Nowhere Land Page 9

  His daughter, hauling on the same rope, answered impatiently, Were trying to get up enough speed to pass the statue quickly.

  But why load these cannons?

  Jobs thinks . . . I mean, I think if were going to wander through a battleground wed better be able to shoot. Besides, the Meanies could be allies. Jobs and Violet did okay with that one Meanie back at the Tower of Babel. Maybe if we help them out theyll be grateful. Come on, next cannon.

  Do we really need more? Olga wondered. She was mopping her brow, sweat streaming. She was anxious, and not about the battle zone ahead. Her son had dived off the mast, presumably to go after Billy and Wylson.

  Jobs put a hand on her shoulder. Ms. Gonzalez, you know Mo. Hes unkillable.

  Olga tried to smile and failed. Jobs hid his own despairing expression from her.

  Come on, 2Face said harshly. Okay, D-Caf, release.

  D-Caf unwrapped the ropes holding the second cannons lashings.

  Okay, everyone together, 2Face called out, the willing cheerleader.

  She, Jobs, Anamull, Olga, and Shy all pushed against the massive cannon while Burroway and D-Caf steadied the ropes against the roll of the ship. After some trial and error on the first cannon trial and error that had come within inches of crushing Anamull theyd learned to compensate for the ships movement.

  The cannon moved by inches. Back, and tighten the rope, back, and tighten.

  Okay, pull out the plug thing, 2Face said when the cannon was far enough back.

  By the way, its called a tampion, I think, her father offered. The plug in the end of the cannon, to keep the water out? Tampion.

  Whatever, Dad. Okay, we need our powder cartridge.

  The canvas sack was shoved into the cannons mouth. Anamull, wielding the long rod, shoved it all the way down inside. Wadding went in next, then the heavy cannonball was rolled down the cannons barrel. Finally more wadding was rammed home.

  All of this took time. Lots of time, and when 2Face looked up from helping to restore the cannon to position, she saw that they were riding right into the thick of battle.

  The Blue Meanies continued to zoom and turn like slowed-down World War II fighter planes. They burned the Squids almost delicately, touching their jets to the creatures, which then would release their grip and fall into the sea.

  The Squids fought back with punches of transmuted matter. Up close it was fascinating to watch. The Squids seemed able to draw the very stone of the statue up into themselves in liquid form, spit it out, and suck it back in. It was like watching bullfrogs snapping at flies. Mostly they missed, but when they hit a Blue Meanie the result was shattering.

  Why are the Meanies so careful? 2Face wondered aloud. They have fléchette guns. They have missiles. No one answered.

  Something was definitely wrong about the scene. Something was too careful and deliberate in the way the Blue Meanies fought.

  Okay, we can do one more cannon, 2Face said. Lets go!

  Everyone groaned, but the groans were insincere. The battle was around them now, very close. The ship was ghosting forward, a weird intruder in a weird scene.

  Okay, haul it in, 2Face directed.

  Can we elevate the cannon enough to hit that bunch of squids there? Jobs wondered aloud as he shoved and heaved. Well be there, in line, in two minutes.

  It might earn us some big brownie points with the Meanies, 2Face said.

  You mean, like cavalry coming to the rescue? D-Caf asked, then imitated a bugle call before retreating into embarrassed silence.

  Pull out the tampion, 2Face ordered, with a rueful nod to her father.

  Shy Hwang snatched the plug out. Powder cartridge. Wadding. Ball. Wadding. Then everyone was hauling like mad to shove the tons of iron into position.

  Hows the slow match, Burroway? 2Face asked.

  Burroway held up what looked like a knot of rope, smoldering on one end.

  Dont forget, if we do shoot, these babies will come flying back on the recoil, Shy warned.

  The statue was so close now. The ship would pass it by, but it would be a close thing. It was a strange study in contrast, 2Face thought: the vast yet delicate ship, moving on the breeze, and the solid, immovable stone mass.

  A Squid aimed and fired a jet of matter, narrowly missing a Blue Meanie.

  And then, another Squid fired. Maybe it had been aiming at a Meanie, but the shot, the tongue of liquefied stone, hit the end of a mainmast yard. There was a startling crack, and the yard split down the middle.

  Okay, thats our excuse. Elevate the cannon, Jobs snapped.

  No easy task. The cannon could only be raised by inserting levers and forcing it up, inch by strained inch.

  Theyll come around in a few seconds, Burroway are you ready? Jobs asked.

  Are you all sure about this? Olga asked.

  No, Jobs admitted.

  Then, a voice from far above, Violet, up in the rigging. Dont shoot! I think

  But Jobs and 2Face both had already yelled, Fire!

  Burroway touched the slow match to the grainy powder in the touch hole.

  A flash, followed a split second later by an ear-numbing boom, and the cannon rolled back.

  The black ball could be clearly seen flying. It arched toward a cluster of Squids clinging to a low ledge. It arched toward them, missed by a dozen yards, and smacked into the statue itself, sending stone splinters flying.

  Cannon two, fire! Jobs yelled.

  A second huge explosion, a second ball flying, smacking the unaffected face of the statue.

  Reload! 2Face shouted. The explosions had an amazing effect on her. They had sent a thrill through her, top to bottom. She was galvanized, rushed, exalted. The sulfur smell of the powder was sweet.

  It had the same effect on everyone. Theyd suffered too long without being able to give anything back. A grin lit every face. Everyone jumped to reload the guns.

  But the explosions had also had a galvanizing effect on the other combatants.

  The Squids began to drop from the statue, drop straightaway into the sea.

  And the Blue Meanies turned, formed up together, and like a flock of birds all in formation, they attacked the ship.

  What are they doing? Shy asked.

  The first burst of fléchette fire caught Shy Hwang. And there was no way for him to have survived.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE IF YOU CAN KEEP YOUR HEAD WHILE ALL THOSE ABOUT YOU ARE LOSING THEIRS . . .

  2Face screamed and screamed and the sound echoed in Jobss head, melding with the whir of fléchettes and the huge bang of the cannon and the cries of fear and shock from all around.

  In a heartbeat the battle had shifted. Now the attack was on the Constitution . The Meanies zoomed past, firing fléchettes that chewed the railings and decks and masts like steel-jawed termites. Ropes parted, sails whipped loose.

  There was a blur of movement and Jobs saw Edward falling, falling from the main top and yelling, yelling. Jobs jerked forward, stretched his arms out to catch his little brother, but by sheer luck Edward snagged a trailing rope. He landed hard but not injured, aside from rope burns that bloodied his palms.

  2Face was still screaming. A burst of fire from a Meanies rockets burned a hole in one of the remaining sails. The sail was too wet to catch fire.

  A burst of fléchettes chewed a hole in the deck right before Jobss feet. He jumped back.

  What to do? What to do?

  Fire the remaining cannon? At what? They couldnt hit targets in the air.

  Tamara ran past, a blur. She flung herself down a hatchway, the baby in her arms.

  Tamara was running away! She had always fought the Riders, but in the face of this aerial attack from the Blue Meanies, she was diving for cover.

  Surrender! Yago yelled as he cowered behind the ships wheel.

  Jobs frowned. What?

  Hands up! Yago yelled. Everyone, hands in the air. Hands in the air. Get away from the cannons, you idiots!

  2Face still screamed, screamed as if shed never stop
.

  D-Caf threw up his hands. Burroway did the same.

  We surrender! We surrender! Yago kept shouting.

  Olga followed suit, hands in the air.

  Lie down, everyone down on deck, lie down, lie down, Yago bellowed. Show them we give up. We give up.

  The scream stopped abruptly. We cant give up! 2Face shrieked. Her scarred face was streaked with tears. There were strange, livid spots in the mottled flesh. The undamaged side of her face was a mask of rage.

  Theyll sink the ship, you idiot, Yago snapped. He was on his face, spread-eagled on the deck. Others were following suit. One by one, then all together at once.

  Jobs dropped to his knees, hesitated, then fell forward.

  Only 2Face stood defiant.

  The Blue Meanies drifted past, slowly, watching, mechanical eyes taking in the scene. The only sound was the muted roar from their maneuvering rockets.

  Jobs knew the Meanies could finish the job in a few seconds. The humans were all exposed. The ship was entirely at the mercy of the aliens who called themselves the True Children of Mother.

  Jobs hugged the deck and tried not to focus on the blood draining toward him.

  The Meanies turned like a flight of sparrows, formed up, and vectored away, back toward the statue.

  For a long time no one spoke, no one moved.

  At last, 2Face snarled, You can all get up off your bellies now.

  Jobs rose, shaky, to see that the Constitution had drifted past the statue. It was 100 yards past the statue where the Blue Meanies now perched, unchallenged.

  He moved to the larboard rail, stomach queasy, wanting to throw up. He stared back at the statue, took shaky breaths.

  The Blue Meanies were moving into a circle now, flying in slow, sedate fashion around the statue while a group of six or seven stood atop the monument. Those standing waved their tentacles, synchronized, stylized.

  Jobs was aware of Violet beside him. Look, she said.

  He nodded, not yet trusting his voice.

  Its something significant to them, Violet said. I think it may have religious significance. I had the feeling . . . before . . .

  Its just one of the statues, Jobs said. Its just part of the environment.

  Maybe not, Violet said. It means something to them. Watch them.

  Jobs saw it now, too late. Realized now what Violet had figured out a split second before the fateful cannon fire. Thats why the Meanies didnt use fléchettes or missiles to scare off the Squids. They didnt want to hurt the statue.

  We hit it with a cannonball.

  Yeah.

  Violet looked down at the water, now relatively peaceful. So much like a painting of a tranquil sea. Do you think my mom . . . I guess its possible shes not . . .

  Jobs wanted very much to cry and thought he might just do so. Mo was gone. Wylson, Violets mother, gone. Billy Weir, that strange boy, gone. Shy Hwang gone.

  If Mo was here, Id have him do the math, Jobs whispered.

  What?

  How many dead. In how much time. How many left. How long before the rest of the human race is dead, too. Mo could do the math.

  Looks like I saved our butts, Yago said, striding up as cockily as ever.

  Surrender, 2Face spit the word at him. Great plan, Yago.

  It worked, freak. Were alive. So how about, shut up, 2Face? Oh, and Im sorry for your loss.

  2Face looked like she might punch Yago. But then her fierce expression dulled and she looked down and away, and seemed to lose interest in everything but the distant horizon.

  Yago smirked. If you can keep your head while all those about you are losing theirs. . . thats a poem, isnt it? Right? Anyway, if you can keep your head while all about you are losing theirs, I guess youre the boss, Yago said contentedly.

  You want to be boss, Yago? Go right ahead. Boss of less and less, Jobs said. He felt sick and defeated. Beaten. If MoSteel was dead . . . Clean sweep, he thought bitterly, all except for Edward. Mom, Dad, Mo. Cordelia, back on Earth. The whole human race. A handful left alive, and that handful growing smaller and smaller.

  Tamara reappeared on deck. Her eyeless baby surveyed the wreckage and grinned its toothy grin.

  A mess, Tamara commented without real concern.

  Well fix it up, Yago said briskly.

  Tamara cocked her head and laughed to herself. So youre in charge now, Yago?

  Thats right, he said. I am.

  Yeah? Are you in charge of me , Yago?

  Yago swallowed and did not answer. Tamara sauntered away with the baby on her hip.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ARE YOU STILL A HUMAN BEING, BILLY?

  The ground opened and swallowed MoSteel. The bubble around his head was swept away by a swift current. Down and around, like he was traveling through a corkscrew. Around and around, pitch-black, smooth pipe walls swiping his butt and back.

  It was like the Pipe. Back before. The last really major rush hed enjoyed on Earth, right before the end.

  Yeah. That had been great. Of course, hed had air back there.

  Around and around and all at once he went flying, somersaulted, and landed hard and unprepared. He was faceup beneath a torrent of water. He rolled away and was facedown on a massively built grate.

  The water sluiced around him, past him, then stopped.

  MoSteel drew a few breaths, shallow and shaky. The light was dim and without obvious source, but was sufficient to see by. He was in a square room made all of black metal. The floor was a grate. Half a dozen pipes fed into the room, all dripping, none gushing anymore.

  Billy Weir sat, stunned, in the corner. Wylson Lefkowitz-Blake lay dead, or very close to it.

  MoSteel dearly wanted to rest but he levered himself up and went to Billy.

  You okay, Spacey?

  Billy blinked at him. Tamara. She threw me overboard.

  Yeah.

  Where are we?

  MoSteel shrugged. You got me. Down under that bogus ocean. Maybe its

  A metallic grinding noise, like a transmission in need of repair, interrupted his words. It stopped as suddenly as it started.

  Okay, MoSteel said guardedly. I was going to say maybe this is some sort of garbage disposal system.

  Billy nodded. That makes sense. Then he smiled his tentative smile. At least, I guess it does.

  The grinding noise came again. This time it was followed by a snapping, electrical sound.

  We should probably get out of here, if we can, MoSteel said. I hate to leave Wylson behind, though. But I guess we cant exactly bury her.

  She may not be dead.

  MoSteel winced. Man, I was afraid you were going to say that. He steeled himself for the inevitable, but MoSteel had a deep-seated dislike of dead things. The idea of having to take her pulse filled him with dread. He started toward her with reluctant, almost mincing steps.

  Wylson stirred and MoSteel jumped. Yah-ah!

  I think I did that, Billy said, almost a whisper.

  It took MoSteel a moment to consider that. Say what?

  Wylson jerked back, up off her face. She did not move like a person reviving. She moved like a person whod been yanked by invisible strings.

  Wylson hopped up off her knees, stood as wobbly as a marionette. Her head lolled forward on her chest, but then it came up, too, and slowly her eyes opened.

  She stared at nothing. She stared at nothing with nothing. The eyes did not track or focus.

  MoSteel crossed himself. Then did it again for good measure. What are you doing, Spacey Man?

  I can bring her with us.

  MoSteel heard a low, moaning sound and thought it came from his own throat. No, it was from outside. From beyond the featureless steel walls.

  It sounded human. Maybe. Or not.

  Again the snap of electricity.

  We need to get out of here, MoSteel repeated, unable to tear his eyes away from Wylson. She didnt breathe. The arteries in her throat did not pulse. Her eyes were dead.

  I dont see a door, Billy said.
>
  Yeah. Me, neither.

  Neither spoke as the snap of electricity outside gave way to what was surely the murmur of human speech.

  MoSteel looked hard at Billy Weir. Man, if you can do that . . . He nodded at Wylson. If you can do that . . . what else can you do?

  Billy looked at him with dark, troubled eyes. I dont know, Mo.

  Enough to scare Tamara and the baby, MoSteel said. Are you . . . are you still a human being, Billy?

  Billy shook his head very slightly. I dont know what I am, Mo. I dont know.

  K.A. APPLEGATE REMNANTS 5 Mutation THE MOST WE CAN DO IS OFFER A PRAYER .

  MoSteel got up and started to yell. Hello! Help! Whoever is out there, let us out of here!

  Billy Weir did not move. He could wait.

  Billy felt dizzy, drunk with the sights and sounds flooding into his mind and with the reactions of his body skin breaking out in a sweat and then cooling, heart beating faster and then more slowly, mind flitting from thought to thought like a kaleidoscope. Everything happening quickly, everything flowing together. No time to think, no time to sort real from unreal.

  Hang on! came a voice from outside. An adult man, Billy thought. Not an American. His voice had too much music in it. Were going to get you out.

  The door opened off to one side and light flooded in.

  Billy stayed in the shadows.

  MoSteel leaped out of the door and then took a fast step back. Whoa! he said, shaking his head in surprise.

  Two people were at the door A man. And another person, an extraordinary person. A person who looked like an illustration from Billys Encyclopedia Britannica .

  Billy remembered sitting on the floor of Big Bill and Jessicas bedroom and discovering the illustrations of MAN and WOMAN in the heavy, leather-bound p-book dating back to Jessicas own childhood.

  The figures were covered with layers of transparent pages. Turn the first filmy page and you removed MANs skin and exposed all that was underneath.

  This person standing before Billy looked like that illustration brought to life. Wherever his clothes left his flesh visible, his skin was transparent. Arms, neck, face, scalp.