by Tara Basi
“Damn you! What exactly is it you want? What are you going to do with it?”
“It must be a captured insight, something natural, genuine. A never-before-seen message from the Tramp. We’ll release it, anonymously, to a few top ultra-Broadcasters. The right message will soon go viral. At best, a third will believe, a third will have doubts and a third will call it a sham. Enough to destabilise the Church’s hold over the Pilgrims and, perhaps, prevent a war.”
“What if nothing works? What if I can’t do it?”
“We have confidence in you, Peter. You and Quattro are safe here. Patience, Peter.”
The Suit vanished, leaving Peter alone again with Bunny. Not that they were ever truly alone; Orb Industries was always watching. Peter didn’t trust the Suit. He and Quattro would probably die down here even if he did succeed. Orb Industries would never risk freeing him with what he knew.
“I have a suggestion regarding processing capacity.”
For a moment, Peter wondered if the Suit had returned. His eyes swept the lab, but they were alone. Bunny had spoken. It was the first time he could remember Bunny speaking about their work without being prompted. The only things that had animated Bunny were the mention of Mathew and the sight of Quattro in the body he’d given her.
More processing power could only help. “What’s your suggestion?”
Bunny moved as though it were on tracks, smoothly and without its shoulders changing height, towards a bench beside a full-length mirror that Peter hadn’t noticed before, which wasn’t surprising; the lab was enormous. Peter walked over to the bench and stared at the chip Bunny was indicating with a long, glassy finger. The machine must be failing. It wasn’t even pointing at a processing chip; the small, black cube on the bench was an obsolete storage device. He wasn’t sure he could explain exactly what happened next. In a blink, Bunny had lifted him by the shoulders and stepped through the mirror into a large windowless room littered with bits of equipment Peter didn’t immediately recognise.
“We can speak freely here,” Bunny said.
Chapter Sixteen – Zip and Creep
As funeral processions go, it was small and lonely. Curiosity was going to kill her. Only by dying would she trigger Zara’s suicide note that would, maybe, lead to answers. Now Zip sat alone in the train heading back into London from the Wall. In her kit bag was her executioner: an inert Creep wrapped in her armour. The extra shielding was probably unnecessary. For now, Creep was a dead lump of metal.
They’d passed through the wall without incident. The Quartermaster had decided to return to Sediment Town with Mathew. There they’d wait for Zip and Creep to return, hopefully with the location of Professor Simmons’ Record in the mysterious graveyard. But she wanted more than that from the letter to herself.
Outside the rattling train window, it was raining hard. Little drops crashed into her window and died. Zip didn’t like Creep. Not just because it was going to kill her; the thing was as creepy as its name implied. It was alien. Even inert, Zip shivered when she lifted it into her bag. It was surprisingly heavy. Worst of all were its shudder-inducing legs that flopped around like squid-ink-stained pasta. The little monster better bring her back, or … what?
The old wall train pulled into Archway, the end of the line. Zip grabbed her heavy bag and slung it over her shoulder. On the rain-soaked platform, a few Pilgrims were cautiously emerging from carriages further along, as though doubting the environment. There was no radiation and no old war machines looking for another kill. Despite the rain, the Pilgrims smiled and headed off in an animated group. The Orb was calling.
Zip’s magnetic bubble cape dispersed the rain as she headed for a lift that would take her and Creep back to her office. The lift and then the dark corridor were cold and empty. Her office was as she’d left it: a mess. She set down the bag and gingerly removed the horrible Creep and placed it on her desk on its back. From inside her coat, she extracted the machine’s power cell and reunited the pair.
Creep twitched, and before Zip could even squeak in surprise, it had climbed the wall of her office and was clinging to the ceiling. “It die now.”
Creep had even less capacity for small talk than Mathew.
“Not yet.”
“Now. Now. Delay unnecessary.”
“You’re sure you can intercept the note? It won’t go to Alice, right?”
“It memory faulty?”
Zip sighed and took Creep’s response as a yes. “OK. First, I must visit a friend and leave a message for Alice.”
“Why?”
“Is your memory faulty? You can’t guarantee I’ll come back. Alice and my grandchildren need to know what happened to me, just in case.”
“Mission secret. Danger to it and Creep.”
Zip stared at the frying pan with legs and wondered why she was bothering to argue with it. There were few people that could be trusted with her message that could safely contact her daughter. The only one that came to mind was Bella, Pip’s mother.
The last time they’d spoken, Bella had delivered an obscure message from the Church warning her not to help Peter. Zip had ignored that message and ended up in a mental asylum. She didn’t blame Bella. Pip’s mother reminded Zip so much of the mother she’d lost during the Money War. And the old woman hadn’t really understood the message. Bella thought she was helping, and if Zip had listened, maybe it would have helped. Back then, only days ago, most aspects of her old life were suppressed or forgotten; the missing week, when her body had died, ignored. Zip had forced herself to be content in her new skin and live a Pip life, with a little private detective work thrown in. That tenuous link to her old ways had dragged her down like an anchor.
Their usual meeting place was Zip’s empty VR sanctum, where Zip always used her holographic suit to become Zara. Wearing her old body upset her. The scars brought back murderous memories. For once, and maybe for the last time she’d ever see Bella, Zip would meet where Bella had always wanted her to go.
The lift took her to Level Twelve and Bella’s Orb Church, where she’d first spoken to Bremer. Naked Pilgrims were coming and going, silently, calmly, like foraging termites. More than usual; it was a Sunday. The focus of their activity was the great doors under the replica Orb, sitting atop the new senior administrator’s house and office. The doors were opening and shutting rhythmically, as if the replica Orb were breathing, blowing out one Pilgrim and sucking another in. The naked moved steadily, a slow shuffle, emotionless, wordless mannequins. The coming and the going passed by each other smoothly, steadily, silently, each Pilgrim travelling in their own private bubble of contemplation.
Zip found herself studying the old man walking just ahead of her. He was ancient, probably in his nineties. The skin sagged from his body as though it were intended for someone larger. His knees were twisted out and his bent stick legs made him look shorter and frailer than he probably was. A shadow line briefly passed down the man’s back: they were passing through the entrance of the Orb Church. A wide staircase covered in deep-blue carpeting led up to the Orb chamber. She shivered, steadied herself and remembered: this was for Bella.
With the rest of the Pilgrims, Zip headed up the stairs to the landing, a large open area with white walls and many openings and spiral staircases serving different balconies lining the inside of the Orb Church. Bella would be waiting for her on pew thirty-one. Zip spotted the right stairway and joined others heading in that direction.
After a long ascent, doors started to appear, marked with balcony numbers. Zip paid close attention. If she missed her exit, she’d end up having to go around again. The stairs were too narrow and blocked with climbing Pilgrims for her to retreat. When the door to balcony thirty-one appeared, Zip stepped off the spiral Pilgrim escalator and entered the church proper.
Pews circled the curving walls all the way down to the bottom of the bowl pit and up to the rafters, reminding her of an Elizabethan theatre. Every one of the hanging balconies was animated with the seated, the shuffli
ng looking for a place, or the steady stream of the departing heading towards the spiral stairs, winding back down to the exit. Zip took a step to one side, so others could pass her by, and surveyed the circle, looking for Pip’s mother. A waving hand caught her eye before she realised it was Bella, sitting almost directly opposite, across the open space on the other side of the circle. Zip made her way towards her friend. It was a steady pace; there was time to look around. The shuffling Pilgrims were moving slowly, their attention switching back and forth between the alter at the centre of the church and searching for a friend or a favourite seat.
If one Pilgrim ahead of her found a seat, another on their way out rose to fill the gap in the slow-moving line. Zip sighed; nothing about this encounter was going to be rushed. Creep would be rusting with anxiety. A happy thought.
Like a Russian doll, at the centre of the Orb Church was another model of the Orb, suspended on a single cable fixed to the ceiling. It was huge; Zip guessed at least twenty metres in diameter. The eyes of every Pilgrim were fixed on the Orb’s likeness the moment they found a seat.
As Zip drew closer, Bella smiled happily and waved her towards a seat she’d saved. Bella had insisted, “It’s been long enough. Time to see you as you are. You’re not her. I know she’s dead.”
As Zip drew close, Bella took her hand and sat her down. Of course, they didn’t speak: a Pilgrim taboo anywhere near a church or the Orb itself.
Bella stared at Zip and beamed, her old eyes twinkling as she absorbed Zip’s presence. She was obviously remembering Pip. After a moment, Bella squeezed Zip’s hand and turned her attention back to the suspended blue Orb at the centre of the church.
Zip returned to studying the Pilgrims around her while Bella finished her prayers. They might be silent, but they weren’t quiet. All sorts of sounds filled the church. Bare soles shuffled on wooden floorboards. Bare buttocks on hard benches rose and fell, wriggled and rocked, searching for comfort. There were coughs, sniffles, sneezes, teeth sucking and airs. Zip didn’t like any of it, not a little, not at all. She preferred her own lonely little VR sanctuary and her own lonely rules.
With a squeeze of her hand and a nod, Bella indicated it was time to leave. Zip took a last look around and doubted she’d ever visit an Orb Church again. The Pilgrim congregation seemed content. Did they know what was coming? Were they reconciled? Could they hear what the real Orb was saying?
Zip turned away and followed slowly after Bella, down the spiral stairs and out into the plaza to join a procession of departing Pilgrims, still silent of voice, sliding past the arriving faithful. After a short walk, they reached a lift. Only half a dozen Pilgrims were quietly waiting ahead of them.
Zip was startled by the noise that started up the moment they were inside and the lift doors closed. The Pilgrims had abruptly found their voice again, and there was so much to say. Bella gave her fellow Pilgrims a disapproving look and kept her silence. Zip followed Bella’s lead and just listened. The lively conversations that erupted all around her weren’t about the mysteries of the Orb, the Church or even the threat of war.
A large woman with a double chin and a neck like a gannet said to her equally rotund neighbour, “Joe’s put on weight.”
The rest of the chatter was equally inane.
“Didn’t Mary’s skin look dry?”
“Club Trash later would be great.”
“Do you like my hair?”
Zip wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed that they didn’t seem to know or care about the deadly struggle between Orb Industries and the Church or happy they were getting on with living their lives. Wasn’t that what Alice was doing? What Zip had been trying to do for the last two years? Good luck to them, Zip thought, and exited the lift with Bella, leaving the other Pilgrims behind.
They were in a narrow alley running between stacked containers. The lift had brought them to the cheap-deep. The path ahead was lifeless, apart from a single opening some way ahead, exhibiting signs of sporadic activity.
Bella sighed. “We used to be able to hold our tongues. Now they can’t wait to start jabbering.”
Zip could only nod in polite agreement. She wasn’t even sure what the silence protocol was these days. Zip believed a Pilgrim’s life was about whatever seemed right to the individual. The Revelation wasn’t proscriptive. Zip appeared to be alone in that interpretation. The congregation, guided by the Church and its CEO, shaped the protocols. The Tramp had nothing to say about it.
“Where are we going, Bella?”
“There, it’s not far,” Bella said, pointing down the narrow lane between the towering stacks of containers at a spot where Zip had seen people entering and leaving.
“We should get dressed,” Bella added, as a lovely blue kaftan magically embraced her body, a big floppy straw hat appeared on her head, and a large purse fell into her hand.
Zip was surprised. “Bella, I didn’t know you did holographic?”
“This is real. The naked was holographic. I’m getting too old to go real naked. I look horrible. It’s very upsetting.”
Zip was a little taken aback. Was that even allowed – holographic naked? And then she immediately slapped herself down; she’d turned her suit transparent. Was that really naked? The Revelation was about what was right for Bella. Is that how it had all started to unravel? The little differences? Zip uncloaked her tail and conjured up a simple, dark-blue trouser suit. How could naked be so complicated? Such a simple matter and yet they managed it.
“You look very pretty. You really don’t have to hide your tail. Pip never did. We got a few looks, but she was so beautiful nobody could be mean to Pip for long. Sorry, dear, I’m rambling.”
Zip smiled at the old woman; she was very sweet. “You’re very kind, Bella.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to accept this,” Bella said, cupping Zip’s face in her hands.
Zip smiled and wondered how she would cope if there were a stranger in one of her granddaughter’s bodies.
Bella looked down and shook her head. “It was just … so sudden. She’d never been ill, nothing in the family. And she was getting mixed up in politics, protests. Never mind, it doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past.”
Zip’s forehead tightened. “I’ve never heard this before, Bella.”
Bella’s eyes were moist. “Please, let’s not spoil today.”
Zip nodded. Another time, if she survived Creep.
A little further along, Bella stopped and pulled Zip to one side of the narrow thoroughfare. “It’s just there, the next door. Before we go in, I have a little something for you.” From her handbag, she pulled out a neatly wrapped package and handed it to Zip. “It was one of Pip’s favourites. I know you wouldn’t take any of her things, after the procedure, but I’d like you to have this. Maybe you could change when we get inside?”
Zip was surprised by the unexpected gift. Bella probably wanted to see Zip fully become her daughter again, even if it was only for a little while. “Of course, can’t wait.”
Bella led her through a door and into a real, small café. There were a half dozen tables and a couple of couches. Unexpectedly, most were occupied and, even more surprising, people were reading books, old books. One wall was lined with volumes. A large man with his back to them was standing behind a small counter, laden with pastries, tending to a complicated machine that hissed and spluttered. It was a café, just like Alice’s café, yet it couldn’t be more different. The lighting was uneven, the floor and walls were scuffed. Dinged and rusty, once-white, metal chairs and tables perched unsteadily on the uneven floor. The couches looked lumpen and uncomfortable. A smell of bitter coffee filled the space, reminding her of cigarette smoke. Hanging over the counter was a big sign, a naked figure inside a red circle with a diagonal red line cutting across it from shoulder to knee. So that’s why Bella had dressed.
Bella waved Zip towards the toilet. She was puzzled for a moment then remembered the present. Zip smiled and headed off to change.
Inside the flowery paper wrapping was a beautiful, red summer dress, matching lingerie, pumps and a beret. It was a wonderful outfit, top drawer Italian. Zip happily disabled the holographic outfit that artificially covered her and changed. She stepped out into the café and gave Bella a twirl. The old woman clapped her hands to her cheeks and smiled broadly. Bella was struggling to hold back her emotions. Her big brown eyes glistened with threatening tears. Pip’s mother wiped her eyes and took Zip’s arm. Together they approached the counter and waited for the big man to finish whatever it was he was still doing. Eventually, he turned around and Zip immediately recognised the gear-glasses: it was Dorothy aka Bremer.
“Senior Administrator,” Zip blurted out.
“Mr Bremer now. Looking as lovely as ever I see. You almost make me miss the whole naked thing.”
“What about me?” Bella said, looking comically cross.
“And you too, of course, my dear Bella.”
Bella smiled. Zip was confused. “Do you two know each other?”
Bella’s smile melted away. “It was Mr Bremer who brought me the warning from the office of the CEO, about Peter.”
Bremer shook his head ruefully. “I’ve got nothing to do with the Church anymore. And I’m very sorry about the whole hospital thing. Coffee?”
Zip smiled. “Sure.”
Bella and Zip took a seat at one of the old garden-furniture tables while Bremer made strange hissing and grinding noises.
“I hope you don’t mind coming here, meeting Bremer. I thought you might be able to find out more about this Peter fellow. I’m worried about you.”
“Not at all. No, it was a good idea.” Gently, Zip took Bella’s hand. “There’s something I’d like to ask you, Bella, before Bremer comes over.”
A shadow passed across Bella’s face. “Of course, dear.”
Keeping hold of Bella’s hand, Zip said, “I’d like to give you a note, for Alice.”
Bella studied Zip’s face. “Wouldn’t it be better coming from you?”