Syn nodded. That might be true. “Okay, then. Let’s get going.”
The Barlgharel slithered forward, “One last thing. Beware the Hazards.”
“Huh?” Syn said, adjusting her pack around her shoulders. It felt heavier this morning that normal.
The bots of the Ecology had gone quiet at his mention of the Hazards.
“I’m not sure what you might find, but you might draw the attention of some of the monsters of the Disc. There are wild things out there—some quite monstrous—and they prowl throughout Nod.”
Syn furrowed her eyebrows. “Like animals?”
“Yes, they are quite like animals. Vicious and territorial. But no. They are not made of the Sun. They are like the walls and houses. They are things made to look real, but there is no love in them. There is no spark of intelligence in them. They think only of death. And it may be that you can venture from here to there without encountering one. But beware when you do. Be careful. Keep alert at all times. Do not detour from your course.”
Syn nodded, perplexed at this new, unknown threat. For the first time in a day, anxiety began to well up in her. Oh Blip, why did we ever come here?
Hidden amongst the gray miasma, the settlements stood toward the darkness with their curved facades—attempts to portray an unnatural world as organic.
She turned and strode out into the barren landscape, giving only a wave this time. Behind her followed her friends.
26
NOD
“I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams…”
The Desert of Olorun had been an accident. Nod was the name the Barlgharel had given it. It was not the apotheosis of all deserts. Syn could see the drained image of its borders—the rise of the settlements—from where she walked. It was not grueling hot. In fact, it lent itself to blasts of cold air that forced her to hunker down against the few dunes, and more often, behind Bear himself, as the wind passed by. It was not the lovely pure sand of the Sahara she’d seen in action films—this was not an ocean of sand. The tangled roots of the fallen trees and the cluttered stalks of weeds littered the ground and tripped her more than once. She tasted the sand in these moments, falling and unable to catch her groggy self. She sucked the dirt in short bursts and then spit it out. It was bitter and not just the salty dryness of regular sand. It looked like a desert when descending on the Jacob or scanning from atop the settlements, but up close, stepping across its pocked surface, it was the landscape of nightmares—distorted and tired with enough hint of life to suggest torture rather than survival.
At first, as she ventured out, a few of the bots circled behind in her wake, but with every step, more and more fell behind until it was only her and her three-bot entourage making the trek. Half a kilometer into her journey, she wrapped the scarf around her mouth and pulled her goggles down. The gifts were already useful. Looking back at the settlements, and the Cradle hidden somewhere within the monolithic rises, the dirt had kicked up so that she could see nothing of the collected bots. Or perhaps they had all fled back indoors, fearful of the burlys. And the Hazards, whatever those were.
In the last hour, she was certain she heard new voices twice. The bots? Perhaps it was Bear and Arquella whispering. She smiled—she was sure it was not burlys; they didn’t seem to talk at all. And for some reason she pictured the Hazards as screaming their arrival rather than whispering.
Huck continued to zoom around but stayed near her, never venturing far off. Bear rolled across the rough landscape next to her, and Arquella floated on the opposite side. The four ventured forward against the elements, without talking. She could only guess at the fears racing through their minds—perhaps the unknown Hazards, or more likely, the prospect of Zondon Almighty.
Syn paused to rest, planting her spear in the ground and steadying herself against it. She sighed. She had been overconfident. This was her ship. This Disc was the same size as hers. But she didn’t have an Ogun here. Nor did she have the freedom to flounce in whatever direction she desired as the queen, doing as she willed without question.
Now she walked, in pursuit of a city she had never entered. Despite the blowing dirt and the strangeness of the landscape, Syn had the bizarre sense that she knew where Zondon Almighty was located.
Occasionally, she would stop and look around, sure she was being watched. A few times, Huck would zip up above, possibly to gain a better vantage point, and she would catch his darting movement from the corner of her eye. Each time, she went tense—if she could see him, perhaps others could.
After a few hours, she held up a hand and motioned for the others to rest near a large dune. They followed her, and she sat back against it, bracing herself and enjoying the break in the blowing wind that it provided. Arquella dropped to the ground in front of her, and Bear rolled beside her.
“Everything okay?” Arquella asked.
Syn nodded. “Just thirsty.” Syn pulled out a small canister of water she had filled up in Arquella’s home. There was not much in it, and she knew if they didn’t keep going, she wouldn’t have enough to make the trip if there were delays and this trip stretched beyond a day.
Huck descended and rested atop Bear’s square frame.
The four sat in silence as Syn drank and rested. Syn remembered the weight of her pack and opened it up to discover several apples inside. Syn ate one and closed her eyes, listening to the hiss of the wind.
“Tell me about your friend,” Bear said.
Syn opened an eye and shot him a glance. “Blip?”
“Ya. The one we going for. He sure must be special for you to do this.”
Arquella added, “Is he special?”
Syn took a deep breath. “He’s special. He’s… my best friend. I haven’t known a day that he wasn’t near me. He’s always been there to help me. And guide me.” She chuckled. “He wasn’t a patient teacher, but he did teach me. And he put up with me. He would sit next to me when we watched movies, even if I insisted we watch them over and over. We would lose days in the theater, and he’d stay with me. And then he’d act out the scenes with me.” She laughed aloud. “I’d always have to give him the part with the least lines. He was a horrible actor. He could never get the lines right. And he’s a…” Syn had meant to say “bot” but caught herself. Remember who you’re talking to. “And he’s got a great memory. I don’t know if he ever forgot any line. But he’d do it. For me. When I was younger, I made him put on stupid costumes. And he’d do it! He’s Blip. I love him!” Syn surprised herself as a small tear rolled down her cheek.
Bear said, “I’d like to have a friend like that.”
“Me too,” Arquella said.
Syn glanced between the two and said, “Well maybe the two of you could be each other’s.”
The two looked at each other and then back to Syn but didn’t say a thing.
Syn stood, flung her pack over her shoulder, and picked up her spear. “Huck, point the way.” She pulled down her goggles, wrapped the scarf around her face, and they set off again into the blowing dust. Around her the sand whipped and spun, forming images in the air. Syn imagined seeing the figures of the dead drifting through the dust.
More hours passed, and the looming dot of Zondon Almighty grew much larger and dropped lower, approaching the horizon, as they drew closer. Although sometimes occluded by the billowing sand and the haze of this world, the dot grew into the small shape of a city. Soon, Syn realized she recognized the location. The more she thought about it, she knew where Zondon Almighty had to be placed. Obviously, from a scan, there was no great tree on this Disc. It had been removed. Or it had never been. Yet, the great tree had been the center of Syn’s Disc—of Syn’s world. And she knew it had been so for the colonists. She had read the works of one of the builders who was also a professor. He had argued not just to put a park in the center but to put in a jungle and to build the entire structure around the world of the green, around the central tree.