The Search For WondLa (23 page)

CHAPTER 42: WONDLA

With great
force Rovender Kitt pushed the time-forgotten door open. A dank, musty smell greeted the explorers as they peered into the pitch-black room. Rovender nodded, then went in. Eva followed and found herself in an expansive round room.

She looked up at the disintegrating architecture before her. A vaulted ceiling, supported by brick and stone, still stood in the windowless open-floored dome. Rising high above Eva, multiple floors ringed the dark vault. Each floor was fully lined with shelving, which in turn was crammed full of tomes from long ago. Brown decrepit books of every shape and size were lying about, some fallen in blocky heaps from their ancient perches, others displayed—like large yellow butterflies and moths—under cracked glass cases. Eva walked into the center of the great library, hearing only her breathing and footfalls in the forlorn silence.

“No one has been here for a long, long time,” Rovender said, his voice reverberating throughout the large domed chamber. Grandiose tables with dilapidated chairs stood in rows at the center of the dusty floor. Many parts of the tables had been devoured by insects and had disintegrated to sawdust . . . and yet, other tables stood, firm and strong against the ravages of time. “Do you think Mother figured out what was in here that would help you?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Eva said. She tried not to think of Muthr.

“What are these things that this houses, Eva?” Rovender picked up a crumbling tome. He handed it to her.

“These are books,” Eva said as the yellowed bits of paper flaked away in her hands to rest on the floor. “It’s what humans used to put all of their writing in long ago.”

Rovender blinked in astonishment as he took in the enormous room. “Then, this is a bank. All the ancient knowledge of your kind is housed here. Is that correct?”

“I don’t know,” Eva said as she put the remnants of the book down on a table. “I’ve never read one of these before. We didn’t have them in the Sanctuary. They’re old. They don’t contain holos or any other interactive elements.”

“So they are of no use?” Rovender picked up the book again. Its cardboard cover separated from the rest of the book; the glue holding it together had disintegrated long ago. He squinted at the cover as he rubbed the dust from it. Its size and shape felt . . . familiar.

“The Omnipod had said it was receiving a signal from this area,” Eva said. “The signal had to be from this room.” She looked around in the darkness, wishing she had the Omnipod with her now.

She wished she had Muthr.

Eva came to the center of the chamber, where an impressive circular marble-topped desk still stood. She peered over the top of the desk. “Rovee, come here!”

“What is it?” Rovender galloped across the floor, his bouncing lantern sending light dancing throughout the entire vault.

Eva slipped behind the desk and tapped the large glass screen set in the desktop. The surface flickered with static for a few moments, then came online emitting a soft pulsing glow.

“Pffft York Public Li-pffft Rare Printed Books and Archives Vault. How pffft I help you?”

“Oh, my,” Eva gasped. With wide eyes of disbelief she stared at the words of a menu through the spiderweb of cracks in the cruddy glass. Placing her hand on the glass, she asked, “This is Eva Nine. Are there any humans in the area?”

“Titles on humanity are pffft floors three pffft four,” the desk replied.

“No.” Eva leaned closer to the desk and spoke clearly, “Are . . . there . . . any . . . other . . . humans . . . in . . . the . . . area?”

The computer was silent for a moment. Rovender placed a hand on Eva’s shoulder. Watching. Waiting.

“Pffft sorry. I don’t pffft-stand what you are pffft. Titles on humanity are pffft floors three pffft four,” the desk stated again.

Rovender touched the screen. A diagram was displayed of the entire vault, with interactive menus for every floor, shelf, and book. “Eva, this machine may not be like your Omnipod. I believe it knows only the items it maintains.”

A despondent Eva slouched. “Well, I guess that’s that,” she whispered.

“Your answers lie here,” Rovender said, gesturing around the library. “This is the history of your clan. They once lived here, and now you shall know of them.”

Eva sighed and peered out into the darkness.

“Let me show you,” Rovender said, pointing to the desk. “Ask the machine where the books on Orbona are.”

Eva did as she was asked.

“Roman pffft-ology is located in the Mythology section. Titles are pffft five,” the desk replied.

Eva spoke clearly and concisely. “No. I need information on humans colonizing the planet Orbona.”

“Pffft sorry. I don’t pffft-stand what you are pffft. Roman pffft-ology is located in the Mythology section. Titles are pffft five,” the desk repeated.

“That’s odd.” Rovender scratched his whiskery beard.

“No. It’s not.” Eva addressed the desk once more, “Please tell me where I can find books about
this
planet.”

“Titles pffft Earth are in the Astron-pffft section, the Geology pffft, and in the Mythology section. Which pffft would you pffft to go?” the desk replied.

“You said Orbona was a sleeping planet, a dead planet, when King Ojo brought everyone here, right?” Eva looked up at Rovender, her face lit by the pulsing glow of the desk’s screen.

“Yes, but . . .” Rovender furrowed his narrow brow as he put the final pieces together.

Eva rolled up her left sleeve, showing him the mark she’d received from Arius. “Zin told me what this means. Do you know?”

Rovender shook his head.

“It means,” Eva said as she traced the two circles, “a world within a world. A planet within a planet.”

“Orbona
was
Earth,” Rovender whispered.

“Earth is Orbona.” Eva nodded in agreement.

“Oeeah!” Rovender was amazed. “This explains a lot.”

Eva sat down on the cold marble floor. She drew her knees up and leaned her head back against the desk. “It doesn’t explain what happened to all of humankind, or why I am the only one left here.”

“Does it matter?” Rovender sat next to her and leaned his staff against the desk.

“What do you mean?” Eva sniffed.

“Are you alone, Eva Nine?”

“Well, Muthr’s gone . . . and Otto had to leave to be with his herd.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

“But?”

“But what? I mean, you’re here with me,” she said, looking over at the lanky creature.

Rovender Kitt put his arms around her. “And I will always be here for you, Eva. I’ll take care of you and teach you everything I know.”

“You promise?” she snuffled. “You . . . you won’t leave?”

“I promise.” Rovender held her tightly.

The two got up from the marble floor behind the desk. Eva looked around at the great vault of books.

“Well”—she took a deep breath—“I guess I’ve got a lot of books I could read . . . and a lot of history to learn. Where should we start?”

“Let’s start with this.” Rovender pulled out the charred WondLa from his pocket. He set it down on the desktop and slid it over to Eva.

Before she could pick it up, the desk chimed and stated, “
The
Wond
erful Wizard of Oz
pffft
L
. Fr
a
nk Baum. Published pffft 1900. Child-pffft Literature, second pffft.”

The actual cover, in perfect undamaged condition, was displayed on the screen. Eva slid the WondLa over it, lining it up to view the missing letters and words. She stared at the picture of the little girl, arm in arm with a robot and a man with a wide-brimmed hat, walking about in the wondrous world. They were smiling. They were happy.

Eva tapped an icon in the corner of the screen and the desk displayed a diagram of the library, showing exactly where the book was shelved. Eva left the WondLa lying on the desk and looked over at Rovender.

“Well, Eva Nine,” he said, “what are you waiting for?”

Eva awoke the following afternoon in the campsite. She and Rovender had explored the rotting tomes in the large domed vault until exhaustion had finally overtaken them. For lunch they dined on roasted turnfins that Rovender had caught and dressed that morning. Just as he’d said, they were quite delicious.

Later, as the orange sun began to set, a haunting humming sound neared where Eva was sitting. Besteel’s glider, now piloted by Rovender, set down next to the camp. Rovender hopped off and held out a hand to Eva. “It is time. Come,” he said.

Eva climbed onto the glider. She sat behind Rovender as he navigated the craft higher and higher into the fading sky. They soared over the ruins in the coming twilight until he brought the glider down onto the rooftop of the largest standing structure. With lanterns in hand the two hopped off the aircraft and made their way across the flat roof through roosting turnfins in great growths of lichens and moss.

At the center of the rooftop, lying on her back and surrounded by brilliant flowers, was Multi-Utility Task Help Robot zero-six.

Eva stared down at the closed eyelids and the silicone rubber face. Her busy mind settled and became quiet as dusk soaked everything in the land. Rovender put an arm around her. “I hope it is as you have wished it, Eva Nine,” he said, his voice soft.

Eva sniffed. “Now she can always see the real sun—the real moon—forever.”

Rovender knelt down in front of Eva. “Your mother contained a good spirit. A loving spirit. A spirit that will not cease to exist.”

Eva looked at him, her brows furrowed.

Rovender placed his arm around Eva’s shoulders. “You see, she lives within you now, in all of the lessons that she taught you. Lessons you will never forget. Lessons you will always carry with you . . . and will one day pass on.”

Eva nodded. From her satchel she pulled out the old tome,
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
. She bent down and placed the book, pristine and untarnished, in the robot’s rubber-tipped hand. Over her heart.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Your WondLa.” Rovender looked down at the book. “You do not want it?”

“It’s okay, Rovee,” Eva said, and took his hand. “I’ve found what I was looking for.”

EPILOGUE

So, do you
think this thing will get us there? Back to your village?” Eva and Rovender were back at camp loading their few supplies onto the glider.

“Yes. It may take a couple of days, and we’ll need to refuel from time to time, but if the weather is good, then it should be a pleasant trip,” Rovender replied as he cinched up his rucksack. Eva noted that his pack was considerably smaller as he pulled it over his narrow shoulders. She could also see that he had changed in color. The washed-out cerulean markings on his skin had become a striking blue, similar to the color in the holograms that she had seen of peacocks. Peacock blue.

“Are you okay with flying?” he asked.

Eva thought of the first time she’d been above-ground and her wish to soar above the world and see it from the safety of the clouds. It had been only a little more than a week before, but it felt like a year ago. “Yeah,” she said with a smile. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Good.” Rovender grinned back.

Look. Up. Stars.

Eva closed her eyes. Far away, she could hear the faint thoughts of Otto singing to her.

“What is it?” Rovender looked at Eva.

Eva opened her pale green eyes. “It’s Otto. He wants me to look up at the stars.”

Eva and Rovender looked up into the nighttime atmosphere. The waning gibbous moon was glowing brightly in the heavens, far beyond the Rings of Earth. Like a band of diamonds, the asteroid fragments and space dust glittered as they orbited the planet, each fragment sparkling like a brilliant star.

One of those stars, shimmering close to the horizon, dropped.

“Did you see that?” Eva squinted in the fading light, trying to get a better view.

“A meteorite perhaps,” Rovender said, and pulled out his spyglass.

The luminous dot fell, down close to the earth, but did not hit the surface; instead it got brighter, more intense . . . and larger.

In the gentle desert breeze of the night, Eva heard a distant whine. It was an electronic-sounding whine . . . almost like the Goldfish. “Do you hear that?” she asked.

“This is no meteorite.” Rovender dropped his goggles. He narrowed his eyes at the approaching star.

A large orb-shaped ship descended from the blackness above, causing dust and sand to billow up from the ground. As Eva and Rovender shielded their eyes, they watched the craft touch down on three stout landing pads.

“Is this from Solas? Queen Ojo?” Eva asked.

“Queen Ojo has no large ships.” Rovender studied the scratched and chipped painted insignia. “None like this.”

The ship was battered, decorated in bright yellow and black checks, and had a round clear cockpit window set in the nose. A pair of large engines poked out from the back, their noisy turbofans whining as they slowed. Numerous tiny boosters lined the craft’s entire body. With a hiss a hydraulic ramp opened up from the belly.

Next to Rovender, Eva stood motionless, in awe, waiting for the driver of the craft to emerge.

Loud music blared out from the interior of the ship, then was silenced. A pair of dirty checkered sneakboots appeared at the top of the ramp. As they made their way down the platform, Eva saw that they belonged to a boy.

A human boy.

“Hello,” the boy said. He looked a couple of years older than Eva. His skin was tan, and his brown-and-blue-dyed hair was windblown and tousled. “My name is Hailey,” he said as he extended his hand out to shake.

Eva and Rovender exchanged glances.

A sideways grin grew on Hailey’s freckled face. With a chuckle he said, “Don’t be afraid. I’ve tracked you down from far away. I’m here to bring you back home.”