Static Mayhem

by Edward Aubry

  Hadley shook his head. "No, the heat from a nuclear blast would have fused the ground into glass. Look there," he said, pointing out the window to evidence that only he seemed to see. "The surface of the crater is lumpy. It almost looks like an impact crater, like you would see on the moon, except that the center would most likely be raised. This one isn't." He scratched his head. "It's impossible to say what caused it from up here."

  "Is that the Brooklyn Bridge?" asked Harrison. He had been surveying the landscape from a window on the other side of the cabin. Hadley leapt up and leaned over Harrison's seat. Harrison tried to move out his way in the close quarters, and failed.

  "It is!" said Hadley, his eyes wide. "Are any other bridges intact?" he called over his shoulder.

  "Not that I can see," said Anderson.

  "Can you take us closer to that one?" asked Alec.

  "Yes, I can." It took the better part of a minute for Anderson to bring the flier around and pull it to a hovering stop over the bridge.

  "Wow," said Harrison.

  "Agreed," said Hadley. He moved to the front window for a better view. Harrison stood and followed, looking over his shoulder. The Brooklyn Bridge stretched the whole way across the East River, the only apparent remaining connection from the island to any other land mass. The length of the bridge was dotted with nearly circular holes, varying in size and at random distances from each other. The Manhattan side of the bridge looked worn and weathered. The Brooklyn side was covered with vegetation, slowly growing its way toward the island. The green was jungle-like, comprising vines and curiously twisted trees. Nothing on it looked indigenous to New York. Much of it was too large to have grown in only one year.

  "What would account for that pattern of destruction?" asked Alec, pointing. "Those holes."

  "I have no idea," said Hadley quietly.

  "I'd like to get down there," said Alec. Harrison silently agreed, entranced by the exotic flora, although he knew Alec's curiosity was more about identifying a weapon.

  "Not happening," said Anderson. "There's nowhere clear enough to set down on either end." He looked at Alec, who was still scrutinizing the bridge, and added in response to his obvious but unspoken question, "That Swiss cheese will never hold this bird."

  "Set us down near the edge of the crater," said Louise. "As close to the outside of it as possible."

  "Good idea," Hadley said. "We may be able to tell more from the ejecta than from the crater itself." Anderson pulled away from the bridge, and resumed circling the island, looking for a suitably barren patch in the debris field.

  "Wait," said Alec. He was staring out the window, his sword drawn. No one spoke. "Dr. Tucker, would you have a look at this, please." Hadley moved to Alec's window and looked out. Alec held the sword perpendicular to the surface of the glass, and Hadley looked back and forth from the blade to the outside. He frowned, and looked back and forth again. Then his eyebrows rose. "Do you see it?" Alec asked him.

  "Just barely." He turned. "Madame President, I respectfully suggest that we land closer to the center of the crater. There's something there."

  She looked at Anderson. "Can you put us down in there?"

  He nodded. "Just tell me how close to the center," he said.

  "How close?" she asked Alec.

  "I'd say give us at least two hundred meters from the exact center."

  "Do it," she ordered. "Hadley, what are we landing near?"

  "Haven't a clue," the scientist said. "There's a region down there throwing off magic, and if it's in the center of that hole, then it must be what we came all the way out here looking for." He looked around. "Yes?"

  They released the transport before landing. Anderson performed the operation more smoothly this time, and they barely heard the thump of the vehicle hitting the ground. Then he set the manta down a short distance away from the transport. They filed out down the ramp, and stood by the wing, taking in the sights. At first it looked like nothing, like the rest of the vast, empty hole. Then Claudia shouted, "There! Did anyone see that?" Everyone did. The zone had shimmered, briefly, like a mirage.

  "Glimmer," said Louise. "Would you mind taking the point?"

  "Sure," she said. "Send the pixie." She was wearing a tube dress, no sleeves, with a little strap around the neck, that went down to her knees and was completely covered in gold sequins. No shoes.

  She flitted to the zone, in no particular hurry, and flew around it in a complete circle. As she passed behind it, she looked like she was flying behind pebbled glass. Then she came back around and said, "I'm going in." Before anyone could stop her, she flew straight at the disturbance and vanished.

  "Hey!" Harrison started forward, but Sgt. Smith threw his arm in front of Harrison's chest, blocking him.

  They waited for two horrible minutes. Glimmer reappeared. "It's all good," she said. "Come on in." And she vanished again. No one moved.

  "Sergeant," said Alec, walking toward where Glimmer had been hovering. Smith walked briskly to him, taking the lead. As they neared the point of her last observed appearance, Alec slowed down, and Smith disappeared. Two seconds later, he reappeared.

  "Area looks secure," he said. "There's a garden and a straw hut in there. The pixie says it's safe."

  Harrison made for the invisible curtain without waiting for further instructions. Alec made no move to stop him. As he crossed the boundary, he heard a whooshing sound, and suddenly he could see a small patch of lush land, green grass, several fruit bearing trees, many flowers, and the aforementioned hut. The air smelled like freshly baked bread. Glimmer was buzzing from flower to flower, evidently content that she was safe. He walked about a dozen paces, taking in the sights and smells, then turned around. He could still see the group looking in his direction. Alec seemed to be looking right through him. Harrison stuck out his tongue.

  "I'm right here, Cody." Harrison looked down and saw Alec's feet standing on grass, not dirt, just on the inside of the effect.

  "Ah," said Harrison. "Heh-heh. Sorry."

  The rest of the group came through, one at a time. Jeannette, who came in last, was carrying a satchel. Harrison remembered why she was there, and it soured the moment. Hoping she wouldn't be needed in her anticipated capacity, he looked nervously at the hut.

  Everyone else was already looking at the hut, and as they stood there, waiting for Louise or Alec to order them forward, someone stepped out. It was a woman, about twenty years old, with medium-length dark, wavy hair. She was wearing a black T-shirt and a long tie-dyed skirt. She saw them immediately, but made no move toward or away from them. Glimmer had returned from her frolicking, and the woman watched her hovering.

  The woman turned back to the hut. "Jake?" she called, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Come out here, please." She showed no outward sign of fear. Seconds later, a man emerged from the hut. He seemed to be about the same age and had scraggly, dark blonde hair, and a wispy beard. Unlike his companion, he seemed taken aback by the arrival of company.

  "Dr. Lee," Louise said quietly, "please introduce yourself."

  Jeannette stepped forward. The woman didn't move. "Hi. I'm Dr. Jeannette Lee," she said, extending her hand. The woman took it. "I'm a physician," she added.

  "I was going to say that," said the woman, pointing to Jeanette's bag. "My name's Apryl Mendoza. This is Jake Miller." The man was starting to thaw out.

  "Hi, April," Jeannette said with a smile. She turned to the man. "Hi, Jake."

  "It's Apryl with a Y," Jake said. There was no difference in the pronunciation. Apryl rolled her eyes.

  Jeannette nodded. "Okay. Apryl with a Y, it is," she said.

  "Where did you all come from?" Apryl asked.

  Jeannette looked at Louise, who nodded. "We're from Chicago," she said.

  "Wow," said Jake. "Do you know that girl from the radio?" Hadley and Jeannette involuntarily looked at Claudia before they realized what they were doing. Claudia put her left hand over her eyes, and raised her right hand. Jake's eyes widened. />
  "Are there any more people in Manhattan?" Jeannette asked.

  Apryl and Jake looked at each other. "Do you think we can trust them?" he asked her.

  "Does it matter at this point?" she said. "There's one more," she said to Jeannette. "And he needs a doctor."

  * * *

  Jeannette, Louise, and Harrison went inside the hut with Apryl. The others stayed outside to examine the space and look for any useful information. The hut was bigger than Harrison thought it looked from the outside. He wasn't sure if that was an optical illusion or some sort of magical attribute, but he was a long way from caring about that sort of thing anymore.

  There were several rooms. They walked through a main room, furnished with comfy chairs and bookcases, to one of the side bedrooms. This room was sparse, with a dresser, a single bed and a nightstand. On the nightstand sat a glass of water, apparently untouched. In the bed lay a man who had curly white hair and a bushy white beard. He was thin and he had rough, wrinkled skin that looked worn out. Harrison had no estimate of his age other than very, very old. His eyes were closed, but his head was rocking back and forth and he was mumbling.

  Jeannette immediately knelt beside him and felt his forehead. Then she took a thermometer from her bag, put it in his ear and pressed the trigger. She read the number without comment or expression. "How long has he been like this?" she asked, feeling around his throat.

  "It's been gradual," said Apryl. "He's been sick for months, but it's only been really bad the last couple weeks."

  "What's his name?" asked the doctor.

  Apryl didn't say anything. As Jeanette was beginning to think she hadn't heard the question and was about to repeat it, Apryl said, "He never told us his name."

  There was a curious pause. "Why not?" Harrison asked.

  She hesitated. "He said he didn't want history to remember it." She said this quietly, in the guilty tone of one who has kept a wicked secret and finally broken under the burden.

  "Oh," said Harrison quietly. He took a closer look at this weak, sickly man. "Oh. My. God."

  "Please help him," Apryl whispered to Jeanette. "He's not a bad person, really. He just made a terrible mistake. He wasn't trying to do this. You have to believe that."

  The old man stirred and groaned. "Rope him," he said. "Not my fault. Rope him." His eyes were glazed, and it wasn't at all clear whom he thought he was addressing.

  "Harrison," said Louise calmly, "would you please ask Alec and Bess to come in here?"

  Things were spinning too quickly for Harrison to fully follow. He remembered the last time Alec and Bess had worked together, and the memory made him ill. He also remembered that he had now been told explicitly, twice, that these decisions were none of his concern. He didn't know if he had the energy to fight this battle again, right now. "What are you going to do?" he asked. Jeannette looked to Louise, the same question obviously on her mind.

  The old man sat up abruptly. "You have swords, don't you? Don't you!" he shouted. Harrison thought he was talking about Bess, which worried him for a fraction of a second. He didn't look coherent enough to have perceived anything that subtle, though. "Everyone has a sword now!" the old man shouted again. "Get one on any street corner, can't you?" He laughed. It was a bitter sound, and for one instant he looked almost rational. Then he began sobbing and fell back against his pillow.

  Harrison stared at this helpless, pathetic wreck of a man. "Why do we need Alec and Bess?" he asked. He tried to imagine what kind of threat this person could possibly still be, or what purpose it would serve to kill him.

  "We're going to help him," said Louise. "And he's going to help us."

  Well, vague, but reassuring. He would not die today. Could he trust her? What choice did he really have? "Right away ma'am," he said, and left.

  He found Alec outside, standing under a fruit tree with Claudia and Glimmer and holding a large, purple fruit rind. "You're wanted inside," said Harrison. He wrinkled his nose. "Does anyone else smell fish?" Glimmer giggled.

  "They're kippers," said Alec. "What's going on?"

  Harrison was irritated. All this time, he had been living on sponges, and Alec had smuggled in a can of fish. He had no interest in them, and they smelled foul, but there was a principle here. Where did that limey get off bringing real food and eating it right in front of them? "Louise wants you and Bess inside," he repeated. "It's not my job to know what's going on."

  "Right enough," said Alec. He dropped his fruit rind and went inside.

  "Are you hungry?" Glimmer asked mischievously. Claudia was smirking. She had a piece of purple fruit, too. She had partly peeled it, and he could see that the flesh was white and green and flaky. It did not look especially appealing.

  "Not really," he said. "I'm not in the mood for fruit at the moment." He was trying to be polite. Between the smell of fish and the gross-looking fruit, he really didn't have much appetite.

  "What are you in the mood for?" Claudia asked. She was baiting him, and he knew it, but he couldn't tell why or how. It didn't matter right then. This was the first time she had ever treated him in a playful, or even friendly, manner, and he decided to run with it.

  "Chicken Cordon Bleu," he said.

  Claudia pulled a large, purple fruit from the tree and tossed it to him. It was some sort of citrus, he thought, about the size of a grapefruit, but with a loose skin, like a clementine. "What is this?" he asked.

  "It's an omni," said Glimmer. "Try it." Both she and Claudia were smirking now.

  He looked at his fruit, then at Claudia's. "These things look pretty gross."

  "I think you'll like it."

  He winced but kept playing along. The rind came off easily, and as he tore it away, he saw white flesh like Claudia's fruit, but with a different texture. And no green. Instead of flaky, it was slick and steaming.

  Chicken. He almost dropped it, but then the smell hit him and he looked at it in a new light.

  "Go on," said Claudia.

  Tentatively, he bit into it. It was tender, salty, and as he pulled it away from his mouth, he watched Swiss cheese run slowly through a tube of ham. He labored to overcome the cognitive dissonance of a meat tree. It tasted really good, but it gave him the willies. "What's yours?" he asked Claudia.

  "Spanakopita," she said. "Alec's was the kippers."

  "Not bad," admitted Harrison.

  "Beats the shit out of our sponge machines," she said. "Jake says they've been living off these for almost a year. Not a bad setup, if you don't mind no outside human contact."

  "Where did everybody else get to?" Harrison asked. He took another bite of his chicken fruit.

  "They're snooping around," Glimmer said. "Looking for magic. I should probably be helping them."

  "Let's go inside," said Claudia. "See if we can make ourselves useful."

  * * *

  Hadley and Jake were in the front room, talking about life in New York City over the last year, when Harrison, Claudia and Glimmer joined them.

  "No," Jake was saying, "I've never used anything magical. Apryl hasn't, either, I don't think." He was answering one of Hadley's many questions. "We do have a collection of stuff that looked like it might be something important, but none of it seems to work." He shrugged. "We didn't try very hard, though. Maybe you guys can get it up and running."

  "Can I see this collection?" Hadley asked.

  "Sure. We keep it in the basement."

  "This hut has a basement?" Harrison asked.

  "Yeah," said Jake. "Weird, huh?"

  Harrison thought about how drastically he had redefined the idea of weird over the last year and had to admit that this didn't really rate. The five of them walked down a narrow flight of stairs into a windowless room. There was an electric light fixture in the ceiling. It cast its light on a dozen or so shelves, each one of which held some sort of bizarre treasure. Glimmer immediately began flitting from item to item.

  "Nope. Nope. Nope," she said, rapid fire, as she examined a broken knife, a gold-p
lated box, and a bisque statuette of a moose.

  "Whoa!" said Jake. "What's she doing?"

  "Checking for magicality, I wager," said Hadley. "She has a nose for it."

  "What about this?" asked Harrison, picking up a stick from a shelf next to him. It was some sort of polished wood, a dark gray-brown. At one end, the wood had been split into seven sections, and it looked as if they had been soaked and bent. They were wrapped around a small green marble like little wooden tentacles. The other end was capped with a piece of polished brass.

  "Hey!" said Glimmer. "Good eye!" She held out her hands. "May I?" As he wordlessly passed it to her, he caught a glimpse of her right hand, shy a finger. Sometimes, the weight of his guilt was so great he could feel his back muscles straining. He remembered his callous remark of the day before.

  "Glimmer?" he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

  "Let it go," she said. "I'm working here." She held the stick straight out and looked down the shaft with one eye open. It was longer than she was tall, but she handled it deftly. "Hmm," she said in a professional voice. "No warping, no fractures, emerald ball intact, nice metalwork." She handed it back to Harrison. "I'll give you twenty-four hundred for it. I assume you have all the paperwork?"

  "What?" said Jake.

  "I'm shitting you," she said. "It's a beautiful piece of work, and unlike some of the stuff you have here, it is a magic wand."

  "What does it do?" He sounded eager.

  "Nothing, unfortunately," she said. "The safety's on. Whoever last owned this baby didn't want anybody messing with it."

  "Oh." He was crestfallen.

  "Don't let it bother you," she said. "It's just as well, really. Humans have a pretty hard time with this stuff. Even if you could get it to work, you'd probably just end up exploding your eyeballs or something."

  Jake looked ill.

  "Well," said Harrison. "That was gratuitous."

  "What about this stuff?" asked Claudia. She indicated a shelf with a few technological objects strewn across it. She held one up. It looked a little bit like a handle to something larger. Several clear buttons and diodes were visible on it, none of which were lit. It reminded Harrison of a video game controller, but it was smoother, and ergonomically designed for one hand, not two. The gadgets made Harrison think about the junk in his pack, and he couldn't help but smile.