Lizard Girl & Ghost

by Olga Werby

  Ghost shrinks down into his gray cat form again and says that it’s time to go. He climbs up on my back. Pixie follows, bringing my glass scales. I look around. The clearing that I made with my Fireballs vision is shrinking rapidly. Already, the shrubs are poking me in the sides and one tree is practically attacking my tail—I don’t turn to examine it too closely because my neck is too fragile now. Glass snail eggs, you know.

  When Ghost and Pixie are safely ensconced behind my shoulder blades, I take off. Without discussing it or even making a conscious choice, we fly away from the lake, towards the mountain with the castle and ring city.

  I am not sure what is going on—why are we doing this adventure? What am I supposed to learn from it? How did Ghost do it? An insane sense of toska threatens to overwhelm me. I have never felt so empty, so emotionally alone. And yet I know that Ghost and Pixie are here to help me. They said so, didn’t they? Maybe this is how Ghost felt before Doc put him together again and gave him a new neural network structure? If I got one of those, would I feel better?

  I flap hard, trying to get to our destination faster. I want to talk to Doc. The black marble castle is easy to see—it was clearly created to be a destination attractor for visitors. “Go here first, you damn players.” Well, we didn’t. And now Pixie sports a glass hand and I have a glass neck. Lesson learned. If only I knew what lesson that was.

  “Land outside of town,” Ghost tells me.

  As if the occupants won’t see a giant green dragon with seven heads and bright orange wings flying their way. But I do as Ghost says, and we land in a beautiful little meadow, not far outside the first moat that flows around the Ring City, encircling the black castle. There’s one more moat, one separating the castle from the city itself. It seems like a lot of defenses for a Sleeping Beauty adventure. Since the princess is already in her sarcophagus, shouldn’t everyone in her kingdom be asleep too? I know, I know—I complain a lot. But only to myself, mind you. I keep it all inside. It’s just too hard to hold a conversation when you are a mute dragon. Okay, I feel better now.

  “Jude? Are you good?” Pixie asks. She and Ghost have already disembarked from the mighty dragon express and walked around to face my main head—very considerate of them since I can’t really turn my neck anymore. Eggs.

  “Grrrroooowllled.” Well, I think that was perfectly clear.

  “Sorry about your neck,” Ghost says and brushes his tail against one of my eel heads. Instant ecstasy from that one. As long as everyone understands who the head honcho is here. “I would like to sneak into the city and explore a bit before we take it,” he continues.

  “Take it?” Pixie sounds confused. “Take what? The city? Take it where?”

  Yeah, what was that about? I am not taking this city. I’ve retired from all military engagements since my neck turned into a medical exhibit. I am sure Pixie and Ghost can trace the flow of blood to my brain, just like I can see Pixie’s pulse in her glass appendage.

  “I just meant that we would probably need to go over to the castle,” Ghost says, “and solve whatever puzzles they have for us there. That’s all. But the city might hold clues, and I don’t think we can take Jude the Dragon with us to explore the little winding streets. You can stay,” he nods to Pixie, “and keep Jude company. I’ll be back soon.” And I can stay in touch with you the entire time, he adds for my benefit.

  Sure, I tell him. I need a bit of rest. I have been feeling pretty funked-over. He gives me a concerned look, but I bray for him to get a move on. Ghost spins and streaks into the bushes. He ghosts—turning himself into a shadow—and we lose track of him almost instantly. Too bad that even if I ghosted, my size would probably betray me. What was that? you’d say. I don’t see a thing, but it sure feels huge. Yeah, wouldn’t work.

  I curl up on the sweet-smelling grass and allow myself a rest. I am not sleepy, but my body is very tired. I make sure that my snakes are assigned guard duty and close my eyes.

  I am in the white light room again. I can’t move, but I can observe, as long as the object or person is close to me. There is nothing next to me; well, nothing close enough to see.

  “How are you doing, Princess?” That’s my dad! He must be in here somewhere, but I can’t see him. The white light is almost like a white light fog; it’s hard to make things out. “We’re working very hard to bring you back,” he says.

  Bring me back from where? From the Sleeping Beauty adventure? Well, it is about time! Better do that before my brains turn to glass. I try to move my head. Nope, nothing. Must still be inside my glass coffin. Is my neck getting worse? Hard to tell, lying down like this.

  “I want you to go talk to Gattara,” he says.

  Gattara? How does Dad know the old witch? And where would I find her? I only vaguely remember her expanding garden house out somewhere in The Far Cinct. I suppose I could leave the adventure—I am good with that—and go look for her. She does turn up uncommonly often for an old hag.

  “Do you hear me, Jude? Go find Gattara. She’s on your side,” he tells me again.

  The white light dissolves and I am back, lying in the green meadow. Pixie is snoring softly next to me. I am glad I asked my snakes to keep their eyes out; my knight in shining pink armor is asleep on the job. I am not interested in sleep, not anymore. Without sleep, there is so much more time. If I am not careful, I can see getting bored even here, in a grand fantasy adventure—glass castle, black castle, magic forest, ring city, moat, more magic, blah, blah, blah…

  I decide not to wake Pixie; she is clearly tired. So, I play with my eye options to pass the time—not much else to do out here in the bush. I pull up my menu and look though the choices again. There are a few I have never tried before: MalSpy and Ghost Seekers look the most promising. I try Ghost Seekers first. Perhaps I can watch over Ghost as he treks through the Ring City looking for clues. I make sure my snakes remain vigilant then switch my vision to Ghost Seekers.

  Whoa! We are surrounded by ghosts—the little semi-autonomous programs. Some are tending to the trees, others are directing the wildlife out in the surrounding woodlands, and still others are actually in charge of the cool butterflies! Of course—there is code behind all of these amazing sutaffus, and this eye option apparently allows me to see the code explicitly. I wonder what the ghost restructuring the lake looks like with Ghost Seekers. It would have been cool to find out, but I won’t go back to look—too much effort. Oh, and I hate that place.

  There must be something interesting I can do with this vision option. If I only knew how to program these ghosties…I bet Doc knows how. I make a note to ask him later. For now, I scan for threats. I don’t want to be attacked by any more malevolent apps. One glass neck and one glass hand are enough. More than enough. But nothing-obvious jumps out—or at least I can’t really tell the difference between a good app and a bad one, and I get bored.

  I switch to MalSpy. The world turns black and white, almost like The Edge neighborhood between The Far Cinct and our local cyber arcade. I feel a slight buzzing behind my eyes. There is a vibration in everything. It is easy to spot the artifacts with good vibrations—the trees and shrubs around us as well as the grass and a few of the enchanted animals I can see—all seem to be buzzing with positive energy. I can’t really move my neck, so I roll my eyes to scan as much of my limited field of view as I can. I am looking for bad vibrations, and as soon as I zero in on Pixie’s hand, I see it. It is evil, angry looking. In MalSpy vision, Pixie’s hand doesn’t even look like a hand; it is more like a monstrous maggot, chewing on Pixie’s flesh. It has her entire wrist and forearm in its mouth—three fingers are sticking out of its mouth. I thought we flicked off all of the evil glass snails from Pixie’s body, but I can see that whatever evil app started to consume her is still there, doing damage. I consider trying to kill the maggot, but I know how fragile Pixie’s hand is. Instead of killing the evil thing, I might break off her arm.

  My neck! I can almost feel the sick maggots eating away at
my flesh. They are there, I just know it. Even though I can’t move my neck or swirl my eyes enough to actually see them, with the MalSpy vision I can perceive them nonetheless. It makes me feel sick, nauseous. Get them off me! I scream inside my head.

  Jude? Are you okay? Ghost answers me instantly. It sounds like he is right next to me, but of course he is far away. This mind-to-mind thing is cool. Jude? he calls to me again.

  I can see the evil maggots eating us, I say, unhelpfully. Ghost can’t know what I am talking about. He didn’t see the—

  So, you’ve noticed them, he says.

  What? He knew the entire time? He knew and didn’t say a word? Bad Ghost. Bad cat.

  Can you get them off of me? I ask. I think I show real restraint by not screaming. I feel like kicking him for lying to me. I am infected with noxious maggots and he forgets to mention it? Really? I can feel myself steaming; my dragon scales even turn a nasty yellow-green color. I feel vaguely poisonous; I hope the maggots choke on me.

  I don’t know how to remove them without hurting you, he tells me. And please don’t mention the maggots to Pixie. She’ll freak.

  Ya think? I take in Pixie’s peaceful expression. I won’t mention it, but I think she will hate us both later for not telling her about it. I would. I do. Ghost should have told me. I am a big girl, I can take it. I feel myself whimpering inside. I hate the slimy maggots.

  Can you feel when they move up your neck? Or down? he asks, casual like.

  I am too angry to lose it. How exactly would that feel, Ghost? I ask as calmly as I can. I really would like to know how much of me is being processed into glass as I lay here in the grass, resting.

  I don’t know. Wonderful. Just keep an eye out, Jude, he says. I’ll be back soon. The city is empty, or rather everyone is asleep. There’s no one to ask.

  That meshes with the Sleeping Beauty narrative: everyone is supposed to be asleep during this part of the story. But I don’t know where we fit in. Does the prince arrive to save the princess on a big green dragon? Well, the prince is snoring next to me. And she is maggoty. And so is the dragon. I have an idea. We can infect the princess by sharing a few stray maggots with her. If it was me and a poisonous maggot was dropped onto my body, I would wake up in a hurry.

  Okay. I will try to keep it together, I tell Ghost. I wish I knew how far away he was; it would make me feel better, a bit anyway. Talking mind-to-mind gives no clues to the distance between the speakers. Oh, Ghost? I remember what Dad told me. Did you by chance run into Gattara anywhere out there?

  No. But I’ll keep an eye out. You do that. I can almost feel him running through the virtual cobblestone streets. He moves from shadow to shadow, I just know it. I would like to do that too, but being a giant dragon has limitations. Flying is nice, though.

  I stand up and stretch my snakie wings. I can’t just lounge in the grass with maggots eating my neck. I have to move. I tap Pixie’s shoulder. Enough rest. Time to go. She opens her eyes and somehow guesses my agitation.

  “You want to do a reconnaissance flight over the city?” she asks. That is exactly what I want. I bray, and Pixie gets up, gingerly cradling her arm…and gently stroking the maggot eating it. I close my eyes and switch back to normal vision. Enough maggots. I feel her climbing up my back. When she is in position, I take off.

  “Jude?” she calls to me when we get above the trees. “Do you still have your camouflage ability?”

  Camouflage? I didn’t even remember I could do that. But in all of this viridescence, my green scales are perfect. What else would I pick to blend in with the forest?

  When I don’t answer her or make a sound of acknowledgment, she asks again, “Jude, if you were all blue and white, like a fluffy cloud in the sky, maybe we won’t get noticed right away from below.”

  Blue and white? A puffy cloud dragon? It doesn’t fit my ferocious self-image. Fluffy dragons are, by definition, not scary. But obviously it’s a good idea, and I suck in the surrounding colors and make my scales project it.

  “Not bad,” Pixie tells me. “I bet your big fat belly shields me from below completely.”

  “AAArrrgghhhh!” I shriek at her. A fat belly? Dragons are not fat! It’s all muscle. But I am pleased by the results of my camouflage. I’m like a fish with a light underside—the predators looking up will see only a slight movement in the space above them. Not that I, a giant ferocious dragon, have any predators. But I should try to remember all of the cool enhancements my avatar—lizard girl or dragon—has out here in The Far Cinct. They do come in handy.

  “Jude?” Pixie interrupts my inner reverie. “You and Ghost can talk to each other, right? I don’t mean to pry, but I can see you staring at each other and you seem to communicate, brain-to-brain like. Right?”

  True. But Ghost told me not to share that information with her. But it is not very convenient. I hate being so mute. I make an ambivalent noise—I can’t really talk, so I can’t really tell Pixie my secret.

  “That’s what I thought,” she says, interpreting my noncommittal grunts as a yes. “Do you know how I can do that with you? It sure would be handy.”

  Yeah, it would. But I don’t know how it works. I mumble more strange noises in response and she lets it go. She apparently doesn’t know how to set up a mind-to-mind connection.

  We circle high in the sky. I want to get a map-like layout of this place, and when we see something interesting, I can dive down to investigate. Pixie seems to understand my plan. We scan the terrain below. It is very regular, unlike real human habitations that grow haphazardly, showing evolutionary layers of continuous building and distraction. The Ring City below is orderly—all the streets form perfect circles with blocks that are divided into twelve arcs like the face of a clock. There are only two major ring streets before the big moat in front of the black marble castle with two entrances at six and twelve o’clock.

  The castle itself is composed of four short towers, positioned regularly at twelve, three, six, and nine on the watch dial, and a central minaret-like structure that casts a long shadow on the Ring City below like an hour hand. This looks like it was conceived, designed, and built in one go—poof: and we have castle. Ta-da: and we have a ring city around it. Unlike The Far Cinct or The Edge or even the cyber arcade, this was planned out by one master cyber architect. This is no design by committee thing. I wonder again who had that kind of power to make this place. If the glass castle in the lake was more of an emergent phenomenon, built from the bottom up by the glass snails based on some incipient algorithm, then this black castle is a creation of a clock despot or a time-obsessed lord.

  “Someone didn’t like to play well with others.” Pixie echoes my thoughts. She feels the totalitarian vibe as well.

  “Arrrgrrgr,” I agree with her in my dragon speak.

  “You know? When we adopted the Alice in Wonderland adventure to mend Ghost, it took months of work. We delegated huge chunks of it to subcontractors we found in The Far Cinct. Misfits, loners, and alienated geniuses fought each other for control over the final vision. It was a mess, but it worked for Ghost. This is too orderly. It gives me the creeps.”

  If she could only see the maggot chewing her hand…

  There’s no place for me to land in the Ring City. Now that I have to keep my neck stretched out at all times, the only location I would fit comfortably would be in the interior courtyard of the black castle, at the base of the black minaret. But I am not ready to do that just yet. Where’s Ghost? Where are Doc, Sleazy, and Slick? Where is Gattara?

  “I don’t see Ghost,” Pixie says as if following my train of thought. “Fly in a wider circle. There’s got to be a road or some transport access to this black castle city from the outside. Otherwise how would gamers get to it?”

  Good point. I make a wide turn and fly over the surrounding forest. There seems to be nothing but trees for miles around. How do people get here?

  “Nothing obvious,” Pixie says.

  Of course, I have oth
er ways to look. I pull up my vision menu again. X-Ray vision worked before to help me see through the trees by the lake and the street beyond the prison box walls. I pull it up…on…whatever…and voila, I can see an aerial bridge suspended underneath the canopy of the trees. It twists and turns into the distance but has several staircases and rope ladder drop-offs next to the Ring City moat. I can also see numerous elevation changes, and in some places the aerial walkway becomes a double decker. How many visitors does this city expect?

  Everyone is asleep in there, but not on the walkway. I am startled to see movement. I dive gently towards one of the places where the trees are spread a bit farther apart. I need to show this to Pixie; I want her to understand the structure of this adventure. If I weren’t a dragon, providing sky transport, Ghost and Pixie would have had to walk to the black castle on this suspended forest walkway.

  I make a quiet rumble—Pixie feels it more than hears it. I don’t want to give us away to anyone down there.

  “I see it,” Pixie says after a moment. “It’s huge!” She is speaking in a low voice. “Do you see anyone using it?”

  I purr some more, hoping it sounds like a yes.

  “Can you get me close enough to the walkway that I can get on it?” she asks.

  I worry—with only one arm and all that armor Pixie has limited agility. I don’t want her to jump or climb, she’s likely to fall off. And I would have to literally pick up the pieces—little glass pieces of Pixie’s hand and arm. Her glassiness has grown. I’m not sure she knows it, but it is possible she is being stoic for my benefit. More of my neck has probably turned into glass too, and she hadn’t mentioned that either. Good girl.