Nica of the New Yorks

by Sue Perry

  Right Cyst interrupted, "That's enough for now."

  "And off we go, lads in front."

  "Farewell, Neeks, so wonderful to see you again!"

  Abruptly the Cysts waddled away, trailing their Entourage.

  Something behind me at the top of the stoop had hastened them away. I grabbed the railing to steady myself as I turned, half expecting to see the Julian had grown an enormous face. Instead, tall and stern on the top step with tail swishing, was —

  Leon?

  Leon's arrival had compelled the retreat of three Cysts and twelve Entourage? It was one impossibility too many. My mind went on standby as I dragged myself up the steps. I dropped my keys and when I reached for them, I brushed against Leon, who broke into one of his giant purrs. He leaned toward my hand to get petted and lost his balance. The world's unlikeliest superhero scampered into the building ahead of me and rubbed my legs, purring, as we headed upstairs. I clutched the railing to make sure he didn't trip me.

  In my apartment, Leon sprawled with me on the couch. His purrs rumbled me while I sang my mantra, which jump–started my brain and dissipated my exhaustion.

  Maybe not tonight, but Warty Sebaceous Cysts would be back; and when they were nearby, they would snoop inside my head. Thus it was only a matter of time before they discovered my plan to free the books. I didn't yet know whether my plan was possible. But if it was possible now, it would not be so after the Cysts learned my intentions.

  I lay there and I rested and I revived; and as soon as I could manage it, I slid my lap out from under Leon and headed for the Halls of Shared Knowledge.

  51. THE TIME OF THE TRAITOR

  The Halls of Shared Knowledge were enchanting at night. The tree stones glowed, illuminating the walls from within. The whorls of each stone pulsed and shifted, mesmerizing me. Briefly, I forgot Maelstrom and the Cysts and only felt grateful to enjoy the wonder of the Frames.

  "Welcome, seeker," came the bookcase greeting when I stepped into the Halls. "Your visit is late but no less welcome."

  "You know what happened tonight, right?"

  "Of course."

  "Sleep is not as important as knowledge tonight. The races of Expletive Deleted. What are the ones who look like grandmothers called?"

  "They are called grandmaters."

  "The race they evolve from, the really handsome guys, what is that?"

  "Those are called seeders."

  "I need to find a particular seeder, or someone he may have confided in. He lived many years ago, so now he is a grandmater or dead. Show me everything that might help me find a particular seeder. For example, I probably need to know the government and social structure of Expletive Deleted—are records kept of births, deaths, or seeder transformations to grandmaters?"

  "What is the name of the seeder you seek?"

  "I don't know. He was an accomplice at the baby farm, one of the three who Maelstrom did not kill. As far as you know."

  There followed a pause that was ten months pregnant, then the voice said, "Step to a viewer."

  It took a couple hours to become an expert on Expletive Deleted culture and social hierarchy. The bottom lines were that if only a seeder had the information, it was buried in a mass grave. However, if the seeder evolved into a grandmater, all information survived, because the grandmaters share consciousness, like the earthworm healers— and many other beings through the Frames, as I was learning. The grandmaters lived unless somebody killed them, which rarely happened because they were sacred.

  "Hey, Julian," I called to my building as I opened his front door upon my return from the Halls.

  "Good evening, Nica. I speak without reference to this particular evening."

  "Yeah, it sucks that Maelstrom is free."

  I regretted exposing Julian to such language, until he replied, "As a former tenant in 4G was fond of uttering, it bites the big one."

  Hearing that—in Julian's refined tones—I had to laugh. His windows rattled in a way that I took to be a polite titter.

  "Is it safe for me to go back to Ma'Urth?" I hadn't felt any risk coming here; the Halls of Shared Knowledge felt so isolated from daily life. But I was nervous about going home.

  "No Frame can be called safe now, as you know. May I assume you question the proximity of Warty Sebaceous Cysts?"

  "Or their minions and colleagues."

  "None are present in my sensory sphere. It would be unwise to inquire about their whereabouts—the buildings could mistake my inquiry for a request and summon them. If you will pardon my boldness, I offer two suggestions. Firstly, when you must Travel, do as you have done here and inquire of a sentient structure to ascertain conditions. I for one will not permit entry unless I deem it safe."

  "That is terrific advice. What's the second suggestion?"

  "Carry your books with you."

  I should have thought of that. "I see what you mean! Thank you!"

  As soon as I got home to Ma'Urth, I wanted to leave. It was a dismal morning. The sun had presumably risen but the sky was thick. Gray and damp.

  I stuffed my books in my backpack, then I Traveled with them to my apartment in Frivolous Bedlam and trained them to stay inside the backpack, but fly out, fast, whenever I said, "Books, to me." From then on, I kept the backpack unzipped to allow them egress.

  Leon was beside me the moment I returned to Ma'Urth and stayed with me when I went to Bedlam. He sat like an Egyptian cat statue as I trained the books, then followed me outside. Food carts surrounded us and followed with extra enthusiasm. Huzzah! Cat Shaver and the cat she shaved.

  In Bedlam, the sky was clear but the wind was biting. I tried to go back to Ma'Urth to grab a warmer jacket but whenever I attempted to Travel to Ma'Urth, Leon did figure eights around my legs, tripping and delaying me. When I stayed in Bedlam, he moved a few feet away. I took this to mean that I should stay in Bedlam, so I renamed the cold wind as bracing.

  My destination was Expletive Deleted, to search for information from the seeder who had been an unwitting baby farm accomplice. I only knew one way to get to Expletive Deleted and that was across Brooklyn Bridge. I would be well and fully braced by the time I got there.

  Considering the dangers in Expletive Deleted, a Maelstrom stronghold, Leon might not let me Travel there so I worked on a Plan B. However, somewhere midtown, Dizzy appeared to strut alongside us, tail in the air. She allowed me to pet her once, then she ran off. When she returned, then ran off again, Leon followed.

  Sans cats, the remaining trek to Brooklyn Bridge seemed longer and colder. My legs were stiff yet rubbery and I didn't know what lay ahead so I needed to preserve my ability to run. I turned to the food carts. "Can you give me a lift to Brooklyn Bridge?"

  "Of course but no!"

  "Hmm. I'm not sure what that means."

  A push cart shoved forward. "We want to take you but we don't know that Brook–lenn. What you said."

  "I'll direct you," I promised as I settled onto the push cart. The other food carts zoomed, raced, and popped wheelies as we continued southeast. Maelstrom's release didn't seem to have affected them. The only time they'd dropped their party attitude was when they transported me after Lilah's murder.

  Lilah. My mood turned dark and I hummed my mantra, which didn't help. How could it? The dark about Lilah came from me, not Maelstrom. To get out of my head, I struck up conversation with the carts. "I'm glad but surprised you're so cheerful. You know about Maelstrom, right?"

  The carts performed stunts and answered in between. "Maelstrom is free... It's terrible... Until Maelstrom comes here... We can do nothing... Except enjoy this morning..."

  "Which of you has the zen pills? I need some too." They stopped doing tricks. Not giving Cat Shaver what she needed was serious. "That was just a joke."

  Oh Cat Shaver! She told a joke with us in it! The carts cavorted with such enthusiasm that their wheels squeaked. On them it sounded cute.

  A couple blocks from Brooklyn Bridge, the East River started screaming and the cart
s braked. I jumped off my transport, patted it to say thanks. No conversation was possible with the river that loud.

  I sprinted to the center of Brooklyn Bridge. There, as hoped, the river's noise was muted by the Bridge's concrete and steel.

  "Hello, Nica, your step remains hearty," Brooklyn Bridge said.

  "I'm glad you think so," I replied, searching the outer struts for the spot Kelly Joe had showed me, the place to begin my Travel to Expletive Deleted.

  The Bridge seemed to sense my intended destination and advised, "Shift Frames after my midpoint. Before that I have no room, while the seeders make their exodus."

  So the seeders were leaving Expletive Deleted. It was an odd juxtaposition: I envisioned the Bridge packed with their sexy struts as they fled for their lives. "I only know one way to get to their Frame so I'd better wait. Let me know as soon as the way is open." I leaned against the nearest pillar. "What can you tell me about that exodus?"

  "The rulers of Expletive Deleted currently celebrate the return of Maelstrom. The seeders must flee before the celebration concludes and their servitude turns to slavery."

  I paced from one side of the Bridge to the other, willing the seeders to safety. Sometimes the wind carried giddy laughter from Manhattan's buildings. Their innocence was overpowering. "Why am I the only visitor? Bedlam is such a great place. I know that coming here is by invitation only but I can't be the only invite."

  "You are not. However, 'all evil and many good shall excluded be, until the time of the traitor.'"

  "Sounds like you are quoting a prophecy."

  "Rather, that is a ward to protect Frivolous Bedlam. It was put in place during the last war for the Free Frames."

  "When does the time of the traitor come?"

  "Many have posed that question, without answer."

  I gazed at the skyline. "Frivolous Bedlam is as safe as anywhere can be for now. But it does get lonely."

  "Yes, the ward has had unintended consequences. Most seriously, the buildings have fallen into confusion, with none but themselves for conversation. There is room for your steps in Expletive Deleted now."

  "Then here I go."

  I wanted to know more about the ward—it seemed important—but I couldn't risk delay.

  "Take much care. In the steps that depart Expletive Deleted there is great fear. Moreover –"

  I reached Expletive Deleted and could no longer hear the Bridge for the tromping of the well–turned feet of the seeders. With each minute, the crowd thinned as seeders brandished inhalers that allowed them to change Frames and disappear. Their inhalers looked new, as did their knapsacks, and I got the sense these were go bags set aside for this emergency.

  It was still night here. A symptom of this Frame's affinity for Maelstrom? Seeders dashed to the Bridge from the shadows of side streets and avoided the thoroughfare where a street party raged. There, under bright spotlights, Cobra people staggered. They plunged arms into enormous urns, pulled them out soaked in a thick ooze. They rubbed ooze on their necks then lurched to the next urn.

  Up the boulevard on a stage, platinum–maned dancers moved with disturbing precision. That had to be an Entourage troop. If I allowed myself to react I would run back across the Bridge, so I cut myself off from my reactions and dashed to the shadows of a side street. It was surprisingly dark everywhere except the main thoroughfare. Had the buildings gone dark to support the exodus?

  Roaring, a group of Cobra people threw an urn to break the plate glass of a shop front and lunged inside, leaving blood slicks on the broken glass. They dragged a seeder out of hiding, pinned him against the brick wall, and formed a semi–circle that looked like the birth of a gang rape.

  I had books in my backpack. Together we might be able to save that victim and flee across the Bridge... Unless the Cobra people also had books nearby... But the rescue would show the enemy that I could control books... Maybe if I went back to the Bridge and released the books from there... As I groped for a viable rescue method, my inner survivor yelled, Get out of this Frame. Now. The Cobras terminated my ethical dilemma when they dragged the seeder toward the Entourage. That group was too large to fight.

  The Bridge had indicated things would get worse when this celebration was over. If I was going to find a grandmater it would have to be now. I pushed deeper into the dark of Expletive Deleted.

  52. YES, DEARIE

  A hand grabbed my arm, a hand with scaly skin and a lead–pipe grip. The hand of a Cobra person. As fast as instinct, I Traveled us to an unknown Frame.

  "Nica!" The voice was so sibilant it made my name sound like a hiss. "This is an insubstantial Frame!" It was Hari!–Ya.

  I had transported us to a Frame with bottomless drops between discontinuous shards of sidewalk and street. We flattened ourselves against an ornate brick building and inched toward a sidewalk without gaps. I had a scraped cheek and ten broken nails by the time we got to solid ground.

  "Sorry. I thought you attacked me so I took us someplace where you'd have no backup. Are your people really celebrating Maelstrom's freedom?"

  She used her tunic to dab blood from my cheek. "Most do so, while the rest of us help the seeders and grandmaters to escape. Stay away from Expletive Deleted! You face more danger than any seeder."

  I grabbed her arm. "I can't. I've got to talk with a grandmater. Can you take me to one?"

  She stared like she was a psychic and I was her crystal ball. Future cloudy, ask again later.

  "There is no time to explain. Please."

  "If I tell you to leave, you must do so instantly."

  "Agreed."

  She took my hand and we Traveled back to Expletive Deleted, where the celebration had grown louder and wilder. Hari!–Ya murmured, "They will lose consciousness soon, but for too brief a time. Hurry."

  She wound us through dark streets to a lit street with a scruffy park at the center of an intersection. Shouts and roars echoed from the dark as we approached the park, where a handful of grannies played in the dirt.

  The grannies were arranging flower petals in a construct that resembled a Buddhist sand mandala. The design swirled and jumped like the Connector map seen in a kaleidoscope. It was explosively beautiful. A sudden breeze scattered petals and erased what must have been hours of work. The grannies continued the design into new territory, making no effort to repair the wind disruptions. Watching them place petals was so soothing.

  An absence of celebration noise roused me. If the celebration noise had stopped, that must mean the celebrants had fallen into the brief stupor that was our last brush with safety.

  "There is still time for you to escape if we hurry," Hari!–Ya said to the grandmaters.

  "Save yourself, precious," a grannie replied, as though offering a fresh cookie. Another added, as though reciting a nursery rhyme, "Maelstrom will kill us."

  "The Frames are vast, we can hide you," I said. It was so quiet that I lowered my voice mid–way.

  "That is not our destiny," murmured another grannie, as though declining a foot rub.

  "Ask your questions," Hari!–Ya told me, peering into the dark quiet streets behind us.

  I squatted beside the grannies. "I need information about the seeder who helped Maelstrom create his baby farm."

  "He did not intend to help with the baby farm."

  "So you know of him? Did he die or did he transform to one of you?"

  "Yes, dearie."

  OMFSG, as Jenn might text. Already, there were scattered, groggy yells from the celebration area. Some celebrants were stirring. Hari!–Ya touched my shoulder. Time to scram.

  "Go if you need to, I'll catch up," I said, although I knew Hari!–Ya wouldn't agree and I wasn't sure I could find my way back to the Bridge without false turns in the dark. She gripped my bicep and listened intently to noise from the celebration area.

  I tried not to talk fast; that might make the grannies slower. "At the Halls of Shared Knowledge I learned that a seeder did help with the baby farm."

  "No,
he was there to enslave the books."

  "How?!" My shout scattered petals. "I'm so sorry that I startled you. How did that happen? How did he enslave the books?"

  Hari!–Ya pulled me to standing then—firmly and steadily—away. She guided me so I could walk backwards and continue to throw futile questions at the grannies.

  "How did the seeder help with book enslavement? Please! It's important that I know."

  A grannie looked up, and even at distance her eyes twinkled. "It certainly is, dear child."

  The small kneeling figures looked like discarded bundles of clothes. "Should we carry some of them to force them to come with us?" I muttered to Hari!–Ya.

  "No, they would resist and we would all die."

  Sadness swept me.

  A grannie stood briefly and volunteered, "He used the device."

  It was hard to hear over the noise from the roused celebrants. "Did you say 'device'? What device?"

  "The device that eats books. Maelstrom feeds good books to it and that makes bad books."

  Hari!–Ya yelled in my ear. "Time to run or time to die."

  From one of the dark side streets came a mob roar and brief terrified screams. It was easy to imagine that the celebrants, headed this way, had discovered a seeder.

  I let Hari!–Ya grab my hand and Travel us out of Frame. We ran southwest and returned to Expletive Deleted when we reached the boulevard beside the Bridge. "Hold. Some come this way," she whispered, and hold I did, for a few long seconds. Alone.

  Hari!–Ya staggered out of the shadows toward her fellow Cobra people.

  "Have you found prey?" Somebody called to her, and multiple sets of feet ran our way.

  She slurred her reply like her tongue was thick with brew from the urns. "Not here! Across there, don't you see?"

  The feet paused. "I see him!" someone yelled, and multiple sets of feet sprinted away from the Bridge, with roars that chilled my marrow. Meanwhile, Hari!–Ya was back to clutch my arm and we ran for the Bridge. She looked grim.

  Amid the roars behind us came terrified screams. Intentionally or no, she had sacrificed another to guarantee my escape.