by Zamil Akhtar
Let go.
What was outside? A world set alight by a heavenly demon? A world that left her alone, that said nothing and took everything?
Abba.
Inertia pinned her to the wall. The ship accelerated. Her stomach yearned to come out. Acid gushed out of her throat, into her mouth and nose. She threw up crumbs on the floor. Coughed until they all dripped out.
She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Acid and rotten fish crumbs filled her sinuses. She blew them out of her nose. Coughed out the pain.
The window shutter thud-thud-thudded. It wanted to open. It wanted to show her something.
Against inertia, Saina crawled toward it, like she was climbing a steep road on her hands and knees.
Thud-thud. She was almost there. Just a bit more effort. If she stopped, she knew she would only fall, back to the wall, back to the pile of her insides.
Uncle. Aliya.
She grabbed onto an adjacent handle with her right hand and reached for the shutter with her left.
Remember when Dad, Nizan Uncle, Fahmi Uncle, Aliya, and I all lived together?
Back then, there was never a lonely moment. Laughter could always be heard from the living room, with the clank of tea cups and the whistle of water boiling on the stove. Late into the night, the three brothers and family and friends would talk about politics, spirituality, conduction, and the meaning of life.
The day Abba left was when all the bad started. And all the bad had led to this.
She pushed it out of her mind, gripped the window shutter, and pulled up.
One ship was left ahead. It tore into the beam and broke apart like a stale cookie smashed by a hammer. Shar saw it sunder; its debris spread over the clouds — splatters of chocolate. That’s going to happen to us any second now.
The viewing panel of the upper deck revealed everything. Dahma is here — I’ll make him stop.
It was hot as a fire pit. Wires dangled off the ceiling near a spinning sunsink. Its cylinders seemed to be in all places at once.
The tree man stood beneath it. Wires coiled around his branches. The shaking of the ship rustled leaves off him, which floated to the floor and vanished. The tin mask vibrated, a metallic tick-tick-tick.
It spoke as if the sound came from everywhere. “Have you prepared for what is to come, Shar?”
“Don’t do this!” Shar said. “No ship has made it past that beam!”
“It’s too late to turn around. We made this decision for the greater good.”
The ship entered a cloud. Whiteness covered the window panels.
“Why would you sacrifice everyone? For what?”
“Do you remember when you killed me?” The voice was hot in Shar’s ear. “This is just like that time. We sacrifice the few so the many can prosper. To spare Eden further suffering, we will do what we must to bring that ship down.”
A sulfur light cast through the glass — that beam. It was literally just ahead.
“What the soul fears most is suffering and nonexistence,” Dahma said. “You are one who believes he won’t die. Has that confidence left you?”
“How could you know that?”
“I know more about you than you.”
It’s too late. It’s all over. A few seconds is all he has left.
“This is it then,” Shar said. “I couldn’t—”
“You couldn’t tell your own son the truth.” It was Asha’s voice — coming from everywhere. “Look outside, and see the truth.”
Outside the glass, a blue smoke floated in the air: the Magus Asha. He hovered beneath the beam, holding a butterfly sword. The Magus hardly looked real. What was he doing?
The ground swerved, pulling Shar to the floor. As if his body filled with bubbles, he began to float. Like the ship entered free-fall. We’ve fallen off the levline?
When Saina pulled up the shutter, she saw a creature made of blue shadows. Is that...the Magus? It floated in the air, and hovering in its hands was a giant butterfly sword. A light emitted from the blade, whiter than the hottest fire. It blazed over everything, even the monster in the clouds.
It took Saina’s sight. She recognized this light because it carried a message. It poured into her soul and spoke to her words from a recital she’d heard long ago: Every soul shall taste death.
CHAPTER 8
YOUR SOUL TOO
TRANSCRIPT 0152 BETWEEN MESSENGER 01 and PILOT 01
Zauri: I’ve been sliced. Right in my chest. Oh Nur, it hurts.
Merv: The engineers are out to fix it, just bear it for a while.
Zauri: I...I don’t think I can remain conscious.
Merv: Give them a few minutes! Stay connected!
Zauri: Did you hear it? That light, did you hear what it said?
Merv: What it said?
Zauri: It said, every soul shall taste death.
Merv: A recital...or a threat?
Zauri: I’m collapsing. Help.
Layla was made of ice. A black sun gazed and melted blood off her body. Kav watched her liquefy — blue ice dripping red blood.
“Nur, help!” Each time he tried to warm her, his veins froze and pain chilled his brain.
Kav, I need you.
Her eyes were diamonds.
Hurry Kav, before I melt and become lost to you forever. I’m waiting...
Layla’s form sank into the puddle of blood. The blood reached to Kav’s ankles, then his knees, and then his waist and shoulders. It drowned him — a bloody suffocation.
Until a fire burned everything, and Kav awoke.
It was dark and his throat ached. Kav couldn’t feel his outer body. All awareness was now in his organs; his heart beat twice a second, his lungs pumped, his stomach sat still.
Recitals echoed through his mind. The words appeared in his thoughts, as if imprinted by that light. Every soul shall taste death. He could taste the metallic darkness of the words.
There was a pounding, a bursting lunge, snapping the stitches that closed the wound in his chest. It was a sensation he felt in the Almarian town after he had the surgery. Those stitches, if they tear, my heart will come out.
He saw a clock ticking down, back to zero, and at every tick, his soul cried. Tick.
Four seconds left. His heart wrangled, it wrestled to come out. Tick.
Three. He couldn’t get a taste of what he needed to survive: light. Just the smell of burning would be a nourishment so beloved that he fantasized of dancing at the fire.
A tremor. The world shook. What the blue hell is going on? Tick.
Two. He thought of Layla. One day he made her a sand sculpture. He poured all his creative energy into the sand, and it became glass, and she was so—
Tick.
One. Time over. The Angel of Death spoke, “Majnoon, get back here. Majnoon, Majnoon, Majnoon.”
No, that’s not my name. Nur help me.
Zero. Hello, Kav. A voice spoke in his head.
How did you...my aperture is clamped, I don’t even have a twicrys. How can you still talk to me?
I am the Whisperer who whispers in the heart of man. I see you from where you cannot see me.
Kav couldn’t move, as if held in place by some force.
I’ve forgiven you, Kav.
Forgiven me? What did I ever do to you?
You disobeyed me. You won’t get her back if you refuse my guidance.
Kav remembered: his bloody wrist in the forest, a shard of glass gleaming from his torn flesh. Saina’s scream.
You’re the one who lied to me. You promised to show me the way, you never said anything about a second and third Magus!
Killing that Magus was a fresh memory. Blood spewed out its head from both sides as it floated amid a tangle of wires and debris. No longer a monster, just a man.
It’s all part of a secure plan that unravels piece by piece. Now, for the next piece, you need to get to the Garden, but to do that you must insert the Key. Remember the eight-sided levship? It’s the only ship that can travel high eno
ugh to reach the Garden. With the Key inserted, you can pilot it.
Kav coughed what felt like blood. His throat stung.
Organ failure, as a result of the damage that caused your paralyses all those years ago. Without light, you will die. Your organs will soon reach a point of no return, from which healing is not possible. But I can help.
I don’t want to hear your fancy tales, and I don’t want your help. I’d rather die than help a Haemian.
I’m not a Haemian, and don’t lose your will to live just yet. Ah, can you feel it?
I can’t feel anything.
In your pocket, feel it.
Kav touched it. It was his last remnant of love. There was light in that crystal, the twicrys, Layla’s bond — the jewel she had given him on their wedding day.
Grasp it.
His hand in his pocket, he fingered it, caressing its tiny ingrains.
Now, Kav, this is the important part. Put the Key inside your aperture.
An absurd idea. But the jewel was so warm.
My aperture is clamped.
The clamp’s metal casing will shatter. That’s how powerful the bond is.
That’s ridiculous.
Try it. You’ve nothing to lose.
Kav pressed Layla’s jewel into his wrist. It won’t fit. It won’t work. And then it did. The jewel burned through the clamp and clicked into his aperture slot.
He saw that clock again, and it ticked a thousand seconds per second. A million billion suns swirled light between each other in an endless clock. The clock disappeared and suddenly Kav could see and feel everything again.
He opened his eyes, relieved. In the black room, there was no light, not even unseen bandwidths of light, and yet, he felt full of it.
The spectrum map came alive with every color. Kav realized he was in the sky. Dozens of levships arrayed the heavens, marching through the clouds. But around him, something unreal bent the light of the sun. Kav had never known anything like it. He went higher, into the sun itself, and higher. Spectrum information surged through him at undeniable speed. It was as if he saw everything that existed, and it showed him the way.
The way to the Garden. I can see it, is that where Layla is? It was somewhere, the Garden of Promise. He saw the otherworldly tree, more imposing than a mountain; and the clouds of every color; and a shade which spread over everything, a shade which cooled the world. It twinkled like the brightest star, and then his soul could take no more.
Layla, if you’re really there, if this isn’t just another trick, I’ll climb up there and find you.
A silhouette appeared. Kav focused his eyes. The person was upon him, touching his hair and cheeks. “Kav? You made it!” The voice of Shar.
“Somehow, I always seem to.”
“Were you thrown around at all? Any bruises?”
“Thrown around? By what?” At the far end of the room, Kav noticed something strange. The door was upside down. “Are we...standing on the ceiling?”
“She asked the same question.”
From behind Shar, a much shorter figure emerged. Glass red eyes gleamed in the bare light.
“Saina, you okay?” Kav asked.
She inspected her arms. “I think so.” As if she had to check.
Something burned; ash flurried in the air. The floor wobbled.
“Earthquakes?” Kav said.
“No time right now. We have to go. Both of you, stay close to me. You need to defend yourselves.” Shar handed Kav a blade. The grip felt so familiar, so right. “Don’t hesitate to use this when you have to. I’ll unclamp your aperture.”
“It’s not clamped.” Kav hid his wrist behind his back. Defend ourselves, from who?
“Not clamped? Whatever. Let’s just go.”
Outside the room, it was like a wind tunnel. Shattered glass rained from the ceiling in a metal corridor. A shard furiously darted at Kav. He raised his sword, noticed it was Zulfiqar. This is Saina’s...
Shar stepped in front and deflected the shard with his blade. “Stay aware.”
Shadows covered the corridor. A light from the far end provided some guidance.
“Take the girl’s hand,” Shar said, “and we’ll try to get by this, like a train.”
Saina huddled next to Kav and grabbed his hand. All together, they moved against the wind.
We’re in the same ship, but it’s upside down!
Suddenly, Saina screamed. Blue-orange fire burned through the floor. Shar quickly turned the corner, dragging Kav along, who pulled Saina with him.
Too close...
A wall of shattering glass appeared ahead. Deflections clanked off Shar’s sword, glass whizzing by. Step by step, they nudged their way to the shattering panel. Blood trickled onto Kav’s neck and shirt. It was not his own blood.
Shar’s head is bleeding...
“Shar! You...”
He couldn’t hear himself; the wind roared over his voice. Shar wasn’t the only one bleeding. Blood dripped down Saina’s hand. It was all over her arm.
The floor was the ship’s ceiling. Chairs dangled. They’d arrived at the bridge. A body was strapped onto the captain’s chair, blood spraying in the wind. General Mehr – or what was left of him. The three ascended to the edge where the wind was monstrous.
Kav clung to the wall and said in Saina’s ear, “You’re bleeding.”
She looked at him blankly. A stoic glare held back the terror she must have felt. “It’s not my blood, it’s yours.”
Shar hardened his grip on Kav’s hand, shouted, “We’re gonna jump!”
Below the shattering panel, there was a black floor. Or was it the darkness of a pit?
Kav closed his eyes to find out. His spectrum was too noisy. But in it, a motion burst through the noise, a solid pattern amid garble. An arrow, prismatic and blue — and it was coming right at them. Oh hell.
Wind and fire devoured everything behind them. Metal and glass exploded. The dying ship shrieked. Blue flames rushed at them; fire charred the metal beneath their feet. Shar jumped off. Kav grabbed Saina and jumped too.
Would they ever hit bottom? Shar did, smack onto the floor. And then Kav landed smack into Shar. Somehow, his head collided with Shar’s jaw.
“Dammit, my jaw.” Shar had broken Kav’s fall.
Kav had broken Saina’s. Her head was in his abdomen. They were on a cool, black floor. A smooth glow emitted from equally black walls.
Kav held out his arms, checked himself: blood and cuts all over. They were mostly hairline, and would probably close in a few hours. Saina examined herself too. To his relief, she seemed entirely fine.
But Shar wasn’t. His shirt was bloody. His face dripped from the forehead and chin, and glass stuck out from his hair, parts of his arms, and chest. Then he coughed something out. It clattered on the black floor: glass.
He smiled when he saw Kav’s concern. “So that’s what was itching my throat. Come on, let’s get off this thing.”
FINAL TRANSCRIPT BETWEEN MESSENGER 01 and PILOT 01
Merv: We used explosives to blow out the ship that crashed through your hull. I know I say this a lot, but I hope it didn’t hurt too much.
Zauri:
Merv: Zauri? I’m sorry for the pain, but we have invaders onboard and we need you to use your sensors. Respond!
Zauri:
Merv: Shit.
Merv disconnected from the direct communications system. He yanked out the wire in his wrist and unstrapped himself from the chair. At the center of the communications room, the queue orb spun with a healthy glow. Merv knew if they didn’t deal with the invaders, it would soon stop and the ship would fall.
“Zauri isn’t speaking! What do I do?”
No one answered because he was the only one in the room.
Merv sent a message to the bridge. Zauri isn’t speaking. I think she’s collapsed from pain due to the explosion. Or worse. Per protocol I request we check on her.
No response. Was everyone on th
e bridge dead? Last Merv had heard, the fighting had reached the Atrium.
He thought about it. Atrium...could it be, the invaders are jamming our frequencies somehow? I have to find out.
In the lift, he requested a ride to the Atrium. Instead, the damned thing began descending.
“Damned lift. Not now!” He stuck his finger in the command slot to stop the lift. The command queue lines appeared in his mind. His lift command had been overwritten — by the Patriarch.
Thank Nur the Patriarch lives.
The lift thudded to a stop and the door opened. Sweet music played in the distance. It could be heard from a door at the edge of the ornate hall. The air felt hot.
Fearing the invaders, Merv hesitated to open the door. In his mind, he saw Zauri, just a girl, trapped in her suffocating room, crying for help.
Steam immersed him as he pushed open the door. It filled his lungs. He cough-coughed it out.
What in Nur’s name is all this steam and fog?
Lost in fog, Merv could only see white. And then he heard a voice.
“Merv, you’ve come.” It echoed, as if the room was empty.
“Sir Patriarch? Thank Nur that you live!” The steam entered his mouth; he coughed. “How may I serve you?”
“I brought you here because the invaders have jammed our communications, and I need you to carry out an important task.”
“I will do anything you ask, sir. But please tell me, what is all this fog and steam?”
“Never mind that. It is the invaders we must worry about. They are clever. Though I still don’t know how they shut down the shield, it bought them enough time to avoid our weapons and shoot a hole into the belly of our ship. They then flew their small craft into the hole, and are now causing havoc onboard.”
So that’s what happened. Zauri must be terrified.
“Sir, I fear something has happened to Zauri. I request someone check on her.”
The steam thinned. The outline of a man appeared in the distance. Fruit vines appeared on the far walls. It was shocking how massive this room was.