Chapter 7: Chapter Seven: Mirrors

I saw the city ahead of me, Meek Pox, through webs of thought. The buildings in the Meeks, aside from maybe Meek Onfidlack, were never as high as the holy monuments to the Sachi on the floating city above. These were more like fifty feet at their highest and ten to twenty at the lowest, as opposed to the monoliths of the Upper-Plateau that towered at three to four hundred feet high. These were made with trash, brick, scrap metal, and maybe some wood, while the Upper-Plateau skyscrapers were sleek, smooth, and perfect. I realized that my comparisons of the buildings, Upper-City and Under, and my comparisons of Ai to Shun were not all that different, and I felt a ripping guilt in my gut once again.

This is what happened. And then Shun would take me back, every time, with not a trace of resentment.

I took a quick sniff of Sachi, the burn a painful reminder of what dreams and quiet reliefs lay ahead, then wiped my nose on the back of a leather glove.

I followed Ai between two yellow-lit, three-story buildings, one a weapons shop and the other a healer specializing in herbs, Sachi concoctions, dopamine, and endorphins. A market spread out before us, a large ring of shops all rusted and bent and fucked up, looking like broken teeth in a shooter’s mouth. The needles in my suit once again beckoned for my command.

A sign with a suit of armor like mine on it blinked on and off. Places like that tried to replicate the Sachiarmor and sell it, but their main business in the Meeks was in repairs, though every once in a while, they’d get enough pieces to make a full suit, spine and all, and then they could charge an obscene amount of Andalaf credits for it. My suit was doing fine but might need a recharge in a pool of Sachi soon, and my blade, too, but thankfully, nothing radical had been damaged.

In the middle of town was a large telescope on a wooden base made of many different kinds of wood—fence posts, doors, and house support beams. This was Meek Pox’s idea of a downtown monument, I suppose. I admitted this was a good find in the trash.

I was wondering how they got this telescope out and if it still worked when I saw the stack of endorphinscreen sets playing in a window across the square. Some kind of Sachitronic store, junk piled up behind the screens, and a few sorry souls hooked up to endorphin receptors to power the sets, heads lolling, eyes clouded and unseeing. I’d call it easy money if it didn’t give you the shivers and the shits when the endorphins were spare.

I imagined there was probably an awkward bell hanging on the other side of the paint-peeled door to the shop. Some of the endorphinscreens were fucked up, pulsing between yellow and forest green, but seven or eight of them were working.

“Ningyo,” Ai whispered. “This way.”

“You can’t talk here in that,” I said, pointing to her Silence mask, but then I heard something from the screens that pulled my attention. “Hold on.” I slowly walked across the dirt toward the window. As I approached, I could hear the phase of the endorphinscreen sets playing just out of sync with each other.

“Andalaf Chudo on the scene here, folks, to apprehend the terrorists who have already destroyed one of our energy-providing drill towers tonight. Soon, they will be in our custody. One can only hope those who are still hard at work inside the tower can get out before the bombs go off. We are sending in an evacuation force now.” It was the reporter from the endorphincopter.

I watched myself deflect Niko’s blade, flipping back toward the tower on one hand. My blonde hair licked my face for a moment before I kicked Niko’s blade away from me.

Ai stood at my side, silent. Then I noticed another person standing next to us: an older man with a hat, a lined face, nice clothes—for the Meeks, that is—and a protruding belly pushing up against suspenders.

“You ask me. They got what’s comin’ to ‘em with all the death. They have been promisin’ us folks of the Meeks our due since they built the Plateau. I was told by Andy Andalaf himself that I’d be in one of those fucking slick black buildings up there, tellin’ people what to do in the towers. Good for them, I say, standin’ up to the fuckers,” he said, turning to me, looking back to the feed. On the screen, I was currently throwing Niko into the copter, and the platform below me was collapsing. I could only be thankful that Shun was not onscreen. “Holy shit. It’s you!”

“Let’s go,” I said to Ai. I saw a clothing store across the way and walked to it. Ai was behind me. I opened a pocket in my suit and handed her twenty Andalaf credits. “I need you to go in there and get me something I can use to cover my face and my hair. The blade will be hard, but it’s the best we can do while I’m walking through the city. I’ll meet you around back.”

I waited for her to recoil, to run, to refuse, but the revelation of what I’d done seemed to make little difference. She merely nodded her head and walked into the little clothing store. I walked around back. The mound of the trash pile was only six feet away from the back of the building, and I wondered how long it would be before it overtook this little shopping center. Is that what the Meeks would become? So completely filled with trash that they were uninhabitable? But no, Andalaf needed us down there. They would probably clear up just enough to keep us living there, calling it our home.

Our home?

The last time I really lived there was before Chudo. It still felt like home, though. And that’s how they got us to stay, a valuable resource of slaves, keeping themselves enslaved, with just enough freedom to blame themselves for the enslavement. Show the goat the open door, and it will be yours forever. I don’t remember where I heard that one, but goddamn it’s the truth. Even I felt it, and I’d made it out.

But now you’re back, right?

After Morfran, this was a comfort, a paradise—these blinking lights of pale yellow, the peach-yellow fog coloring everything, the black metal sky, the sea of trash—all of it felt more healthy and clean than the true oppression of the floating city and its false claims of freedom.

“Here,” Ai said, touching my arm again with her bare hand. Bare hands … no one has bare hands in the Twelve Meeks. It brought heat to my suit down below, and I strained to think of the lines in the old man’s face in front of the Sachitronics store. It worked, and my blood stopped pumping so fast. She handed me a black cloak and a scarf. I wrapped the scarf around the bottom of my face and threw the cloak on, hood up. “That was you on the endorphinscreen.”

“Yes,” I said, my voice muffled by the scarf. “We really shouldn’t be talking so close—”

“It’s fine. We’re behind the building, and there’s only trash to hear us. You did that?” she said, pointing to the collapsing drill tower inside of the shielding support beams.

The explosions I could see were relatively contained, and I felt a bit of relief that the damage did not reach far out into the Meeks. I wondered where the pieces of the beast’s tusks and flesh landed. Meek Pox, so far, seemed mostly unscathed.

“Yes. I did that.”

“Why?”

“It was a job.”

“So you’re a mercenary? Well, I guess I already knew that. You’re working a job for me.”

“Uh … a job?”

“Yeah. You’re escorting me home, and I’m giving you healing Sachi. A job.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Well, if I’m on the clock, then we should get going, eh? They’ll be looking for both of us now.”

“I’m used to it,” Ai said. I’m sure, I thought but did not say aloud. She pulled my arm with her to the main road. “Here, hold these. Maybe you’ll pass as a grieving mother or something.”

She handed me three flowers. They smelled wonderful, and I realized that Ai smelled the same way.

“You’re not … I don’t know … scared?” I said.

“Of what? You?”

I shrugged. She lifted her mask.

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” she said. “What I know is that when I asked for help, you gave it.” She paused, looking up to the burning wreckage. I thought I saw her tongue flick out at the air like a lizard’s. She went on in a far away voice, “Every action is a form of destruction. Taking a step, sitting down, eating—even eating a plant is destructive. All you have is how you feel about it.”

Her eyes met mine and her irises flashed a deep red. She furrowed her brow. “You feel familiar.”

She nodded to herself, pulled her mask back down, then walked on. I paused for a moment, considering. I’d killed innocent people from the Twelve Meeks, people from Andalaf, and an innocent, enslaved beast, and she’d compared them all to plants. That almost felt worse than a condemnation.

We passed through another small business district. A siren sounded, almost as loud as the tower beast’s cries upon dying.

“Meek Pox. Stay inside. There has been another attack from the Sun-Seekers. Lock your doors. Andalaf is here to help. Meek Pox. Stay inside. There—”

“Oh fuck off!” an old woman in rags screamed in answer. “How soon before the sky falls?”

“Falling now,” a man answered her. “And falling well. Fuck Andalaf!”

Ai turned her mask on me. “We need to go,” I mouthed, and she nodded to me.

The trash piles were smaller here, and I saw a number of critters scurrying along the path and through what trash still bordered the road. I heard the message repeating over and over, assuring the residents that they were safe and that they should stay inside. We came to a small area where some plants grew, amazingly, and she took me beneath a cobblestone bridge. A small brook babbled, and there was a large pipe running beneath the bridge, big enough for us both to stand upright and side by side. The amplified voices were like whispers now, and I was grateful.

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“Through here,” she said. We walked for a time in silence, our feet pattering in the ever-present puddle that flowed through the pipe.

The tunnel forked, and we went left for another mile or so, then turned again to the right. Long pipe—maybe it used to provide water to the Meeks? I didn’t know. It was very bright on the other side of our pipe journey, and I was awestruck by the sight of trees growing apples, bushes with raspberries, and a small, clear pond, rings of life breaking its shimmering surface. I looked up for the source of the lights and saw there were many mirrors above, built into a towering mound of trash, almost like a cliffside. They reflected the light coming through from the drill tower, the one I had just collapsed. Smoke and destruction obscured the light somewhat, setting it to fade and flicker. I wondered if more light would shine on these mirrors now that the tower was gone, once all the wreckage was cleared.

“The mirrors … they reflect the light from the holes in the ceiling near the drill tower?” I asked.

“Depending on the time of day, yes,” Ai said. “I placed them all over to catch the light from the other drill towers.”

“Does that work? They’re pretty far away,” I said.

“It works well enough,” she said, gesturing all around her. She was right. Life bloomed. Some mirrors were square, some circular, all hung with wires. And in a couple, for just a moment, there at the far end of her little haven here, I could swear I saw a figure within them, a woman dark and despicable, staring out at us as if there were another world or time, or maybe reality, beyond. Another life available, should I so wish it. But then the figure was gone, and so too were my thoughts on other lives.

“You live here?” I asked, wondering if she got the wire from the springy spot we’d walked through in the trash.

“With my dad. He should be inside. I’ll introduce you.”

“I … don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I said, studying the walls of trash. Sallis-Faint, living in the middle of Man’naka, trying to stay hidden—away from the eyes of Andalaf. Under my cloak, I wore a Chudo suit of Sachiarmor. Morfran’s face flashed across my vision. I pulled out my bag of powder. Ai didn’t seem to mind.

“When I tell him you helped me get away from the Jonny, Ningyo, he’ll be fine,” she said, then pointed at my bag of powder, “just try to do that in the bathroom if you need more inside.”

I followed Ai into the small house set into the hill of trash, the mirrors shining bright above with the morning sun. The door was painted purple and shaped like a pear.

“I’m home,” she called into the house. “I brought someone with me.”

“Ai?” a voice said from the other room. A man with dark brown skin and piercing blue eyes came into the room. The whites of his eyes were slightly yellow, the sign of someone who has been exposed to Sachi, more than just the gases from the Under-City. That’s what my eyes looked like. Interesting. “Um. Who are you?” he asked, dusting his gloves off on his apron.

“I’m—”

His eyes widened, and then he pulled a gun from behind his back and pointed it at me.

“Woah, shit!” I said, backing away and putting my hands to the side.

“No! Dad, this is Ningyo,” Ai said, stepping between us. “She helped me get away from a Jonny back in the flower garden—”

“I knew you shouldn’t be going there. Even with the Silence costume!”

“No, it’s because I took the mask off—”

“You what? Don’t you move,” he said to me, sidestepping to keep the gun trained on me.

“I … well, she fell. From the tower.”

“The tower? What do you mean the tower?”

“Have you not been outside? The tower. Meek Pox’s drill tower. The sound!”

He furrowed his brow, but there was something disingenuous about it, like he was holding something back. “I heard something but assumed it was just Andalaf up to no good as usual, but that was before you left …” He trailed off, studying her. “You left to look at it!” he accused.

“I was going to the garden today anyway! And I didn’t think there was any harm in—”

“Ai! What were you thinking? You can go out and deliver your flowers as a member of the Silence to families of the kids—”

“More than just kids,” Ai muttered.

The man held his free hand up. “Whatever. You can do that, but when it comes to Andalaf tinkering with their clump of floating metal, you leave it alone.”

Ai didn’t seem too concerned. In fact, she looked almost sympathetic, as if she felt bad for her father, not for what she’d done that apparently broached some agreement they had. “It came down,” she said. “Meek Pox’s drill has fallen.”

“Ai …”

She stood straight. “I promise I will be more careful in the future, sir!” She saluted him. “Now, could you please lower the gun?”

“I don’t understand … you’re saying another creature has … fallen?”

“Yes,” she said, exasperated, “and stop acting like you don’t know about it. Anyway. This is Ningyo, and I wouldn’t have made it home without her. Ningyo, this is my father, Akio.”

“She’s Chudo, Ai. I can see it in her eyes, damnit,” Akio said. He sounded sad. “God, do you know what this means? Of course, you do.”

“She isn’t one anymore, dad, she’s—”

“I can go,” I said. “No problem.”

“No!”

“Ai, you didn’t need this woman to escort you. You know that.” He grimaced, then sagged, dropping the gun to his side. “You could have used Caelziax. And now … this. I couldn’t stop a Chudo with a gun. Not with a gun, not with a sword, not with twelve of me.”

Ai narrowed her eyes at him.

“And you think that wouldn’t have attracted attention? ‘Here I am! Come find me!’ Use it to deal with one Jonny? No, Ningyo was very helpful. Using Caelziax would have been unwise.”

His mouth turned up at one corner in contemplation. Then he turned tear-filled eyes on me. “Please,” he said, “don’t take her. They’ll just torture her. Enslave her. You know it. You work for them. You know what Nejirita does with his … specimens.”

“Worked,” I said. “I worked for Andalaf. Quit five years ago. Morfran killed my son. He thought he killed me, but I survived.”

His eyes went wide. “Ningyo …” he said. “Second only to—”

“Only to Morfran, yes.” I slowly took down the scarf covering the bottom half of my face.

Akio nodded to himself. “Shit. I recognize you. They’ve been looking for Morfran since he disappeared. And you, too, probably. What are you doing here?”

I shrugged. “I had business to take care of. What about you?” I pointed to his eyes. “Were you a captain? Looks like you quit the big job, too.”

Akio looked away, wiping his eyes.

“She fell from the tower. I think her suit saved her from the worst of it, and I healed whatever it didn’t, but I think she’s been up all night. I’d like to give her a bed here for a time,” Ai said curtly, folding her arms.

Akio looked me in the eyes. “You’re not here for Andalaf?”

I shook my head. “As I said. Stopped working for them five years ago. When my son was murdered. I’m a mercenary. This was just another job for me. My business up above at the tower is of no concern to you. And the bed won’t be necessary. I have plenty of Sachi to keep me awake.”

The mercenary mention earned me a speculative look from him. “So you’ll be expecting payment then?”

“I’m giving her healing Sachi,” Ai said, then turned to me. “I won’t let you leave without resting. Mercenary or not, you saved me from a Jonny. From Andalaf.”

Akio gave me a wary look-over as he chewed on his lip. He nodded. “Stay the night. And then be on your way. And please. Please do not tell anyone about this place.”

I wouldn’t give her over to Andalaf. But if Morfran didn’t come with the destruction of that tower, and I had to, I would use Ai to draw him out. I would use anything to draw him out.

“I never divulge my clients’ private information,” I said. “If someone were to hire me to try to find you, I would not accept the job because it would be a conflict of interest.” I looked around the room. “I don’t think I could even find this place again.”

Akio laughed darkly.

“That’s the idea,” Ai said, smiling. “I’ll go get a bed ready. Oh! Here.” She handed me a green-colored Sachi gem. Healing Sachi. “Where are you planning to go after you rest?”

I saw no harm in telling them. After all, they’d let me in their very private paradise in the trash. “Meek Alfrendil.”

“Do you know how to get there? You know about the gangs?”

“I’ll find my way, and I’m sure with the healing Sachi—”

“I’ll just have to come with you, then,” Ai said, walking off to a set of wooden stairs behind her father.

I was confused. Why did she want so badly to help me. ‘You feel familiar.’ What had she meant by that?

Akio said, “Ai, I think—”

“Lots to do!” Ai called from upstairs. “And I’m going with her! I’m fucking twenty-three, not six!”

Akio blew raspberries in exasperation, then looked at me. “Can I, uh—” he waved his arms like he was juggling, eyes unfocused and looking at the ground.

“It’s fine, Akio,” I said. “I don’t need anything. And I’ll leave when she’s not looking.”

He looked up at me, his relief palpable. He nodded his head. “Thank you,” he said. “Well, make yourself at home. The bathroom is there by the stairs. The kitchen is to your left if you need water or whatever. I’ll just go and finish up the door I was working on.”

“You’re a carpenter?” I asked.

“You could call it a hobby. I make things now.”

‘Now.’ I looked at the yellow filling the whites of his eyes. Not Chudo, but something else. Somewhere else. It doesn’t matter.

“Did you build this house?” I asked. “It’s lovely. The whole place is. And the mirrors?”

He gave me a tired look, then let out a sigh.

“The mirrors were all Ai. She couldn’t stand not having a garden of our own. She brought them back after she made me get the Silence outfit so she could go out more.” He widened his eyes at me as if to say ‘and look where that got us.’

“Does she actually practice?”

“Oh yeah. She brings the flowers to anyone that’s got family who’s died of the Sachi poisoning. That’s her hobby. Well, that and gardening. And, well, just plain sitting and enjoying it all.” He scratched his chin. “I don’t know why I still try to keep her in, but … well, she’s something special, Ningyo. Unlike anyone I’ve ever met. And if I lost her, I—”

“All ready!” Ai said, coming down the steps. “Sleep as long as you need. I’ll be ready to go when you wake up.”

I locked eyes with Akio. The man touched me with his words, but before that, I was touched by his daughter. Out there, in the trash, where she had me listen. She was special. And I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t have to compromise her. She was like a flower growing in a pit of poison, encouraging others to sprout up and to enjoy it. I wondered how those families felt after one of her Silence visits. She could probably do it without even talking.

I nodded to Akio, and the contact in our eyes seemed to communicate what we couldn’t say in front of Ai. We understood what she was. And we both wanted her to exist.

The bedroom upstairs was simple and angular, the part of the ceiling above the bed slanting inward, and I bumped my head on it as I sat down. There was a small nightstand against the opposite wall to the bed, about three feet away, and just next to the headboard was a small window, its yellow curtains blowing in with the cool breeze.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

I was honestly very hungry, but I was more fatigued, and now that I’d finally sat down, I did not want to get up.

“No, but thank you,” I said.

She smiled, her ruby-red eyes flashing at me. God, that smile. I didn’t want to leave it behind. I—

There were so many reasons why I needed to leave it behind. I wanted to get back to Shun to keep Ai safe, but use Ai if I had to. I wanted … for Ai to come sit on the bed with me, to cry. She made me feel like crying, and I wasn’t sure why.

“I’ll have food ready when you wake up, Ningyo,” Ai said, turning for the door.

I didn’t correct her. I didn’t want to. Ningyo sounded right when she said it, not twisted and awkward like when anyone else said it. Sallis-Faint … the enchantment? What was this—this … serenity?

I didn’t even realize I’d laid my head down. I fell asleep.

Wake up.

When I woke, the light from the opening near the drill tower was gone, and it was dark. The breeze sent shivers down my spine. I noted that the house must be close to one of the exits to the outside world if there was a breeze. I rubbed my eyes and clicked the button to turn my back magnet on, then put my Sachiblade on it.

The window was small, but I managed to fit through and out onto the roof of the house. I inspected the yard to ensure Ai was not outside. Confident she was not, I used the wires that the mirrors hung on to climb sideways, then up to the top of the trash cliff. I wasn’t sure I could find my way back through the tunnel that Ai took us through, and I didn’t want to risk her seeing me. From the top of the trash, I could see the low lights and scrap metal buildings of Meek Pox in the distance. I pulled up my scarf and then turned around to the drill tower. Smoke still billowed from the giant, and I could now see two pieces of a broken tusk lying against the support beams. I’d killed two of those enchanted creatures. I was leaving another behind, and I hoped I wouldn’t have to come back for her. But I was on the endorphinscreens. Andalaf would know it was me. Which meant Morfran would know and would come. So, I could leave this woman alone. Go back to Shun and wait.