by James Bow
The CommController glowered. “What do you want?”
I stepped to the door and opened it. “I want to show you something. Actually, I’d like everybody to see it, but you get to see it first. Come with me to the film transfer room, please. Don’t make a fuss.”
Though Zachariah had been knocked down, he pushed himself up and took the CommController’s arm as they stepped into the room with me. I left Eliza to guard the two, while I turned to the salvaged video screens. I fiddled around their edges until I found a wire that fit into a receptacle in the black box. “There,” I said. “I knew the connection was compatible.”
The CommController peered over my shoulder. “Where did you get that? That’s original technology!”
I angled the black box so the light gleamed off the seal of the Captain of the Icarus. “Where do you think?”
His face was blank a moment, and then — I imagined this was what it looked like when stars came out.
I nodded. “That’s right.” I set the black box on the table and flipped a switch. The screen flickered to life, showing heavy static. “Gather around, everybody.” And for the second time in nearly sixty-three years, the ship’s log of the Icarus began to play.
The CommController and Zachariah stood transfixed as the old Captain began to speak. They stared in horror as they witnessed the fall of the mother ship. They went still and silent as they heard Navigator Salk’s confession, and saw the attack of the ticktock monsters.
When the Elder’s people attacked, I glanced at Eliza. I saw her grimace. Then she sensed my eyes on her and looked at me. Her face became like stone and she turned away.
When the video was done, the CommController and Zachariah kept staring at the screen. Zachariah had his hand over his mouth.
I cleared my throat. “That’s what I want to show the people of Daedalon,” I said. “I want to do it during the Nocturne ceremony. Will you help me?”
Zachariah’s brow furrowed. “How are you going to get that out to the people? You’d need a screen the size of …” The light dawned. “Oh!”
“I ask again: Will you help me?”
“We’ve got the sunset film here,” said Zachariah. “The pick-up request hasn’t been sent yet, but it’s due soon. You’d have an hour to make the transfer to film.”
I rubbed my chin. “An hour.” The video was fifteen minutes long. We had the technology to develop film quickly, but we were cutting things fine.
“I don’t understand,” said Zachariah. “Why do you need us?”
“I know how to work the video equipment,” I said, “but working it and the projector? Getting the film developed? I could use a hand.”
I looked at them. The CommController’s eyes had lost the hostility they’d held only minutes ago. Now he and Zachariah just looked bewildered.
“It’s up to you what you do now,” I said. “I’m not a violent man. I wasn’t the one who killed Iapyx. I’m not going to hurt you or tie you up. Now that I’ve shown you the truth, it’s up to you. You can help us, or you can go back to your office and sit down. What do you choose?” I held out my hand.
The CommController turned to me, and in his eyes, I saw his bewilderment was tinged with horror.
“The truth?” he echoed. His voice was barely a whisper, but he struggled to get the words out. “After all this time. Sixty-three years, we lived the way we lived because of the horror of what we left behind, and you’re telling me that we did it again? Genocide? Destruction? That’s what you want me to tell everyone?”
Eliza, Zachariah and I stood in the video transfer room, silent. The CommController looked down, trembling. He swallowed hard. Then he looked up at me, his eyes haunted. “Leave me out of this. Please, just … leave me alone.”
He turned away, walking toward the door, past Eliza. She tensed as he approached, but I raised a hand. I followed as he shuffled toward his office. He gave me one final look before he stepped inside and shut the door.
I clenched my teeth. This was what I was afraid of. My own words to Rachel and Gabriel echoed back at me, when they first told me th eir suspicions about the Tals. We were here because we’d fled here. We’d suffered and scrabbled these past six decades, not just because we had no choice, but because as bad as it got, it hadn’t been as bad as what had driven us from Old Mother Earth. We took pride in our suffering, because we thought we were better than what we’d left behind.
I was going to shatter that illusion. Confronted with that truth, the CommController had curled up into a ball.
If this was how people were going to react, maybe I’d have to get violent after all.
Zachariah tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, and saw a different look in his eyes. Determination.
“I know how to operate the projector,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
NOCTURNE DAEDALON
ELIZA:
We left the place of tubes after a long, frustrating time while Simon and the other boy fussed with the moving picture machine. Finally, the boy took the film, and Simon and I walked the closed-in paths of Daedalon, joining a river of people.
We dodged people who laughed and chattered as they flowed forward. The music and drumbeats boomed through the pipes above us. I tried not to flinch when people brushed against me. I could see Simon smiling. Though he was nervous, he was still happy to be here, among all his people. Even if this wasn’t Simon’s city, this was still home for him.
Simon looked back, saw me squeezing against a wall to push past a group of people who had stopped to talk to each other. He reached out his hand — as I had made myself do when I guided Simon through the forest.
“We’re almost there!” he said.
“Where?” My chest felt tight.
He led me up some steps. The crowds parted as they levelled off. Suddenly, I stood at the edge of a cavernous space.
For several breaths, I could hardly move: to see a room as big as a real place, but still a room. There were trees and hills, but there was no fog. The walls were far away. They had curved struts, like the ribcage of an animal, holding up a solid sky. It was all too open and too closed at the same time.
We climbed to the crest of a hill that was fringed with trees, stepping between the trunks, and looked down at a sea of people.
How could so many people fit into one place? How could they enjoy it so?
But they were enjoying it. In a large flat area, people paired up, grabbing hands and twirling. There were tables set up, with more food than I’d seen in my lifetime. The music hammered in my ears.
“What is this place?” I gasped.
He looked around him, strangely wistful. “The Great Hall of Daedalon.”
“How you put so much space inside?”
He thought about this. “We needed to take it with us,” he said. “From Old Mother Earth. I think it kept us sane.”
I leaned on the tree. I did not like how it pulsed beneath my hand with the invaders’ drumbeats. This was not sane. I nodded at the shifting mass of people below. “What they doing?”
Simon looked. “They’re dancing.”
“What is dancing?”
He opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. His forehead wrinkled. “It’s, uh … It’s something people do … when they want to show that they’re happy or … that they like each other. To celebrate. Couples join hands on the dance floor, and move in time to the music. It’s … fun.”
“What is couple?” I asked.
“Um …” His cheeks were turning red. He cleared his throat. “Two people. Mostly friends. Good friends. Really good friends.”
I began to understand. « Is this a mating ritual? »
He coughed again. “Sort of. Yeah.” He peered out at the crowd and pointed. “There’s the stage. Look, at the end of the amphitheatre.”
I looked. In a dip in the ground there was a raised area where a dozen people sat apart, arms folded or hands on their laps. Behind them, on a giant white screen,
flashed symbols I’d seen before. The arrowhead that signified Simon’s dead city. The notched wheel and big stick of this city, and an unfamiliar symbol: an eight-sided web.
“What is that?” I asked.
“The symbols of Iapyx and Daedalon. The spider-web belongs to Octavia,” Simon replied. “Their dignitaries are on the stage. There’s Mayor Tuan of Daedalon.” His jaw tightened. “There’s Mayor Matthew Tal.” He shuddered. “And there beside him is Nathaniel—”
Suddenly, his eyes went wide, and he pushed me hard against the tree as he tried to duck behind it.
« What? » I grunted.
« Sorry, » he whispered, pushing away. “I thought Nathaniel saw us.”
I glared. He thought he had been spotted, and made a mistake that got young hunters killed. Do not dive away and attract attention.
I nodded at a tree ten steps away. The view of the stage was blocked by a row of bushes from here to there. Simon nodded, and we snuck to the new vantage point. We looked out carefully.
I focused on the grey figure Simon had pointed to as Nathaniel. He was no longer looking at where we were, but he was talking to someone leaning over his shoulder, another man in grey. The man in grey nodded and slipped away. Nathaniel turned back and stared hard at the place where we’d been.
“What’s he doing?” Simon muttered.
Simon was getting distracted. I nudged him. « Where do we have to be? »
He pointed at the stage. “There. I have to tell everyone what I know as soon as the Icarus’s black box plays. We don’t have much time …”
I tensed. Someone was approaching. Simon felt my tension, and we turned to look. The guard known as Gaal hurried to our cover of shadow and trees.
“Hey,” he said. “We have a problem.” He nodded at the entrance we’d come through. On either side were people wearing the same grey clothes we were wearing. They were on guard, and had not been there when we had entered.
“Those aren’t Daedalon guards,” said Gaal. “They’re Iapyx.”
Simon’s eyes widened. “Nathaniel?”
“Something must have spooked him,” said Gaal. “More guards are taking up positions at other exits. They’re not looking for Grounders; we passed without problem.”
“They look for you,” I said to Simon. Nathaniel must have seen us. He really did have the eyes of a predator.
Simon grimaced. He took a deep breath. “Is everybody ready?”
Gaal nodded. “A few guards came to investigate why the prison was in lockdown. We overpowered them and they’re in cells. Nobody knows what’s happening, yet. The Iapyx CommController sent me and a few others up to help you. He’s over there.”
He tipped his head. Across the field, the invader known as Gabriel looked over at us. He wore a grey uniform that was too long for him and too tight around his waist, but nobody around him seemed to notice. Simon would probably say it was because it was Nocturne.
“So, when do we go?” I asked.
“There’ll be speeches in a few minutes,” Gaal replied. “Then the oath, then the sunset film.”
Simon sucked his teeth. “I’m not in position, and I can’t go out through the exits or Nathaniel’s guards will stop me.”
I tapped Simon’s wrist. “Walk down to dancers. Gaal, stand between Simon and stage.”
Gaal led the way. We came down the hill toward the amphitheatre and the great field of dancers. Simon kept calm, but he walked tense, until the stage slipped behind the rows and rows of dancers. Then he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Gaal,” he said. “Take some people and go to the projection room. I’ve got something special queued up in place of the sunset film. Your job is to make sure they keep playing it when they realize something is wrong. Can you do that?”
Gaal nodded and slipped away, and again we were alone among the revelling crowds.
« What now? » I asked.
“We have to get to the stage,” he replied. He looked around at the exits, but there were grey uniforms at every one we could see.
The only way to the stage was through this shifting, jostling crowd of dancers. And we had to do it quickly, and stealthily. If we shoved our way through, we would attract attention. So, how did we get through?
I looked at Simon, and saw him come to the same idea as me. His cheeks grew red again. “Eliza—”
He had just said that dancing was a mating ritual. But … « You need to get to the stage, » I said softly. “Best way is through dancers.” « Camouflage. » But I felt my own cheeks betray me, and heat up.
He looked at the ground, and then looked back at me, a small smile on his lips. « Ek-Taak-Tock-Taak? » Then, “Would you dance with me?”
I fought down the strange, swirly feeling in my stomach and took his hand. We stepped in.
I had never danced before. I had no idea how to follow the steps, and I doubted Simon could, with his old injuries. But we didn’t need to know the steps. I just needed to shift my body in time with the drumbeats. And anticipate where Simon’s feet would land, and keep my feet out of those spots.
But as I avoided a young woman being turned by her partner, I realized that I had moved like this before. When you fight a slink up close, you have to react as you stalk.
Simon and I pulled back and pulled forward, stepping into gaps as they came open, moving closer to the stage. Sometimes we were an arm’s length apart. Sometimes his breath brushed my cheek.
I was stalking Simon! To what end? The possibilities were exciting, and I found I was enjoying this. I smiled to see Simon smiling back. It was good to dance with him. It was good to dance, with him. I laughed as he swung me around, and as I saw the faces of the couples swing past me. In that instant, I felt as though I was home.
Home …
I staggered to a stop. Simon bumped into me, and stared. I looked around, at the metal sky, the crowds of people. Horror rose in my chest.
* * *
SIMON:
We stumbled at first as we entered the dance, Eliza unfamiliar with the moves, me unfamiliar with Eliza, but after a moment’s effort, we figured it out. We managed not to look too conspicuous as I moved us through the crowd, toward the stage.
Though I focused on reaching the stage, I could not help but think about the dance. Did I mention that you were a good dancer, Rachel had said. I hadn’t known. But I liked dancing with Rachel. And I liked dancing with Eliza. Her breath, smelling of the fruit of the forest, reminded me of the smell of candy on Rachel’s.
As we danced, Eliza’s look of bewilderment faded. She gasped as I pulled her through a turn, then laughed as I pulled her back to me. It was good to see her happy.
Slowly we were getting closer to the stage and its screen.
Then Eliza’s smile vanished. She pulled away. She looked at me, at the crowd around me, with wide, horrified eyes.
“Eliza?”
It happened so fast. I’d barely registered the change in Eliza’s expression before she shoved me away and looked at all the people — and at me — in horror.
“Eliza?” I reached for her. She recoiled, then turned and ran.
* * *
ELIZA:
Home, I thought, and my mind flashed to the Elder, her life draining out of her. My mother, staring right through me. The invaders are not my people!
I remembered my brothers. Living in a village that was too hot but was still where my family lived. Only, not anymore. I saw the ragged lines of the metal huts and I saw the stark lines of this gigantic room, and revulsion swept through me. Dancing with Simon, I had thought I was home. For an instant, I had forgotten what these invaders did to my people. The realization made me hate my own skin.
“Eliza?” Simon reached for me. I pulled away. I could not be here anymore. I could not stand being surrounded by so many monsters.
I shoved my way through the crowds, running for the nearest doorway out of this false forest, looking for somewhere to breathe.
* * *
SIMON:
“Eliza!” I pushed forward. People protested. Others started to look. Eliza disappeared among the crowd, but I followed, wanting to know what had happened, and desperate not to be alone. On the stage, Mayor Tuan and Mayor Tal stood up and approached the podium.
Behind me, Gaal shouted a warning. I didn’t listen. I was almost at the edge of the crowd, and I’d seen Eliza disappear through one of the Great Hall’s entranceways. I didn’t realize what Gaal had shouted until it was too late.
I burst into the open and found myself face to face with two of Nathaniel’s guards.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ACCUSATION AND REDEMPTION
ELIZA:
I ran through the closed-in paths of the hive, not wanting to touch the walls. To be in the belly of the monster and all alone was horrible.
But there was only so far I could run. Before long, I had to slow down and think of what to do next. Maybe there was some way I could hurt this place. Simon had said his city died when Nathaniel attacked something called the anchor. Perhaps I could go there, find some way to cut the wires without sunlight.
That’s when I heard the voice.
“Ticktock!”
I looked around. What was that word? It felt like it should be a word in my language, but it was only gibberish.
“Ticktock! Ticktick!”
I saw children ahead. I ducked behind a corner and peered out.
Giggling children, hiding behind corners of their own, watched as a young girl walked around, eyes closed and arms outstretched. When she got too close to one of the other children, he or she would lunge out and shout that strange word. “Ticktock!” or “Ticktick!” The last word I knew as hello, but I do not think the children knew it as hello.
I realized what the children were playing. Anger burned hotter in my chest. Is this what my people were now? Some play-fright that children laughed over? I bared my teeth. If the children wanted monsters, I would give them one.
Keeping behind the corner, I leaned out and clicked at them. « Tik-tik-tik-tik. »