Nica of Los Angeles Read online
Page 18
We sailed east, toward the Connector that would return us to the killing field. The Cysts and Entourage disappeared down a slope to the west.
I wasn't sure how long I'd been holding my breath. "How far away can they read minds?"
"Not so far as this."
"They frightened me," I realized, with surprise. I don't scare easily.
"Me too," Hernandez said.
"You see them as they are," Anwyl said.
23. For All The Dead, Vanished So Easily
"You did well," Anwyl smiled at us. Hernandez gave a nod like a salute and went aft to mess with the sail.
At last I felt safe to acknowledge what I had needed to forget throughout the encounter with the Cysts. There were folks hidden on this boat and they needed our help. In the storage area at the bow of the boat, I spotted two Gumby people curled around coils of rope. I kept my eyes on the horizon as I joined Hernandez on the deck above them.
"Friends, remain hidden but let us talk," Anwyl greeted them.
They uncurled from their coils of rope and flattened themselves into accordion pleats to sit in the confined space.
Their names sounded like Zasu and Ziti and they had survived so far thanks to their love and indecision. Whether to relocate for a year, or leave their Frame forever, was a difficult decision for Zasu and Ziti. They were sworn to be married as soon as they came of age next year - and they were long inseparable - so their families allowed them to make the decision as a couple. The lovebirds would miss loved ones whichever way they went. His family opted to take the deal and sell their land, for a great profit and a year of isolation. Her family chose to leave Halcyon in search of a new Frame, as yet unknown to them. His family was warm and inclusive, so maybe they should move west; but her family was spirited and adventurous, so maybe they should move east.
They flip-flopped until the day of relocation. They were the last to enter the western Connector, and were almost through it, en route to the isolated westernmost Frame, when they changed their minds and retreated. They exited the Connector to encounter armed guards, who tried to herd them back inside. Zasu persuaded the guards they were returning home briefly because they forgot something and would be right back. They pretended to head home, then ran through fields and hills to the eastern Connector. They seemed to be alone in their Frame and whispered in the uneasy silence. Nothing they knew about the redevelopment explained the presence of armed guards, whose appearance confirmed their intangible suspicions about the offer and the project.
They hurried through the eastern Connector to catch up with their neighbors who had already passed through the Connector, but something made them stop, mid-tunnel. Perhaps it was a faint high sound that might have been a scream; or maybe it was an unpleasant, unfamiliar smell. They crawled to the far end of the Connector, peeked out, and saw the attack of the books in progress. Someone, gravely injured, crawled their way, but brushed against a glossy magazine, which exploded in a rain of blood.
Zasu and Ziti crept back to their home Frame, and from the hills, watched armed guards, technicians, and the three friendly fellows who had organized the land purchase. All congregated around the western Connector. Two guards tiptoed into the Connector, steering a cart stacked with magazines; after a time, they returned with an empty cart. A technician dragged another, heavy cart up to the Connector. On it was a machine with a thick tube. Technicians shoved the tube into the Connector, then covered the opening of the Connector with a thin cloth that glinted like metal. A technician at the machine did something with his hands and the Connector erupted with green flames, yellow smoke, and orange lightning. The observers applauded then stood chatting, watching a clock. After a time, the technicians donned protective clothing and removed remnants of everything they had placed in the Connector.
Zasu and Ziti had been hiding since then. Come nightfall, they planned to return to the hub through the eastern Connector, in hopes that the books would be gone and they could flee to an unknown Frame.
Our boat sailed over gentle swells. The sun warmed our skin and the breeze kissed us cool. We were in heaven, trying to understand hell. By the time the sky took on the first pastel blush of sunset, we thought we had why figured out. As we talked, sometimes Anwyl paused for an extended silence, from which he would return with fresh perspective. I believe he was in contact with Monk and Miles at those times.
This Frame was important to the Cysts' effort to free Maelstrom and so they tricked the inhabitants into leaving, then attempted to kill all who had witnessed the Cysts' interest in this Frame. They couldn't force everyone to relocate - that might have raised suspicion in other Frames - so those who declined to relocate were "allowed" to emigrate - then eliminated in an ambush of books.
"Is it possible that the western Connector was destroyed, but not those in the Frame behind it?" Ziti tried to hide the yearning in this hope.
"It is possible but unlikely," Anwyl's voice was kindly but the words still cut.
"This I knew," Ziti said, with insight beyond his years. "Sometimes we must voice our hopes to hear their emptiness."
"Are we the last of our kind?" Zasu whispered a sob.
"A few others survived the book attack," Hernandez said. "And hundreds escaped as it began."
"We will help you to unite with them," I assured.
"You are in terrible danger," Anwyl warned. "They want no witnesses. We will help you to leave here and then we will need your aid in exchange. Will you tell your tale to the Framekeeps?"
"Assuredly, if that will bring justice."
"We must get you to safety and we must not tarry longer. When we come ashore, we will run to the Connector," Anwyl instructed.
"If the Cysts return and see us running, won't they wonder why?"
"If Warty Sebaceous Cysts return, run faster. You must maintain distance from them."
At Anwyl's request, Ziti and Zasu folded themselves to the size of smartphones and Anwyl pocketed them in his tunic. The sunset blush deepened and the sky made a realist of Maxfield Parrish. We continued to reflect on danger, murder, and evil until Hernandez spit, "Here it comes."
The boat beached with a spray of sand. Anwyl and Hernandez threw us over the side and I hit the ground running on all fours.
It was a hundred meter dash with a marathon's worth of exposure. My nerve endings jangled, anticipating interruption by the Cysts. Yet I heard no distant shouts, nor footfalls besides our own, as we scrabbled up the dunes and through the fields to the Connector.
I thought that we'd stayed lucky, with no sign of the Cysts, until I cast a glance back to the village. The Cysts lounged at the outermost building. One watched us with binoculars, one shaded eyes to view us against the setting sun, and one gave a friendly wave and moved his mouth. The high-pitched mosquito whine reached my ears before the words did. "Farewell, for the moment!"
They showed no concern about our getting away, which made me feel that we hadn't. It would have been less scary if they had run to catch us.
The Connector was no longer flooded and the path was damp but clear. As we descended toward the killing field, I remembered how quickly the water had risen before, but Anwyl seemed unconcerned about floods. He stopped to extract Zasu and Ziti from his pockets and we waited while they unfolded and bounced a few times to limber up. When we resumed walking, they held hands.
We emerged from the Connector without incident. Miles was on the pier, talking with the merry-go-round; Monk waded in the ocean beside the pier.
"The ocean can't hurt Monk?"
"It could," Anwyl said.
Miles saw Ziti and Zasu, then tilted over the pier railing to say to the ocean, "More farmers? That's who you needed us to see?" He listened a moment, then concluded, "Okay, catch you later." The Towers headed toward shore to intersect with our path.
"Now we're friends with the ocean?" I'm not sure why this pissed me off. Guess I had exceeded my daily limit of I don't get it.
"This ocean is neither friend nor foe, but can be
an ally," Monk said.
"But you warned us to keep away from it."
Anwyl took over the explanation. "That caution still holds. This ocean protects the integrity of the Frames, but it is not bound to protect beings, and may not delay to determine whether an individual being poses a risk before it eliminates a problem."
"Shoot first, hide the body before somebody asks questions," Hernandez said.
"That makes -" I began. Anwyl raised a hand and I clammed obediently. For now.
We climbed onto the Towers. While Anwyl, Monk, and Miles discussed our encounter with the Cysts, Hernandez and I gawked at how Ziti and Zasu climbed. They stretched their arms quadruple their normal length, then wrapped their forearms around a girder, then contracted their arms to draw themselves up. As they resized, their skin rippled smoothed rippled.
As we neared the killing field, I suggested to our rescues, "I'm going to shut my eyes when we move through here." Zasu and Ziti nodded and did the same.
The rolling motion of the Towers was soothing, despite everything, and I extinguished all thoughts for a time. Gradually, I noticed that the air was different now. When we were here before, it smelled like an illegal stockyard. Now it smelled as fresh as the beach at dawn. Hernandez murmured, "The bodies are gone."
Our three pairs of eyes popped open. The streets were wet and empty, as though the ocean had recently washed through. There was no sign of carnage. Hernandez and I turned to look at the ocean, which glinted, glassy and immobile. For the remainder of our journey across the killing field, tears flowed from four sets of eyes, for all the dead, vanished so easily.
We got back to the Henrietta in the middle of a night and it turns out that we had been gone more than 24 hours. Holy frigging petunias. In the Frame where we started our return, my hall was an exterior feature at the top of the Henrietta, as was also true in Miles and Monk's Frame. "Why is my floor- the ninth floor - at the top of the building in other Frames but not in my Frame? Where did the tenth floor and the roof go?"
"The important question is, how came those additions to your Frame?" Monk said.
"And why don't they show up in other Frames?" Miles added.
"In your Frame, Henrietta has been altered. Who wanted the alteration and who made the changes? Those are answers we seek from you, Nica." Anwyl went on to explain that the top of the Henrietta had been altered against her knowledge and will. The alterations exist in my Frame and are absent from many other Frames. Henrietta had not detected the additions until Jay and I made all those trips to the roof garden. She was often not aware of remodeling done in Neutral Frames, when a human contractor did the work. Until now, Neutral remodeling has been trivial. But these rooftop additions allow access to enemies, a danger that compromises the safety that Henrietta otherwise guarantees. Presumably, Neutral workers from my Frame had performed the remodeling, oblivious to its real purpose. As the detective, it was now up to me to detect who did the work and who ordered it.
Somewhere under my exhaustion, I was jazzed. This was my first assignment from Anwyl that felt truly sleuth-like. I would get right on it! After we got our rescues safe - and, okay, I might need to catch up on some of the sleep I had missed these last couple days.
I was the last one on the Towers and as I gave Miles a farewell hug, everything went dim. The breeze stilled and a fleecy cloud parked overhead, blocking the moon. The air became charged and expectant as it does before a thunderstorm, as it did outside the Largo when another cloud brought a message from Anya. Everyone looked up and when Anya's voice enveloped us, I wimped it and started to cry; I wasn't sure why. Certainly, our recent adventures had left me fragile. Also, I was happy to hear her voice, but worried - now that I had a better sense of the dangers she faced, I wanted her back here, pronto. Or, perhaps I anticipated the content of her message, which would have such profound repercussions.
"Haste and Miles. We need both." Before I could process these words, the wind picked up and carried the cloud away.
Haste and Miles. "Shit on a stick," Miles said, and his girders went so cold, I scrambled off in fear that my skin would stick to him.
"I'm sorry, brother," Monk said.
"Sorry? Don't you mean 'get off your bitch ass and take action'? That's how you said it before."
"Your fear is real but the danger may not be," Anwyl interjected.
Suddenly, I understood. At an earlier meeting, Anwyl, Monk, and others had pushed Miles to go to a lawless Frame where he was well-known. He refused, because it had become too dangerous for him to visit there. In the previous discussion, all except Anwyl acknowledged the danger and backed off, so Miles didn't go. Then. Now, Anya's message made clear that Miles had to go.
Miles and Monk seemed invincible; any dangers that made Miles fearful and Monk reluctant were threats too enormous to imagine. I tugged at a straw. "Is there another interpretation of Anya's message? Maybe 'miles' means distance?"
Haste and miles. We need both. Monk and Miles repeated the message a few times, toyed with reinterpretations. Anwyl feigned patience and let them work it through to the only conclusion. Haste and miles. We need both could mean -
We must hurry and go far.
The answer is far away.
We need to put distance between our foes and us - quickly.
Miles moves slower than Monk which makes Monk 'haste' and Miles, 'miles'.
They chuckled at that. Or tried to.
"It would appear that I am outta here," Miles rapped.
"I would go in your stead," Monk said.
"Tell me what I don't know," Miles replied. "None of you can go. I'm the one has the ghost chance of success."
"Anya wouldn't ask you if it was impossibly dangerous -" I tried to Pollyanna it.
"She would sacrifice any of us for the free Frames, as is right."
"Maybe there's another way, if we think it through. What is so important about going to that Frame?"
"It may hold the key to understanding Maelstrom's escape. We know an escape attempt will come soon. We do not know how the effort will transpire. In that Frame, Miles may learn the how."
Miles told Anwyl, "I can't send a cloud from there, that would put my ass in a blender so I can't report back until I am back. You won't hear from me for a while."
"Can you leave now?" Anwyl responded with his customary empathy.
"Here I go," Miles said. Static electricity built fast and thick around me. Miles ruffled my hair overlong in this goodbye. Shit. What would I do without Miles? I couldn't learn how to flirt with machines. I could no longer be baffled by a jumble of mis-matched slang.
When the future terrifies me, I have no choice; I have to joke about it.
"We will see you as soon as we are meant to," Monk intoned.
"Make destiny your bitch," Hernandez said.
"Miles," was all I managed before he translated out of Frame.
24. They Won't Know To Look For Her Here
We sat around my office, eating fruit and crackers from my file cabinet. Our guests had never encountered processed food and the crackers dazzled them. Zasu broke the crackers into smaller and smaller pieces, searching for the constituents. Ziti set a cracker on his tongue and called out ingredients. He identified most of them and Zasu got the rest. My crackers were health nut thingies so all the ingredients could be known to a farmer. To stump them, I dug Cheetos from Ben's boxes in my closet. Cheetos on their tongues made them gag and retch like the food testers of an unpopular king. My apologies turned into a soliloquy about American eating and the Twinkie defense. Hernandez was the first to laugh at me, but the other three soon followed. I would have preferred with to at, but - no matter - it was good to hear laughter. Hernandez gave a brief but turbo-charged belly laugh, Zasu and Ziti tittered like silver bells in a breeze, and Anwyl growled contentedly.
Our noise made me wonder how soon the Cysts would come looking for these witnesses. Anwyl addressed this indirectly when he instructed us to move Zasu and Ziti immediately, and to hide them so
mewhere I had never been with Anya or Anwyl. What chilled me was his insistence that they could not be hidden together.
"You will remain hidden in this Frame for one sunrise," he explained to them. "We will then create a distraction and move you to a safe Frame. There you will stay until you give witness to the Framekeeps."
"We wish to wait together in this Frame."
Anwyl bared his teeth. "Would that I thought it safe for you to do so."
"Will there be books where we are going?" Ziti asked, failing to hide his fear.
I started bawling. Their reactions were fear, surprise, annoyance, and sympathy. I'll let you decide which was whose. "I'm sorry," I blubbered, then got a grip. "I can't believe that books are evil in other Frames."
"They were not always so," Anwyl said. "Perhaps you may help to restore their character."
If this was pandering to stop the tears, it worked. I felt better to know this. "Who ruined them? Maelstrom?"
"It was his mentor Pandemonium who conscripted the souls of books, but that is a tale for another day. There are no books where you are going," he assured Ziti and Zasu.
"Will we Travel far from here?" Zasu had already had her fill of Traveling.
"You cannot Travel far. You have no experience with Frame Travel, thus it will render you weak and ill."
"Hernandez, you feel any bad effects from Frame Travel?" I asked.
He shrugged, "To me it feels like a mild case of the bends."
"Yeah, same here." I tried to copy his shrug. He has a great fuck you all of a shrug that I need to add to my shrug repertoire.
"Travel effects depend on how far you Travel from your home, how long you are away, how many Frames you visit, and how frequently you change Frames. Do not underestimate these effects," Anwyl warned.