Syn took a step back, bumping back into the cabinet behind her. “Your child?”
Neci glanced back at the emotionless face of Admiral. “Ours. And yes.”
“Oh,” Syn muttered. Her fingers gripped the countertop behind her and curled tightly, holding her steady as the world swam around her. Neci was going to be a mother. She was pregnant. She was going to have… Syn breathed out the words, “A child.”
Neci nodded, reaching forward and putting her hand on Syn’s cheek. “So, you see why we have to go over there? I can’t have a child here. Not on this side.”
Syn pulled away from Neci and spun around to face the metal cabinet. She couldn’t look at Neci. Everything was spinning. She couldn’t leave Neci to raise a child here, in this world. Her fingers felt slick, and she looked down to see she had placed them in blood. She shook her head. The Crimson Queen indeed. She couldn’t bring Neci the Butcher to her side. She looked back up at the cabinet and saw Neci’s reflection in the dirty aluminum. For a moment, it was a mirror, reflecting Syn and a nightmare version of herself. Syn breathed out, “No,” but the word had no weight.
Neci put a hand on Syn’s shoulder. “Please don’t go this way. Things are so close to working out. I can give you whatever you need. I told you I could make you one. I won’t be the only mother then. We could fill the world with new children.”
Syn’s mind erupted with images of motherhood: a young child in her arms, caring for a new human, raising it in the green fields of her Disc. Then another image took its place as Syn remembered hiding amongst the pile of children’s bones. “You had children on this Disc,” Syn grunted.
“What? No. This will be my first.”
Syn hissed, “There were children here, and you killed them. I’ve seen their bodies.”
Neci sighed, “Not those. Those were human. See—that’s yours and the others’ problem. You keep thinking we’re human. We’re not. They made us to be better than them. We aren’t human. Not like them at all. I’m talking about filling Olorun with our children. Children that can survive the world we’re heading to.”
Syn shook her head and glared at the dirty reflection of Neci in the cabinet door. She spun around and seethed, her hands balled into fists, “Not my world. Not that one either. I’m not letting you anywhere near my Disc. It’s mine, and I won’t let you destroy it with your rot!”
Neci backhanded Syn so hard that she slammed against the ground. Her cheek ripped, snagged on one of the rings Neci wore. A splatter of blood stained Neci’s cloak, leaving dark red spots against the field of lighter crimson. Syn lay on the ground and looked up at Neci while blood still flowed from her head. She could feel the tears welling up inside.
Neci spoke, still calm and controlled, “My Disc. Discs. My ship. I’m the Queen of Olorun. Not you.” She stood above Syn, glaring down. “I won the right to rule. Not you.” She pointed up. “And not her!”
Neci gave a sharp kick to Syn and spat on the ground, “I’m the first to be a mother. I’m the Queen. And you and your small mind don’t even get it. You’d rather be with those stupid machines than with your own sisters. You’ve had it all, and you think you’re better than us—you think you deserve the right to Paradise and not us. But I’m not going to let you win. I tried to be kind, tried to get you to be honest. I’ve tried bargaining. I’ve pleaded. I’m done trying. I’m finished! You’re going with us, and you’re either going to open the door of your own free will, or I’m going to make you do it.”
“You can’t,” hissed Syn. “I’ll stay here!”
Neci laughed. “That’s what I was afraid of. I’m going to make sure that’s not an option. I have a final alternative to force your hand and the bitch above. You will both do as I want. Can’t stay here when this place doesn’t exist.” With another sharp kick to the side, she pointed at Admiral, “Shove her back in her room, and stay there with her. I don’t want her getting out again.”
Neci left and the large burly leaned down to Syn. She shifted away, but there was nowhere to escape to. He held her two arms and lifted her to her feet, gently setting her down. He turned her around and pressed his large palms against her shoulders. She shuddered at his touch. There was something primal in his nudity. All she knew of human culture was from film, and she knew that he was revealing something that was to be private. And yet, here he was, so close to her. And yet, as he ushered her away, he was not harsh. There was a strange calm about his actions. He never hurt her the entire slow march back to the room through the dark.
She imagined Pigeon somewhere in the shadows watching her be escorted back. Pigeon had said, “I showed you this so you could see what she’ll do to your world.” Syn sighed. There was no future for a world that Neci lived in.
35
RECLAIMING
“All things that fall from heaven are to the blessing of the faithful.”
Syn’s body ached. The throb of Neci’s kicks still radiated throughout her arms and legs.
Outside her room, outside the city, something boomed in a voice like that of an angel announcing the apocalypse, “All things that fall from heaven are to the blessing of the faithful.”
Syn crawled from the bed and wobbled to the door. It was unlocked, and the burlys that had guarded it were gone. Admiral himself was absent.
The roar came again from far outside. “The Expected is to be delivered unto us.” She had heard that term before. The Expected. But where? The fog of sleep plagued her mind.
Syn walked down through the main dining area with its open ceiling and large, roped-together plastic assemblage of tables, and then through the door out to the walkway. It was a maze to the main gate. She came out to see Neci, Kerwen, Taji, Pigeon, Admiral, and ten more burlys all standing and staring at the closed main gate. Before them, on either side of the gate, two rough towers rose. Atop these, hunched like frogs, sat two more burlys. The one on the right was an enormous thing, towering above the others, his broad shoulders squared, and made Syn wonder if he might just be a part of the furniture stacked there. She looked several times to separate him out from the columns supporting the thin, crumbling roof of the tower. The other burlys deserved the name. Tall, brutish, and rough. The one on the right tower was a different animal altogether.
From outside, the voice bellowed, “In peace we ride to your walls. In peace we’ll leave. But we are guaranteed the Expected.” The buildings and the walls rattled as the voice spoke. The tin warbled as it vibrated against metal struts.
Taji spoke to the gathering, “How many of the fanatics are there?”
Syn cocked her head at this. Fanatics?
Pigeon was walking back from the wall and spoke up, “At least two hundred. Probably more. I lost count.”
Taji swore.
Kerwen chirped, “Thanks, Sheep.”
Syn cracked a grin. Despite all that happened, Kerwen was still Kerwen. She must’ve giggled or snorted and gave a slight hum of acknowledgment or appreciation. She must’ve done something because Kerwen turned and looked at her, followed by the other heads in the group twisting back toward her.
Taji grunted, “Perfect. Don’t have to hunt for her to throw her to the wolves.”
Neci sighed. “We’re not giving her up.”
“They might be wanting to kill her,” Taji said.
The tall queen of the Sisters cleared the distance and grabbed ahold of Syn’s hand and pulling her back to the group. “We’re not killing a Sister, now are we?” Her elbow nudged Syn’s arm. “Besides, the machines don’t dictate to us, and I don’t think that’s why they want her.”