by Ethan Cooper
JACK grabs my arm, and it doesn’t take but a nanosecond to realize that there’s nothing I can do if she wants to stop me, to take me out of the alley. She’s that strong.
“He won’t hurt me,” I say, and a great part of me actually believes that.
“I won’t hurt her,” Calamity Carl says, rapidly nodding his head.
JACK’s eyes are swirling storms. Her body is quivering. “I don’t want to lose you like this.”
“He won’t hurt me.”
Her fingers release me, like a trap being sprung.
I move quickly, striding right up to him.
That. Was a mistake.
His hands are on my shoulders, then at my neck, his fingers around the back of my neck, his thumbs in front of my ears. My hood is back, off my head, and when I stare into those red-tinted domes he has over his eyes, it’s through streaks of blue.
I didn’t even see him move. It’s like his arms teleported.
“Don’t move, witch, or I’ll break her neck,” Calamity Carl says.
“I’m okay, JACK,” I whisper. Maybe she can get away if she doesn’t try to do anything stupidly heroic.
“Listen to your only friend, witch, and Blue Beauty here will live to give you some more hugs, or whatever it is that you younglings do when you need to some comfort.”
I’d like to say that my brain was taking in a lot of extra information from being so close to him—memorizing every minute detail of the surface of his armor, breathing in the scent of his body, noting the shape and quantity of his spikes and blades—but the only thing I’m doing is waiting for the final blow and hoping that it won’t hurt much when it does.
“Never get this close to a stranger, little one,” Calamity Carl says. “You get this close to a bad guy and you’re dead.”
“Please let me go.”
He shakes his head, his crown listing dangerously to one side. “No, it’s time for your five secrets. I want to be touching you when I tell you each of them.”
I’m not going to respond to that other than to stare directly into those red domes with every amount of ire I can summon.
“You have a blue spark inside you,” he says. “Feed it, and it will grow to consume you. Let it die, and you will die.”
I’d swear at him some more, but it doesn’t seem to be doing any good, so I’ll just keep my mouth shut.
“The second secret is that there are more eoas. They will come for you. You have only a little time left before they do. Your third secret is that the wirewitch is more dangerous than you could ever imagine. If you stay with her, she will hurt you. Wirewitches are a plague. An infection. She’ll infect you and those around you. She will corrupt you and everything that you are.”
“Fuck that! What are you talking about? Why would you say that? You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”
Calamity Carl turns his head so he’s facing away from me, then goes completely still. “You…don’t…believe me?”
I’m not answering that.
He’s still not looking at me. Just how upset is he?
“I’m very disappointed in you, Blue. I’m trying to help you, and you’re behaving like a child. You know what, I don’t think I’m going to tell you your last two secrets. Yes, you’ll have to earn them.”
“I’m not going to do anything to earn anything.”
“Yes, you will. It’s settled then. I’ll be watching you, and when you’ve earned your way back into my favor, I’ll be back to tell you your next secret.” His head swivels, so I’m face to face with him once again. He inclines his forehead toward mine.
“You’re not goi—”
bzzzzzZZZZt!!!!!
Mind explodes with the static.
A sound like the high-pitched buzz of a small insect surrounds us. Air shimmers, an energy field bursting into existence.
I blink.
The world seems to collapse in on itself. There’s the muffled sound of an explosion, then a burst of cold and a wave of heat.
bzzzzzZZZZt!!!!!
On my knees, on the ground, sucking air into my lungs.
Calamity Carl is gone.
20/Serpentblood
2195.12.11/Night
Gone.
He’s gone.
Vanished right in front of me. Ouch, that hurt. Fuck, did he teleport? Didn’t know that was even possible. But again, ouch. Feels like the air in my lungs was sucked out when he went away.
JACK’s over me. My eyes are watering, but I can see well enough to watch her scan the alley around us for Calamity Carl.
“Glitch that techtrash,” JACK says. “Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head, not ready to try talking.
“I figured he might have some implants—a photon redirector or something—but that was something else. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“He teleported, didn’t he?” I ask, and the sound that comes out is impressively hideous, as if I’d just swallowed a tall glass of molten razor blades before speaking. I push to my feet, happy that I don’t feel dizzy.
“No. Nobody can do that. I mean, it’s not like people haven’t tried. In all my time connected to Cyberspace, you would think I’d have heard if any of them had been successful. Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine. Wait, do I look like he hurt me?” Now I’m concerned. I don’t like the way her eyes are twin, swirling blurs. She’s looking up at me like I’m also about to teleport away. I grab both her hands, which are trembling.
JACK steps into me, her arms snaking around my waist. “No, you look fine. You’re just as pretty as you were before.”
“Oh good, because that’s what I was concerned about.” I wait to see if she has any reaction, but she’s accepting my response like sarcasm isn’t a real thing. Wonderful. I let out a long breath. “I guess we won’t be asking Calamity Carl any more questions today.”
“Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t find him if we tried.” She pulls away, pacing in front of me, her gaze directed toward the alley’s exit. She stops and turns over her shoulder. I know that look. Don’t like that look.
“You’re angry,” I say.
“This was stupid and dangerous. You should’ve listened to me.”
“I did listen. There’s a difference between listening and obeying.”
“Then you should have obeyed. He could have killed you.”
“I know, but he didn’t. But what else could we do? We had to know what he knew.”
“You mean we had to know what he wanted to tell us. Which, as it turns out, wasn’t much.”
When it comes down to it, she’s right. It was a risk, and we have nothing to show for it.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I couldn’t have stopped him if he’d wanted to hurt you. Not when he was that close. You have to stay near me so I can do what I promised. Tell me you won’t do that again.”
“I promise. I’ll stay closer.”
JACK double-checks my backpack to make sure that Calamity Carl didn’t take something from it, then she makes me take off my cloak so she can inspect my entire body. She moves swiftly, her eyes performing her full-body scan while her fingertips make soft touches all over my skinsuit.
“All clear?” I ask when she’s done, for some reason not wanting to find out what exactly she was looking for.
“Everything’s intact. He didn’t steal anything, and if he put something on you to track you, it’s beyond my ability to see it.”
“Your eyesight is that good?”
“You have no idea.”
Taking a food packet from my backpack, I suck down its bland contents. Raising my hood back into place and taking JACK’s hand, we work our way back into the maelstrom.
BLINK.
Twin androids beckoning us toward a structure fronted by a great archway. Inside, the pounding of metal on metal. The ground shakes and the growl that comes from the beast within is the buzz of a million flitterwasps against the backdrop of an avalanc
he.
BLINK.
“I think we’re done with this place,” JACK says. “We should leave.”
“But there’s so much more. We’ve barely seen a fraction of what there is.”
“We met Calamity Carl. For me, right now, that’s enough. As long as they keep the power on, we can come back later. Let’s find a Haven.”
There’s a sudden weariness in her eyes that cuts through any objections I might have. She’s a technological monstrosity, an apocalyptically disastrous collision of humanity and biotech, unquestionably one of the most lethal creatures on the planet, but in this moment, when I look at her, all I can see is a frightened thirteen-year-old girl who needs a hug.
She’s also my only friend. I have to hold tight onto that.
“You’re right,” I say. “We’re probably not done here, but I agree, let’s not push it right now. Do you know where the nearest Haven is?”
JACK shakes her head.
“Aren’t they always hidden?”
“No, not always, but many of them are. Some of the Guardians believe that they’d be overwhelmed if they marked and advertised their location. With Cyberspace down, I’m not sure what the situation is, but I’m sure they’re being overrun. We’re still going to try so you don’t have to sleep on the ground.”
I don’t remember ever staying at one, but knowledge of the Havens is still up there in my brain. Safe shelter from the world, open to all. An altruistic anomaly to be sure. I can’t help but wonder if their friendliness extends to wirewitches. My first encounter with wirewitches started out with a witchkiss and the death of four-fifths of the coven. For all I know the only reason JACK hasn’t tried to infect me is because she knows that it wouldn’t work. When you’re a wirewitch, I’m sure it’s cosmic to have a friend, but just think of how much more cosmic it would be if that friend was also a wirewitch?
“How are we supposed to find one?” I ask.
“I know what to look for,” JACK replies, but doesn’t follow that up with further explanation.
I let the subject drop. We make our way toward the edge of the circus.
BLINK.
Three men with bald heads, pristine white trench coats, and yellow wraparound visors standing shoulder to shoulder, watch the crowd pass by. Brilliant white teeth and a trio of smiles. Each lock eyes with me in turn.
BLINK.
“Syl, about what Calamity Carl said back there. I’m…not dangerous to you. I’d never hurt you.”
Not having convinced myself that her assertion is true, I just nod. I’m afraid I’ll reveal my doubts if I speak right now.
“I’m serious,” JACK says. “I need you to believe me.”
“I believe you,” I manage to summon, but it feels like it’s mostly a lie. At least 90% a lie.
Her hand squeezes mine.
BLINK.
Pale green glow tubes, lighting a gigantic stage set right across the walkway. A wide backdrop spanning the width of the stage depicts a headless, mechanized snake. Green liquid gushes from the wound. On the stage, to a monotonous beat, two painted figures dance.
BLINK.
“Serpentblood,” JACK says, leaning close to yell into my ear.
I stop, confused. “What is that?” I yell back.
“The band on stage. They’re called Serpentblood.”
Wandering numb through the circus, I was seeing but not really seeing. We’re stopped in the middle of the walkway, a crowd of several hundred people between us and the stage. The music is loud, infused with low frequencies that vibrate in my chest cavity. At times, shockwaves assault my skin from a hammering bass beat mixed with explosions. On stage, the two performers leap around, slamming severed robotic limbs against the stage surface. The crowd is mesmerized, not exactly dancing, but swaying as the song and light barrage take them.
“Do you like this?” I ask JACK.
The song is so loud, I didn’t even hear my own words.
She nods vigorously, and the smile on her face is priceless. “Yes! I find their rhythms very soothing. When Cyberspace was online, I would tap into live data streams of their performances. The rest of the coven did not enjoy them like I did.”
“Have you ever seen them in person?”
(person is that)
(what she is?)
JACK shakes her head.
“Let’s get closer then, if we can. We shouldn’t pass up this opportunity.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“I do.”
It’s easier than I expected to push through the crowd. The music is all-consuming. It’s like swimming through water to push closer to the source of all that sound. Covering my ears with my hands takes the aural attack to a more manageable level, enough so that I can think and lead JACK through the throng. With my fingers muffling the harshest of the frequencies, I can actually discern different layers in the music. There’s no melody; it’s all beat. But there’s something about it that latches onto me. All of the sudden, I don’t feel like talking. Don’t feel like walking, so I stop and just listen.
BOOM. THUMP. BOOM. THUMP.
The cycle starts over—muffled, unending detonations—a repetition that seems as natural as lungs taking in oxygen or a heart pumping blood. Strangely, I can hear my own heartbeat in amongst the wall of noise and violence. It’s out of sync with the song at first, but after a few moments, my heartbeat has lined up with the coordinated banging of the performers. Every time one of those robotic limbs slams down into the stage, my heart pulses.
BOOM. THUMP. BOOM. THUMP.
I’m surrounded by the enraptured crowd, their faces slack, many of them with their eyes closed. They sway as if they’re being suspended by strings.
Empty. They look so empty. Like prisoners.
I feel it too, the sense of serenity—that moment just before you fall asleep—that brief time when everything’s fine and there’s hope that when you wake up the world won’t be the fucked-up hellhole that it is.
The music has them.
It has me too.
And oh, it also has JACK.
I’m turning around to see her bare blue skin sparkling in the glow of the stage lights. JACK, my only friend—the one who probably couldn’t stop herself from witchkissing me if I wasn’t immune—has discarded her cloak and is writhing to the beat, her naked hairstalks undulating and on display for all manners of person and beast to see.
21/Molested
2195.12.11/Night
Calmness leaves me, swirling away like water down a drain. As if on cue, the music shifts tempos and intensity, the crowd shifting with it, everything in explosive motion now. They’re not swaying any longer, but aggressively dancing in wide jerking movements. JACK is only a meter or two behind me, but I’m quickly cut off from her, unable to worm my way through easily.
Everybody I see has their attention fixed on the stage, but that could change at any time. If somebody notices the wirewitch gyrating in their midst, we could be in trouble.
I duck, dodging waving hands, throwing an elbow of my own right into the ribs of somebody flailing like they’re having a seizure. Don’t even know if they’re male or female, but they grunt and recoil. I step past, ducking my head and going shoulder to shoulder with some girl about my size and weight. I don’t hit her hard enough to hurt her, but she goes off-balance, stumbling sideways. She doesn’t stop dancing, never stops staring at the stage, completely oblivious to my assault.
I grab JACK’s arm and squeeze as hard as I can, jerking her forward until I’ve planted my body deep within her personal space and we’re face to face. The fluid that normally swirls in her eyes is completely still. Her head gently bobs in time with the music.
“JACK!” I scream into her face, shaking her as violently as I can.
It’s an amazing thing to see her eyes begin to flow again. Currents begin to appear in the mysterious, technosite-rich substance that fills her eyeballs. Countless blue hues forming streaks and eddies that signal her freedom from Ser
pentblood’s hypnosis.
“Syl, what is it?” JACK asks calmly. I don’t actually hear her because the music’s so loud, but I’m fairly confident that’s what she said.
“What the hell are you doing? You’re completely exposed!”
JACK looks around, then down at her skinsuit-clad body. “Glitch!” She retrieves her cloak from the ground and slips back into it, hooding her face, stepping up against me. “I’m so sorry.” She’s shivering.
“That’s all right, I—”
“It’s just the music. I don’t know what happened to me. I got so caught up in it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I think we’re fine. We’re still alive, aren’t we?”
“That’s never happened to me before—losing control like that. It…it must be because…”
“It doesn’t look like anybody noticed,” I say when it’s evident she doesn’t have an answer. Everybody around us is dancing, eyes still transfixed on whatever’s happening up on the stage. There’s no evidence that even one person saw JACK. At the very least, if they noticed, they were too caught up in the music to care. “Still, since we don’t know what caused it, I’d feel better if we left.”
“There’s something in their music,” JACK says, her arm around my waist as we walk side by side. “It’s different when it’s not just a recording.”
“Whatever they’re doing, it’s still happening. I can still feel it.” It’s trying to get me to turn around and watch the stage.
(do it turn around and look)
It takes just about every ounce of will I have to keep my eyes forward and my feet moving. JACK’s whole body is tense, her fingers digging into my side. If she squeezes any harder, she’s going to either draw blood or break one of my ribs. I put my hand over hers. Hopefully that will keep her from doing anything that would cause me to start venting my precious bodily fluids. They are mine. They need to remain inside me.
When we finally break free through the edge of the crowd, JACK relaxes her grip on me, her shoulders sagging in relief, her head shaking back and forth. She leans forward, her hands on her knees. “I take it back, Syl. They’re not soothing. We have to get farther away.” She pauses. “I’m tired. That’s strange. What about you?”