Neci stood, unmoved and unfazed by Syn’s declarations.
Taji laughed, “They were machines.” She stood only a foot or two ahead Syn. She had maneuvered there without Syn’s notice. The girl was not only large but, like Pigeon, she was stealthy.
Pigeon glared at Syn, raising a finger to her lips. She repeated Taji’s words, “They’re machines.” Pigeon did not glance away. There was no fear or shame in her stare. Just cold control now.
She stared back at the flames of the city. In the flames of the Zondon Almighty, she saw images of the future: her Disc burning. Her tree. Her river. Her world. In flame.
Taji yanked at Syn’s shirt and pulled her back to their hover. Neci nodded and sped away to the Jacob. Taji pulled Syn close. “You’re crossing lines. Once we get to that gate, you either prove you’ve had a change of heart or—”
Syn was not listening. If she were to flee, now would be the time. There was only Kerwen’s bike with her burlys. Then Taji and her. She could run. But as she moved her foot to turn, a jab of pain shot through her leg.
Syn’s own spear was jammed against her ankle—the spear held tightly in Taji’s hand. The girl glared, “No fast moves.”
“That’s mine!” Syn hissed.
Taji pulled the spear back, spinning it in the air and looking over the cracked shaft. “Now, it’s mine. Get on the bike.”
36
JOURNAL ENTRY: THE SALVATION OF EKU
The Unauthorized Journal of Syn
Section 18
Composed 2758
Blip wanted us to give the tiger time and distance. I didn’t. I wanted to see it again. Okay—I wanted to see the cubs again.
The next day, Blip reluctantly followed me back into the settlements, back to the tiger and its makeshift den. We navigated through the halls and doors, carefully watching before and after. Blip glowed a bright green, watching everything, all sensors on high.
“Anything?” I asked, for the fifteen-hundredth time in the last ten minutes.
Blip sighed and then chirped, “No. Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“That’s the same question.”
“But nothing? Absolutely nothing?”
“There’s nothing around. There’s no tiger stalking around,” Blip said.
We were only four rooms away from the den, and a chill ripped down my back—my skin went to gooseflesh—and I froze. I gripped my spear tighter and lifted it up, pointing the tip into the darkness ahead.
“What is it?” Blip asked.
But I didn’t know. I’m not sure what caused the shiver. Just an assurance that something was wrong.
We took a step ahead, and I heard my own footfall.
I hadn’t heard my steps last time. Last time we entered, I had been listening to something else—the gentle purr of the cubs nuzzled against their mother.
There was no purring. I whispered, “I can’t hear the cubs.”
But quieter, less constant, were occasional grunts and snorts. Wet sounds. Violent.
We stepped slower. I was crouched, ready to leap.
The mismatched sounds of heavy breathing grew louder as we drew closer.
Then we entered the room—cautious and slow.
Hyenas.
There in the makeshift den, the hyenas had ambushed the tiger. The scene was ghastly. Blood was splattered across the walls. The three hyenas were ripping into the carcass of the tiger and the cubs. Near my feet was the body of one of the cubs. Its neck had been snapped, and there was already a large chunk of flesh ripped out of its body. The blood pulled around it, staining its orange fur into a brilliant crimson.
They had followed us. We had led them here when we first went in pursuit of the tiger. They had taken advantage of our tracking the tiger. In the wake of our mercy, they had shredded the young family. They couldn’t attack me. But there was nothing in their programming preventing them from stalking and killing other animals. There was still uncurbed nature in their DNA. Directed brutality without restraint.
I roared, “No!” and leaped, surprising the beasts. I was too fast for the first, and my spear went clean through the closest one, killing it with one stab. They were no threat to me. They couldn’t have attacked me. Wouldn’t have. But I didn’t care.
Blip flew in behind, yelling out, “Syn!” But I wouldn’t stop. I hated them! They had killed the mother and her cubs. They had massacred the animals.
And it was my fault. I had let the hyenas roam free because I didn’t think they were a threat. I had stalked the wrong creatures. I had led them here. It was my fault.
The second hyena barked and then charged, using my moment of landing as an opportunity. Perhaps it was defending itself. Or perhaps that bit of programming that prevented it from targeting me had melted away in the taste of the fresh kill. It would’ve worked—my spear was still lodged in the first one—but Blip was there, flying at full speed. His massive weight slammed into the side of the hyena as it jumped. The beast was flung against the wall, hitting it with bone-breaking cracks and an awful splat sound. It was dead on impact, but I’m just not sure which impact killed it—Blip’s charge or the wall.
Either way, two were down and one left. The third was smart, though. It had watched the other two and was now retreating, looking for a point to break and run. I put my foot on the body of the first hyena for leverage and pulled my spear out. Its tip was dripping in the beast’s blood. I turned toward the last hyena, and in response to its shrill cackling bark, I growled.
And I didn’t wait—I charged ahead. I feinted to the left, and the beast twisted to the right, exactly where I wanted it to. My spear arrived at the same moment it did, stabbing straight into the skull of the beast. It gave a final loud whimper as it died. Its eyes rolled back, and it vomited blood.
It was over. All three dead in seconds. I shook my spear free, and the hyena’s limp body ragdolled until it flopped off of the tip.
I roared—no words, just a primal scream of regret and fear and release.
I turned toward the body of the tigress and fell to my knees, landing in the pool of blood, and wrapped my arms around her huge head. Dead. She was dead. I cried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I had killed this beautiful creature. I had killed the only tigers on the ship. There would be no more tigers. At the same time, I realized there would be no more hyenas—I wanted to not care about them either, but I did. I was killing things, and I didn’t want to be a killer.
I buried my face in its blood-matted fur. “I’m sorry,” I whimpered.
Blip hovered near but stayed silent. He understood.
My tears dried out, and so did my words. I held the tigress’ head in silence for an unknown time. A great force had gone out of my world, never to return.
The silence stretched.
From somewhere in the room, from under some of the blankets and clothes, something moved—it was a shuffling sound and then a scratching against the floor.
I released the tiger and stood to attention. Was one of the hyenas still alive? We scanned around. Blip went full green in alert.
He whispered, “There. In the corner.” He was staring at a mound of blankets that was now rustling.
I counted the hyenas. They were all dead. A mouse perhaps? A rat?
And then my heart leaped in hope. Perhaps… I darted without caution to the blankets and pulled them off whatever was there.
A cub. The fat one. Still breathing, its eyes were searching frantically. I reached down for it, and it gave a sharp hiss that came out as a coughing growl. It bristled and pulled back. I bent and let it smell my hand as I examined it. There were no wounds. It had gone overlooked in the hyenas’ assault. It sniffed a few times and then took a cautious step toward me. I ran a hand through its fur and inside, I melted. One had survived.