by Paul Jessup
“Do you need to go out?”
She felt like she was talking to a pet dog. Do you want walkies? Tried not to laugh at this absurd image of walking full grown Mari outside on a leash. Her mind taunted her with silliness. She refused to give in. Something serious had happened to her, and she’d slept too long.
“We need to go, we need to go ...” Mari’s voice was all panic and hurriedness. Coming out all frightened from the tiny bird body that housed her patuek.
“Hold on.” Itsasu was calm in response. How could she be so calm? Yet, there it was. Maybe it was because of her numb noodle body. She couldn’t panic in a state like this. She could barely control her body.
“Ortzi?” she called out. Seeing if he was still where she’d left him. Legs still asleep or she would watch and check herself.
Brief sound of chattering bones from behind her. On that shelf. The dress draped over him slid down and revealed the pale bone and the glittering light of jewels. She’d hid him well. They never even suspected. “Yes, yes! My love, my dear, my dovetailed sweet. What do you ... oh! What’s happened? What’s happened to your head ...”
She reached up. Poked at the ache with her fingers. Felt her mind expand again with each poke. It hurt, in a way. A terrible painful hurt. Whispers flew through her thoughts with each stab of pain. “It’s that tattoo, isn’t it? They’ve branded me. What the hell. They’ve fucking branded me.”
Mari’s voice now. Her words more birdlike than before. Half a squawk and a ruffle of feathers. “It’s all happening again, it is, it is, just as it happened to me. They came and one day I glowed from the inside out, and they put that fire mark on my forehead, just like you! And then, the bear and the boy came for me. They covered me in the words, those demonic words that would filter into the blood and changed who I was. I felt it, then, all over again, just like the last time. I was being destroyed from the inside out! All the while unable to do a thing. They placed me in a tube, and filled it with fluid, and I stayed there awake while the words devoured me completely. Then, when I thought I was completely done for, they chopped off my head, placed an egg in my throat and set me aside. I slept and slept until I woke and was changed ...”
“I have to get going, I have to get moving ...”
“Can you move, though? Can you move, Itsasu? I couldn’t move after they had marked me. They numb your body, prepare you for the changes ...”
Whole body sigh. As she slumped back down against the chair. Flicked her fingers aimlessly. “I can barely move, but that never stopped me before. Ortzi?”
“Yes, love?”
“Can you scan me, please? See if you can reverse what they’ve done. And Mari, yes, Mari? Can you tell me this? If you had the virus inside of you, why aren’t you changed anymore? Why do you still sound like Mari? How come it didn’t kill you like it had killed the others? Are we truly free? Has Arigia’s blue light made us immune to its poisonous words?”
Ortzi nodded and began to scan her with an amber light from his jewel eyes. As Mari coughed and squawked and talked. “I can still feel it, in the back of my mind. It’s always present, forever there. It never leaves me, no, no. I can feel it ... like a presence, stalking me. Waiting for a moment of vulnerability, where it will rise up and destroy my thoughts again and again and again. That language is a giant looming inside of my mind. Hunting me.”
“Hmm,” Itsasu leaned forward. Hands still numb. Legs still numb. “I need to get going, before La and Basa come looking for me. No offense, but I don’t want to be a severed head. I don’t want to be a skull, and I don’t want to be a bird. I want to be me. All truly me and uninfected by whatever that thing was. That sakre that destroyed us and turned us into something else. Something dead and broken.”
Ortzi hummed for a moment after the scan. “Well, then. As I see it, we have several options.”
“Lay it on me.”
“I could whisper to the thalna in your bones and joints, get you moving, though your limbs will still be numb. You’ll have to communicate with me, get your radio mind to tell me what you want to do and how you want to move.”
Itsasu laughed. “Sounds exhausting. What are the other options?”
“Hmm. We can use a wheelchair. I think you have one still, in this room, from when they found you on the Good Ship Lollipop. You could still push your body, your arms aren’t as numbed up and broken as your legs.”
Itsasu paused. Thought about it all for a moment. She touched her hands. Still distant and strange. Like touching someone else. Someone other than herself. She touched her legs, and the same. Except the joints ached. Unmoving. Getting worse as time passed. The bones felt brittle beneath the skin. Was her body rejecting these new limbs?
Oh, oh. She hoped not.
* * *
Mari hovered down and landed on the table. Pecked at her wings for a moment and then said, “They gave you this new body, they can control it from afar. The thalna in your limbs? They are controlled wirelessly by the heart of this ship. Eventually they’ll rot and crumble from you like they did to me, and there will be nothing left, nothing at all. Oh, I can feel them coming, can’t you? The headhunters are coming for you. There is a charge to the air. Like a giant standing over us. Can’t you feel it, Itsasu? Can’t you feel it?”
She could, she could, and there it was. That overwhelming sense of dread. The shadows felt longer in that moment. Torn from the objects that cast them. As if all light was artificial and not real light at all. Instead it was a dream of light. An imitation of light. “We need to get going, where’s that wheelchair? We’ll probably be faster with it, I think. Faster than with you moving my limbs for me, I think.”
“Certainly, whatever you say my love. It’s over there, in that corner. Waiting for you.”
She turned and saw it. Breath caught. Remembered the last time she’d used it. When she’d ripped the wires from her body. Freed herself from the control of the heart. Freed herself from the chemicals it used to manipulate her. Ah, that fluid chamber. She both missed and detested it now. Remembering what that heart had done to her. How it had controlled her. Warped her. Kept her prisoner in the depths of the ship.
No time for that now. Now was the time for movement. For running and hiding out. Until we discover the truth of this matter.
She pulled herself up by aching arms over to the wheelchair. Legs dangled underneath as she unfolded it. Carefully, clumsily. Pulled herself up and onto it. Breathed in a sigh of relief. Now, now, now. Now was the time for action. It’s like an old friend, this chair. These movements. Just like an old friend. She wheeled over to Ortzi. The room cramped, making complex movements nigh impossible. Grabbed his skull and placed him on her lap.
“You can be our guide. Even though the Labyrinth has probably moved and changed yet again, I’m sure there is a method to this madness. A pattern my feeble human mind can’t unravel, but I bet you can. I bet you can see it if you tried hard enough, and studied all of our past maps.”
Ortzi chattered in her hands. “I’ll try.” His voice was morose. “I will try and try and try, my love.”
Mari spread her wings. Hopped once, twice, on tiny bird legs. Then flew over and landed on Itsasu’s shoulder. “Quickly, quickly. Less talking, more moving. Before they come and make you into something else.”
And with that they wheeled through the door. Into the strange hallway beyond. For once she enjoyed the low gravity. It helped her push the wheelchair. Made it easier on her weary limbs and fraught mind. All searching for a way to fix this. To solve everything. Maybe even, yes. Maybe even turn Mari back into her old self once again.
* * *
Not much further down the way and she had to move into the shadows between halls. Mari perched on her shoulder. Ortzi in her lap and humming between his teeth. There was a sound. Of others coming toward them. Moving toward them. They were in a doorway now. Circular. Rounding them perfectly. Between the shadows and the lamps. Hidden, hidden out of sight.
She shushed Ortzi and
he stopped humming right away. Don’t want to give away their hiding spot, no. Who knows what horrors were chasing them now ...
Something new? Something old? Something to tear them all apart? Or let them keep on going? No, no, no. Don’t think those thoughts. Those are panic thoughts. Horrid things those thoughts.
“Oh, La, I smell it, and it’s a horrible smell. Filled with horrible promises. Do you smell it, La? Do you smell it?”
A lumbering body. Leading forward. Chained to a smaller one. Minuscule. She knew who they were just by their outlines. A sharp pain in her side. They were hunting for her. She knew it. She wheeled a bit farther. Moved back into more shadows. Hiding and hidden and covered in a veil of darkness. Oh, how she longed for her betadur. That weapon of sparkling coils. She could light those two up and watch them burn and be on with her life. Hiding away and maybe escaping before the dolls found out.
* * *
“You know I can’t smell them, Basa. That’s partly why I have you, to help us hunt them down. Do you smell one with the mark? Is that what you’re telling me?”
The large slouching shadow stopped moving for a moment. It scratched its head. Tilted up toward the ceiling. Deep in thought. “Maybe it is, maybe. Do we have to, though? Do we have to do this, La? What is the purpose of all this anymore? Cover them in words. Take their heads. Fill with eggs. I just don’t even get it, what is my reason for living? For doing anything? Every time I think about it, I am confronted with absurdity. The profound absurdity of our very existence on this floating mazeling of a womb.”
Smaller shadow yanked on the chain and Basa fell to his knees. Looked up to the ceiling. Itsasu wanted to leave. To wheel herself into farther shadows and get lost in the labyrinth halls. But no, no. They would hear her wheel squeak. They would hear the shadows scurry from her fleeing body. So stay she must. Hold her breath. And then flee when fleeing makes the most sense.
“There is nothing to get,” stern words from La’s lips. “Don’t you understand that? There is nothing to get! We do what we do because that is what we do! What a fine time to have an existential crisis. You know we’re almost done with our great work, don’t you? Do you want to make all of this for naught? Just one more body to harvest and change. Just one more head to make our own. Can you do that for me, Basa? Can you sniff them out and do your job like a big boy bear? I don’t ask much from you. No. I don’t ask much from you at all. Just do as you’re told and everything will be fine and dandy and that’s that. What more do you need?”
The giant shadow pushed itself upright. It coughed and waved a spine in the air. A spine torn from the labyrinth halls. Bulbs of light flickered and covered him in a wash of amber colors. “I need meaning in my life, La. I need meaning. Is that too much to ask? To have not just existence itself, but to give it a purpose with weight to it? Something profound. Something worth each and every day. Just ... just give me something. Anything! Just something to grasp onto and give my existence weight. I feel so light, so burning light, like I could float up and away ...”
A scoff from that smaller shadow. “You are anything but light.”
“No, no. Don’t joke about such things. Not now, not when we have such important promises to keep.”
The scarred boy La walked up to Basa. Placed a hand on the crushed giant body. Just a single, gentle, hand. Basa’s head looked up and their eyes met. A gaze reflected between them. “I ... I need you to do this. Me. I am the meaning, I am the reason. Let me give you life, let me give you weight. Look at me, see me. Aren’t I real, aren’t I solid?”
Basa nodded. “Oh, yes, yes.” Two bear paws on the little boy’s face. A touch. Gentle as well as vicious. “You do give me weight, you are so solid. But you are small, La. You are so small.”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“Can you hold the weight for both of us? If you are so small?”
His boy head right up next to the bear’s ear. He whispered something and no, no. Can’t hear it from back here. His raspy tone drowns out the meaning of the words. Turned them into nonsense. Itsasu leaned down to Ortzi, whispered against the skull. “The ears I’ve given you, they can pick up anything, can’t they?”
A whisper response. So as not to be heard. “Yes, yes.”
“What did he say?”
A minute of processing. And then, Ortzi responded. “I am infinite on the inside. That’s what the boy said. I am infinite on the inside.”
“Oh,” she responded. “Oh.”
* * *
... and that was when Basa leaned up his head and said, “I think I understand now. The horrible things, yes, they are necessary things,” and his voice was wet with tears, “they’re over there. And they are ripe, La! I can smell it. The one who was in our chamber is ripe now, and marked and ready for our terrible promises.”
Such sadness in each syllable. She felt for him, but knew they had to move. What to do? How could they escape them? Not much farther to go, no. How could they lose such creatures as this? When she was bound to a chair and everything?
“I know, Basa. I know. Terrible, but necessary. Let’s get this over with and move on with the day.”
“And it was such a nice day, too. Beautiful, we watched thirteen suns float through and endless sea of night, rising and setting against the edges of our egia. The infinite labyrinth containing so much light.”
And that was when the anger welled up inside. Burning bright hot anger. The suns. They had seen suns while inside the labyrinth! Thirteen suns setting against the world. Why would they deserve such a sight? Why had she never seen it? All through her travels and everything?
That promise of the sun burned inside of her. She felt an anger and a fight to survive burning under her skin. Not now. Not yet. No weapons in their hands. No betadur to make them smile with pain and light up and scatter them like useless stars. So instead. Yes. Retreat now. Maybe. But where to? The wheels squeak. The body moves slowly.
Slowly. Slowly. Keeping them silent in their movements. She felt Ortzi fiddle in her lap. Trying not to make a sound. Yet his nerves. She could feel his angst and terror making his skull shake silently against her legs. Such useless damned legs. If only she could run now. Run and run and run and run through this damned maze.
Bear shadow sniffed the air. “Oh, La. I guess you are right. Better get this over with, and they are so ripe, too. I bet her insides are all nice and burning hot. A fever of light floating through her veins ... perfect for the plucking. For the changing. For the cure, oh, that cure. We are so close aren’t we?”
“We are,” La said, “So close indeed. Somehow these ones are different. Each version slightly off and broken from the originals. We need to fix that, find what’s broken and fix that and everything will be all right ... and we can change the world. We can get rid of the sakre entirely and change the world.”
What was he talking about? That made no sense at all. Each version? Slightly broken? Each version of what? What was he going on about? Itsasu found herself confronted with a million questions. What was going on here? What was going on?
Sniff. Sniff. Bear head close now. Close to hers.
She sat tight didn’t move didn’t dare move not even an inch no, no.
“I think.” The bear shuffled about. Looked a bit sheepish. “I think they’re gone, yes, they must be gone.”
And did he wink at her? He did. He winked at her. Ran his hands together. “I thought I smelled them over here, but I must be wrong. Oh, wait, that scent is over this way. Yes, over this way.”
La yanked on the chain a bit more. Yank. Yank. Bear shadow leaned down. “What is it La?”
“So. They went that way and you were wrong this whole time?”
“Oh, yes, La. Yes, yes, of course.”
“You’re not just saying this because you want to delay our duty, are you? The ritual has to be specific. The timing is of utmost importance, and you know this. You know it.”
“It is so horrible, though. It is.”
“I understand
,” shadow hands against bear face again, “but you’re not doing them any favors. You’re not doing us any favors either,” and La walked over to the hidden shadows. Where Itsasu sulked calm and unmoving. The others so silent. So still. Even Mari, bird Mari, so silent so still. “You sure they’re not here?”
“No,” Basa’s words stained with tears, “no, I was completely wrong. Let’s go this way, I smell a faint trail over this way and maybe we can catch them sooner than soon?”
“You know we’re going to be behind schedule now. There won’t be another Itsasu primed for transformation for at least another week or two ... you’re just delaying the inevitable...”
... what what what how did they know her name? And another Itsasu? What ... what ... what ...
“Oh, La, oh. Look at me, La. Look at me.” And this time Basa yanked on the chain, forced La to look at him. “I am not doing this because I am weak or scared or anything like that. I am doing this because it is right. The scent is this way, let’s go now. Let’s go.”
And then the Basa and La scurried off. Deep into the dark caverns and mazes. Gulped up the darkness and amber spine lights. A sigh then. Itsasu leaned back. Looked up. “You can light up now, Ortzi.”
“You sure it’s safe, oh love, oh dove, oh dearie love?”
She nodded and then wheeled off. Turned and went farther into these hiding shadows. Their bodies lit up all angelic with the amber glow of Ortzi’s skull. As they wheeled onward. Onward. Onward. Into the haunted dark beyond.
Act III: Mermaid Bones
Now they were in a curved cavern of lights. A grotto stretching out and around in a giant bowl. The way it was a circle. Above, below. She knew they could probably float through here when the gravity was low. But right now, right now. With the wheelchair and all. It was a bit of a struggle, that constant incline and decline. Spines dangled about covered in bulbs of light. Like countless strings of stars wrapped around them. A blanket of night.