Yet on this Disc, there was no tree. Just Zondon. She was sure of it, and as they neared where her tree should be, the first signs of the city appeared, the edge of it rose up above the decline of dunes—the top of a tin and plaster and wood city. This was Zondon Almighty. Its silhouette was not presented in profile yet, but instead, they viewed it as if from a great height, seeing both its rise and the top of its structures, a sight afforded by the arc of the Disc upward and away. With each passing second, Syn was certain she had visited Zondon before. There was something in its arrangement that seemed familiar. Even from far away, still a couple kilometers ahead of the them, its construction had been an amalgamation of different structures. The walls and roofs seemed cobbled from various materials. The colors were all variations of gray and rust. Gray and rust streaked doors. Gray chimneys. Rust-colored stairs in a circle of a tower. Rusting railings along a lookout at the top of that tower. Some gray shadows moving back and forth across the tops of the buildings.
And all around that stood a great gray and rust-splattered wall. From her vantage point, she could see there were two layers of the wall—in this world it was evident the inhabitants couldn’t be too careful. Painted along the outside of the walls were horrific visages. Paint-smeared faces glared at them with dark eyes. From where she stood, the details were lost. All that she perceived was the fearful warning the faces with the glaring eyes and hungry smiles projected. They were far less distinct than the Orisha masks mounted on the towers above and were far less inviting. The Orisha masks seemed to have arrived from the ancient past—monuments to the persistent gods they represented. The faces scrawled on the outside of Zondon seemed conjured from somewhere dark—fleeting images that threatened to rush out at them if they all but glanced away.
In the center of the city a tower ascended—a set of two spires jutting up from the center of the city. Visual priority was a huge advantage. The tower had a broad base and narrow top, and as she moved closer, she could see a tiny ladder fastened to its side.
As they walked, Syn whispered to herself. “Blip, I’m coming.”
Her curiosity pulled her forward. She had to know what had happened here. There were people here. She had seen them as they stole Blip. For the first time, she was to meet real people and not just videos of the dead. Perhaps, people that could answer her. Her thoughts raced and the thousand questions she had ignored flooded in. What had they dug up? Could they provide insight to a world that they hadn’t seen? Who had started all this? Someone had begun the Madness, someone had started up Syn’s crèche and woken her, someone had killed off the majority of occupants, and someone had switched the dumb bots over here on. Who? Why? Why launch a ship and let it be consumed by death? So many questions. Maybe the answers weren’t in Zondon Almighty, but they might start there. And Blip was there.
“Watch out!” Bear shouted.
Syn froze, her eyes unable to find him in the blowing sand. “What?”
A huge metallic claw slammed into the sand in front of her, and Syn fell backward, landing hard on the ground.
“Run away!” Arquella screeched from somewhere behind her.
What was it? But the answer didn’t stay hidden for long. In front of her, a massive, gigantic form encased in a charcoal shell, nearly hidden in the darkness of the early afternoon, rose up out of the sand. The thing stood three meters above Syn. Dirt, rocks, and the trash of the former inhabitants fell from its insect-like body, raining down around Syn. A narrow head atop a two-portioned body that pivoted on top of six legs glared down at her.
A tree mover. Syn had avoided the gigantic bots on her side, but they always seemed harmless. They lumbered about, slowly clearing away dying trees and planting new ones. Their size frightened her but only that. They never crushed other bots or animals underneath them as they worked.
This one wasn’t working properly anymore. It screeched, and four tentacled arms extended from its sides; its iron plates grated against each other with every movement. Three metallic pinchers flayed open at the end of each tentacle, and each aimed for one of the four travelers.
“Everyone! Move!” Syn yelled, hurrying back to her feet and grasping her spear with both hands.
Bear rolled back but snagged his wheel on a branch uncovered in the beast’s reveal. Bear lost his balanced and tumbled backwards down the dune, end over end, fearfully squealing in his high-pitched whine as he dropped out of sight.
Huck darted through the air, nimbly avoiding the tentacle snaking for it. The two whipped around in an odd dance, the strange black whip missing the eye-bot over and over.
Syn leapt back further, trying to put space between it and the tree handler. The thing noticed her and must’ve assumed she was the primary threat. It scuttled toward her with a speed and ferocity she had never witnessed in its kind before. Syn screeched and turned around to run, but slammed straight into Arquella, smashing her face into the bot’s side. Arquella went flying to the ground and rolled through the sand. Syn dropped backwards, a mist of blood pouring from her nose. Instead of putting distance between herself and the giant, attacking bot, she fell directly between its two front legs, staring up at its head.
Recognizing the opportunity, Syn lashed upwards with her spear. The bladed end struck the metallic frame and was deflected, not leaving a dent or scratch in the beast’s surface.
She swore as the beast lumbered ahead, its large legs slamming around her, sending vibrations through the ground. In the low light, it was hard to keep track of all of its limbs. There were three red lights running up each leg and one single light at the end of each pincher. The lights from the pinchers seemed to float around like crimson fireflies. If it wasn’t for those lights, the beast would be impossible to keep track of.
It moved forward and then pivoted as if searching. It couldn’t seem to see under itself. At least, not where she was standing. She had found a blind spot.
She jabbed the spear up again. And again. And again. The beast was unaffected. She had hoped she’d found a weak spot. Everyone knows dragon’s bellies are unprotected. But unlike the myths, this one’s soft belly was impenetrable.
From her left side, something slammed into the thing’s large leg, jolting it and rocking it back. Its two back legs shifted to adjust its weight and keep its balance, one of them slamming inches from Syn’s face. She rolled to her right and onto her feet, crouching down.
Bear had hit it. He had somehow clambered back to the fight from his fall. He reared back and slammed forward, hitting the beast’s leg again. It rocked and swayed far more than before. It was off-balance, struggling to shift its trunk-like legs fast enough against the barrage of Bear’s slams.
Bear tried again, roaring out in his high-pitched, nasal tone. The creature swung its leg back, too quick for Bear to readjust his trajectory, then swung the leg back again, smacking Bear hard and sending the bot flying.
From behind the dune, the shiny sphere that was Arquella leapt up into view and shouted, “Bear!” and raced after the tumbling bot. The tree mover was distracted by the gleaming bot and shifted after it, its massive legs thumping against the ground. With the distraction, Syn darted behind the creature, hoping to avoid its eye-line. If she could just keep circling behind it, maybe she’d see a weakness.