Perhaps with proper genetic work we can fully restore the ancients and offer them this same blessing. That said, memory is not stored in DNA, so I have a hard time imagining that accomplishing anything meaningful.
Arnon D’Bvaym
THUMP-THUMP, THUMP-THUMP, THUMP-THUMP.
64Bit could no longer feel a difference between the pounding of his feet and the pounding of his heart—both sent vibrations through his body, reverberations with one panicked message: run.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
But there was nowhere to run. Just a long, endless hallway, which would go on, and on, and on, an eternity of dust and stone, a claustrophobic tomb in which 64Bit would be torn apart by the tireless enemy that pursued him.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
The promise of death began settling on 64Bit like a hot, wet quilt. He would never save the master. He would never get an answer to his questions—he would never understand why. Why him? Why his brain? Why his chip? Why that poorly timed vision? What did it all mean?
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
64Bit felt himself slowing down. His legs burned, his chest burned, and the dust swirled into the air by Kayla and Westley’s prior passing made it hard to breathe. This wasn’t like his escape in Fort, with a visible enemy behind him, with potential escape avenues all around him. He knew Zed and the demon trunk were there. He heard loud skittering noises, like an oversized spider speeding down the hallway, the regular scrape of metal on stone. It was just a matter of time before they overtook him, or before he tired.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. Thump-thump . . .
A hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed 64Bit’s arm, yanking him to a halt.
64Bit froze and held his breath. This was it. For what must have been the hundredth time in the past several days he was facing his own death, this time already effectively entombed where none would find or remember him. 64Bit’s legs shook. His stomach roiled. This was the end, and he didn’t have the energy to break free and keep running.
All these thoughts took but an instant. “Oh God,” 64Bit moaned as the hand yanked on him. He didn’t know why, deep under the earth, he cried out to the heavens. “Please send somebody else to help them. Somebody better than me. A real . . . a real technomancer.”
“Get moving, idiot,” a feminine voice whispered in his ear before pulling him down a side hallway.
“I always thought you were a real technomancer,” another voice said.
64Bit blinked and tried to process the moment. He was moving again. He was being pulled forward, his hand holding something calloused, tough, yet with a delicacy to its size. He could see a short figure ahead of him in his green night vision, a shoulder-length ponytail that bounced with each step.
“Kayla,” 64Bit whispered.
Kayla looked back at 64Bit and scowled. “Run, moron! I’m not going to pull you forever.”
64Bit felt like he finally woke up. His heart was still beating quickly in his chest, but the rhythm felt purposeful instead of reckless. As he picked up his own pace, Kayla slipped her hand out of his and sped up. 64Bit’s hand felt cold when Kayla’s left.
Kayla had one hand on the wall and the other hand stretched forward, reminding 64Bit that she couldn’t see. It amazed him how quickly she moved despite this—was it fear that drove her forward? Bravery? Or the same disregard for herself and others that she’d constantly displayed since Richard died? 64Bit could only guess.
“Westley,” Kayla whispered. “What’s ahead?”
“Bad news,” Westley replied.
“Don’t—no,” Kayla growled. “There’s not. Just something to get through. What are we going to get through?”
“Uh,” Westley said, his voice echoing slightly in the narrow hallway. He stood before a dead end in the hallway, his hand resting on a door. “We are going to bash our heads against this metal door until it opens, and then keep running.”
64Bit grabbed Kayla’s arm and pulled her to a stop before she ran into Westley. She shook 64Bit off and felt her way forward along the wall until she found the door. She ran her fingers over it, slammed it with her fist, and uttered, “No!” Then she turned around. “Technoboy, open it. Magic-science-whatever this thing open.”
64Bit’s neck prickled as a loud skittering sound floated past him; the realization of what it meant made his bones feel heavy. He whispered, “They chose our hallway.” He reached out and touched the door with his gloved hand, but he was unable to connect with it wirelessly. “It’s not receiving the signal. Maybe there’s a port I can use with my finger jack . . .”
Kayla bared her teeth and pulled out her gun, waving it wildly. “I’ll kill them both while you look for it.”
“Kayla, be careful with that thing—you can’t see us,” 64Bit said. Kayla didn’t put the gun away, but she held it more pointed down as she bounced from foot to foot, attention focused down the hallway.
The skittering sounds grew louder, making it increasingly difficult for 64Bit to focus on finding a way through the door. It appeared to just be a metal door, with no automated pieces— nothing special about it. “What’s the point of a door with no automation?” 64Bit groaned.
“Maybe there’s some sort of trade we can make,” Westley said. “Not to trade one of us—probably better to fight if that’s necessary. But maybe that rozie will be happy with just an arm, or maybe a few fingers . . .”
Westley’s words flashed 64Bit back to the pop he heard when Zed bit his little finger off. 64Bit shuddered and gagged, but managed to choke out, “I’d rather die quickly.” He pulled his hand away from the door and looked down the hallway—as far as he could tell, there was no way through, and he would rather not have his back turned when Zed killed them.
A form materialized out of 64Bit’s green-and-black night vision. He saw Zed, sitting with his arms and legs folded, riding the trunk as it ran down the hallway. The width of the trunk was just barely short enough to fit within the corridor, but all of its legs were forced to move in front of it or behind it, rather than having two to each side, the front, and the back like normal. 64Bit felt Westley and Kayla stiffen and knew that, somehow, they felt the presence of the rozie and the demon trunk.
The trunk slowed to a stop. Zed sat with his eyes closed, preventing their small glow.
The trunk began tapping one leg rhythmically and shifting its body lightly. Zed breathed deeply, then patted its side. “Thank you, Lady.”
Kayla stepped forward and hissed, waving the gun in the air. “Open your eyes, demon.”
Zed laughed, but it was a hollow sound devoid of mirth. He tapped the trunk’s clicking leg and it stopped. “If only you knew our diabolical nature. But be quiet now—I wanted to talk, but you’ve brought my temper to its edge so quickly.” Zed shook his head then held a hand against the wall to steady himself as he hopped off the trunk.
“You can’t see,” 64Bit whispered.
Zed faced directly at 64Bit, would have been staring holes into him if the rozie’s eyes were opened. “While normally a comment like that wouldn’t be worth my time, I’m trying to parley, you suicidal imbeciles. Yes, I’m as blind as most of you are down here, but my audio receivers are very sharp and I have a very solid awareness around me, so don’t try anything foolish. The Lady has no need of sight, and she’s very hungry, so let that be extra incentive to keep things civil.” Zed stepped forward, closing the gap between him and Kayla.
64Bit saw Kayla flinch. For a moment he thought fear was freezing her to place, but then he saw the way her head was cocked, the way she shifted her feet. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Kayla, you can’t—”
Blam!
Pain lanced through 64Bit’s ears as the sound of the gun firing exploded through the tunnel, echoing seemingly endlessly. Her arm bucked back; the bullet scraped Zed’s middle, but the rozie, standing to the side, seemed unaffected. His arm shot out, grabbing the gun from Kayla’s hand and tossing it backward. “Now, with that out of the way . . .” the rozie began.
Kayla screamed and leaped at Zed, a knife suddenly in her hands. The rozie shouted in surprise and fended Kayla off, while the trunk behind him clattered and tried to push forward but was unable to move around Zed. Kayla’s hand struck forward like green lightning, the knife striking Zed’s left eye socket and burying itself halfway up the blade in a mess of wires, metal, and broken glass. Zed threw Kayla back and growled bestially, holding his hand to his eye. Kayla flew a short distance, struck the wall, and slumped to the floor bonelessly.
“What was that?” Westley cried. “Did something hit the wall?” He dropped to his knees and felt his way over to Kayla, freezing for a second when he found her, then cradling her limp figure. “Kayla? Kayla!” 64Bit held his ringing ears.
Zed grunted and muttered as he pulled the knife out of his eye and snapped the blade from the hilt. His other eye glowed menacingly in the dark. “You really think I was made so cheaply? No weapon you could get your hands on can stop me. Not the gun, and certainly not this little splinter.” He turned to the trunk, which opened its lid, and rummaged around for a moment, eventually pulling out another eye; its iris was a different shade of green than his current eye, which suggested to 64Bit that his eyes would no longer match. Zed stuck a finger in the ruined eye and scooped it out of the socket before replacing it with the new one. He tossed the destroyed eye into the trunk. The trunk then began tapping its leg again, but Zed placed a hand on its surface, stilling it. “I’m still in control.”
Zed turned around and folded his arms. He stared fiercely down the hallway; 64Bit was confident that he thought he was staring at someone, but 64Bit was standing just to the side of Zed’s gaze, which suggested the light of his eyes wasn’t quite enough to see by. “I want to talk.”
“If you’re going to kill us, just do it and stop toying with us,” Westley said, holding Kayla protectively.
“I’m not—ugh.” Zed rolled his mismatched eyes. “I don’t even know who you are, but I know the technomancer is here, and that’s who I want to talk to. We had a rough introduction, but I want to put that behind us.”
“You killed Richard and worked with Id to destroy Fort,” 64Bit said. He didn’t believe that last part, but he hoped it would annoy the rozie enough to keep it talking while he thought of an escape.
If only he had his staff!
“To be technical, my temporary associates did that, not me, and you killed them, so, fair is fair. Two for two, in fact.” Zed scratched his chin and looked in 64Bit’s direction, and his eyes narrowed. “And I’m choosing not to kill you for associating me with that witch. Don’t make such a suggestion again. Anyway, I’ve got a deal for you all, and if any of us want to get out of here alive then you’re going to accept it.”
“Any of us?” 64Bit muttered, wondering if Zed had meant to include himself. 64Bit looked around and wondered if there was some way to sneak away from the mad rozie, or some other benefit given to him by his night vision that would give him a real advantage over Zed. He couldn’t imagine any. He had no way of opening the door that blocked their path, and even if he did, he couldn’t get himself, Westley, and Kayla through, and the door closed and locked, before Zed or the trunk took action. Just then, 64Bit’s eye caught the elderly woman’s face carved into the front of the trunk and frowned. The body of the trunk was tilted toward 64Bit, as much as was possible in the tight corridor, making it look like the trunk was watching him.
64Bit looked at Westley and Kayla again. Westley cradled Kayla in his arms, protecting her as best as he could, while her head lolled to the side. 64Bit noticed something dark running down Kayla’s face—blood?
Icy resolve formed in 64Bit’s chest.
“Well, no response?” Zed said, annoyance lacing his voice. “I’m not going to pretend to be the good guy here. Your lives are on the line, while I can get out in one piece easily enough. But then I won’t get what I want, and good opportunities aren’t all that common in this world. So, there’s our bargaining chips— your lives, my desire.”
“What do you want?” 64Bit asked.
“I already told you when we first met. I want you.” Zed’s eyes nearly glittered as he spoke. “You’ll help me attain the blessing that the false prophet offers, as do some other technomancers. But the blessing they offer is fake—a trap. I want the real blessing. I want to live again. After that, I don’t care what happens to you.”
“I . . .” 64Bit looked at his feet. He remembered Zed mentioning this before, but those were memories he specifically avoided. Live again? He still had no clue how to offer the rozie what it wanted, nor did he believe it was possible.
Then a spark ignited in 64Bit’s mind, fusing two problems into one solution.
“I won’t mislead you, this isn’t something I’ve studied,” 64Bit said, his hand straying to the statuette in his pocket. He looked and did his best to keep his voice calm, although every vocal quaver felt to him as loud as a particle battery explosion. “But I will do what I can to help you with . . . I don’t really understand what you want, but I’ll try to understand. I’ll make my abilities available to you. I can trade for some information with the Binary and—”
“No!” Zed’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “We will have nothing to do with those . . .” Zed’s words cut off, and instead he just growled.
64Bit held his hands up, hoping the gesture was placating, then remembered that Zed couldn’t see him. “Okay, okay, that’s fine—there are other ways to get information.” 64Bit felt his hopes lift as another quick thought crossed his mind. “But I’ll need some help. My master has been captured by Id. He’s extremely knowledgeable—from what I gleaned out of his notebooks, he knew much more about rozies than he ever taught me. It would be a great boon if we took him with us when we left.”
Zed paused. “You know the old man is alive?”
“Yes.”
Face dark with heavy thought, Zed meditated for several moments. The trunk chattered, then pointed a leg at 64Bit, and Zed said, “Absolutely, but we may be able to tie up other loose ends if we look for the old man anyway. And we can hold the boy as collateral for the old man to ensure he doesn’t do anything funny.”
The trunk clacked a few times in response. 64Bit stared at it, morbidly curious at what it was saying. He felt a chill that ran all the way down to his toes as Zed’s frown turned into a scowl. “But it won’t make things any worse, either. I’ve made up my mind—but thank you for your input.” Zed looked at 64Bit. “Fine. I will help you get your master, and assist you and your friends out of here—no promises for the two of them, though, as to whether they survive. But when we get out of here, the three of us leave alone.” Zed smiled a Cheshire grin. “Just you, me, and the Lady. The others find their own way from there.”
“But what about everyone else?” Westley asked. He didn’t sound like he was speaking to Zed; when 64Bit looked back, Westley was staring in his direction. “I thought we were also here to save the people from Fort who were taken.”
“What about them?” Zed said. “If Id has all the resources she once had, many of them are rozies by now. Not that it matters, even if any are still alive—it’s a fool’s errand to try and escort a crowd of scared people through a rozie factory crawling with freshly maddened rozies. You’ve only seen old, broken-in rozies, accustomed to their lives in hell. Fresh rozies—those are another beast entirely.”
“Resources she once—?” 64Bit started, then Westley cut him off.
“That’s what we came here for,” Westley said firmly, looking at Zed’s glowing eyes.
Something twitched in Zed’s face. His expression was uncanny—despite the strange color palette produced by 64Bit’s night vision, the more he looked at Zed’s face, the clearer it became that the rozie wasn’t quite biological. He was expressive, both in his face and his movements, but movements that looked normal started to reveal a strange stiffness as 64Bit continued to watch. In this instance, Zed’s cheek and brow twitched together in annoyance, froze, then returned to their regular positions, and repeated, almost with the consistency of a broken computer screen flashing blue and black.
Zed finally responded. “Well, I’m not helping with that— that’s not part of my deal. But if you decide to wander off and forsake my assistance, I won’t stop you.” There was a raw edge to his voice that surprised 64Bit. It sounded like pain.
Westley began, “This is un—”
“We don’t have a choice,” 64Bit said, wondering if Zed genuinely wanted him alive or if this was just some sick game the rozie was playing. “Not a real one. We accept Zed’s offer or he kills us. I don’t see a third option.”
“I didn’t say I would kill you.” Zed sounded amused. “I said that you would never escape the factory alive. You can’t go back the way you came. The Lady here accidentally sealed the entrance behind her when she knocked the boulder out of place, and not even I was able to budge it an inch after it rolled over the tunnel entrance. There’s only one way forward—through the factory.”
Zed’s words briefly echoed through the tunnel before fading into a haunting silence.
“. . . Bit, why haven’t you zapped him yet?” Westley asked softly.
64Bit hung his head. “I . . . I lost the staff. Somewhere in the hallway.”
Westley shook his head, then breathed deeply. When he next spoke, the words slunk out of his mouth like a dog with its tail between its legs. “Fine. I guess we have no choice.”
“It’s a deal, then!” Zed turned around and began rummaging through the trunk. After a few moments, he stood up, holding the staff in one hand. “Just remember that this thing doesn’t work on the Lady; if you try to mess with my head, odds are good that she’ll eat you. And if she doesn’t kill you, well, I’m not myself when my head has been messed with.”
64Bit stared at Zed, feeling very much that he had signed his soul away to a devil.
“What? Don’t like these terms? Take the staff and accept, technomancer,” Zed said mockingly. 64Bit looked up from the trunk and noticed that Zed was holding his arm out to him, the staff held loosely in his fingers. 64Bit took the staff and held it close, feeling only marginally better to know that he had some way of responding to the rozies they would undoubtedly encounter.
“If I must,” 64Bit whispered.
“There we go.” Zed grinned. “Now let’s stroll through Gehenna, shall we?”
Copyright © 2023 by David Ludlow
Boo Ludlow 