J Batt: Onliest

“Please,” he muttered, turning away from her.

Syn lifted herself off the tiger and leaned over to stare at her reflection in the water. “I see one now.” She held a finger above the mirrored face. “Look at those evil eyes and that wicked grin just waiting to launch out from the other side and gobble you up.”

He dropped to just an inch above the water in a smooth motion that was at once free fall and then instantly a solid stop, floating motionless in the air. The water below him rippled and her reflection distorted and disappeared. He gave an audible sigh—a simulation of the reaction since he had no lungs.

“Ahh, Blip. Don’t do that,” Syn whispered, “No reason to get bitter.”

“I’m not—”

“Besides, you’re starting to irritate Eku.” She reached a hand above her head and stroked the tiger’s neck, curling her fingers below its ears. The tiger purred—a rumble that shook her entire body. “See? Don’t upset the kitty.”

“I don’t see a kitty,” Blip spun around. “I see a predator.”

Syn rose up off of the tiger’s back, “She’s a softy.” Her fingers kneaded into the great cat’s fur. “She’s as programmed as you. You know she can’t hurt me.”

“It is impossible to completely program a tiger. With the right circumstances and provocation, her untamed instincts will take over, and you’ll see how dangerous she truly is. If you survive.”

“Hasn’t happened yet.”

Blip stared at the tiger. “You keep her happy.”

Syn leaned in and whispered to Blip, “Maybe I’m the dangerous one.” She stretched out her own fingers with their long nails, each painted in a bright cacophony of colors—orange, red, silver, and pink. “See. I have claws too.”

“You are not,” Blip huffed. “You do not.”

Syn slipped off the tiger’s back, landing with a plop in the water. She held a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Someone might hear.”

“There’s no one else to hear.”

“Oh yes there are. There are thousands aboard,” She cupped a hand to her ear. “They’re just dead.” She leaned in close. “Shhh. Do you hear that?”

“What?” Blip asked, rolling his eyes.

“Nothing. I hear nothing at all,” She stretched out her arms and spun, “Everyone else is gone. I’m all that’s left. In this big ‘ol ship!”

“That’s not your fault,” Blip said.

“Oh, I don’t know that,” she smiled at him then shut her eyes and dove under. She swam through the clear water toward one of the waterfalls. It thundered in a constant downpour against the false rocks. Syn came up, her head under the stream—a dark shadow veiled by the mist.

Eku paddled to the shore and plodded out of the water. She shook, and the fountain of water sprayed for meters. Blip had been watching Syn as she swam and had been ignoring the tiger. The spray of water showered the bot’s shell, blurring his blue-hued face.

He flew away and yelled, “Stupid thing! Watch it.”

Syn stuck her head out of the falls. She couldn’t hear the interaction, but she had seen enough of it to understand the situation. “Play nice,” she scolded, “Or…”

Her words dropped off, and she shot a look skyward.

Blip saw her gaze and turned to see what had captured her attention.

Far above, beyond the thin wisps of clouds, a bright light shone, streaking toward the ground.

Syn swam out from the falls, covering the distance between her and Blip quite fast. “A shooting star?” she asked as she watched the falling light and its long streak of a tail.

“Inside Olorun?” Blip asked, his voice edged with sarcasm.

“What is it?” Syn said.

Within seconds, the descending streak slammed into the ground several kilometers away—far enough that the curvature of the Disc allowed them to see the impact point and the plume of smoke and dirt that had just been sent up. The horizon swept up and away as the landscape followed the inside edge of the spinning habitat ring. Whatever the streaking light was, it had landed in the jungle but nearer the edge, near the settlements—the first level of houses that formed the wall of the Disc.

Syn ran her fingers through her dark hair. Like the tiger, she shook her head to shed the water. Her cloud of hair became a halo around her dark face. “Let’s go,” Syn said.

“I’ll go,” Blip countered, already moving in that direction. He picked up speed on his way over the water.

“No!” Syn shouted, stamping her foot on the ground.

Blip halted and turned around. He cocked an eyebrow up.

“You’re not leaving me behind again,” Syn jabbed a finger at him. “Wait.”

She strode further out of the water and picked her clothes up from the bank. She dressed quickly, throwing the tattered garments over each other in a mismatched array.

Blip hovered, eyeing the crash point, ignoring Syn, his constant wobble betraying his eagerness to investigate.

From a nearby branch, she lifted up her collection of chains and necklaces and put them around her neck. From the ground, she picked up her spear—a long carbon-fiber piece she had made herself. Mirroring herself, the spear was ordained with bright silks and threads at one end and smears of paint along the shaft. She stepped up to Eku and ran her fingers through the large cat’s fur. “Now we can go.”

The three moved ahead at a brisk pace before Syn decided to launch into a full run. She was lithe—thin, tall, and graceful. She knew this world, knew these trees and these paths. She flowed naturally through them and began to pick up speed as she let her body fall into the run.

Beside her, Eku paced, her orange and black pattern strobing through the shadows of the overhead trees. They crossed from underbrush over crafted sidewalks that were now decaying through lack of use. The grass overgrew edges of many walkways.

She turned onto a path, knowing it led out in a straight line toward the section they were aiming for. Once Syn’s feet hit the walkway, running lights along the edge of the path sparked to life, glowing a pure cyan. Each step was bathed in crystal blue illumination. The ship awoke for Syn—perhaps it was designed for human interaction, and since she was all that remained, the ship awoke only for her.

The pathways, like much of the ship, served double duty. The sun above was fake—the column around which the Disc rotated was lined with sunstrips that glowed and produced the natural lighting that covered the Disc. But it was still light energy, and the ship was designed to conserve as much as possible—the pathways, the roads, the tops of buildings, all of these intended by the builders to collect the light and convert it back into energy for the ship. If light fell on plants, they would use it. If light fell on manufactured surfaces, it would also be used. A conservational loop perfectly tuned.

And now, something had entered that pristine world.

Syn darted ahead—now only a half kilometer away from the crash. The lights glowed against her skin, and she looked like an angel flying through the forest

A simple cleaning bot blocked her path. The puck-shaped unit scrubbed away at the debris, picking up stray branches. The bot, like all of its kind, performed its job well. It could respond and talk back. But that was all programmed—the only smart bot inside Olorun was Blip. Blip stood apart from all of the thousands of other bots that managed the world of the Disc.

Syn leaped over the cleaning bot in a single vault and didn’t miss a pace. Ahead, the thin column of smoke rose.

“Can’t see it. Can’t be big,” Syn said. The impact loomed ahead, smaller than she had expected.

“Slow,” Blip said.

“Anything?” Syn responded. Blip’s sensors often detected things invisible and overlooked by her.