pella, embroiling her with endless questions. Lyka turned to Arc and ruffled her hair with a goofy smile.

  “So I’m a big success, and my little sister is going to be a librarian! We’re an impressive bunch.”

  “Not a
real librarian, a ‘library volunteer’,” Arc reminded her, “it’s not like I’m going to leave Cable Town.”

  “For now,” Lyka added. “But you’ll get to run Cable Town’s first library in the meantime! That’s a big, important job!”

  Arc bit her bottom lip. “It’s only going to have a few books to start with.”

  Lyka laughed. “I’m sure that problem won’t bother you for long.”

  Arc thought about that.

  Suddenly, the music of the festival performers died away. Kites covered in every hue of palm paper were carefully removed from parcels and baskets. Tiny candles were placed at the hearts of these kites and lit, and in first a trickle of action, then a steady current, the kites were released.

  No one in Cable Town remembered where the Kite Festival came from, or who had started it. Arc wondered if the librarians might know. She thought about libraries, and collecting knowledge, and how to fill a bookshelf with only a handful of books. She had ideas she wanted to run by Pella.

  Arc listened to the free music as the wind rippled through the cable cars, and sent the glittering kites scattering through the night like stars.

  ***

  M. Lopes da Silva is an author and fine artist living in Los Angeles. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Electric Literature, Blumhouse, The California Literary Review, and Queen Mob’s Teahouse, and anthologies by Mad Scientist Journal, Gehenna & Hinnom Press, and Fantasia Divinity Publishing. She recently illustrated the Centipede Press collector’s edition of Jonathan Carroll’s The Land of Laughs. Find more at mlopesdasilva.wordpress.com

  Women of White Water

  by Helen Kenwright

  Berta poured tea into her cup, stirred in a little honey, and took a sip. The knot in the small of her back relaxed a little. She leaned back and gazed up at the lattice of bamboo that arched over the patio of the café. She idly followed the movement of the thermo-conductive petals the bamboo bore, as they tilted this way and that to catch the sun, twinkling iridescent blue. Stems of green cable carried the energy they captured down the arch and into the earth. From there they burrowed underground to the generators that powered the fountain, the booths, and the residential treatment village that made up the Wellness Centre. The flowers basked, the sun warmed the courtyard, and Berta enjoyed a precious moment of peace, trying to mind her own business.