Authors: Lynne Matson
Nil Unlocked (35 page)
Skye was solid, Skye was
real
. She was fully alive in this world packed with death.
I didn’t want to let go.
“You’re wet,” she finally said. Her lips tickled my chest.
“I took a quick dip in the Cove. Nothing pretty about being Search dirty,” I said.
And I had to wash off the feel of death.
Reluctantly I pulled away from Skye. Dex’s and Jason’s eyes flicked to the extra satchels; I had brought back three. Alone.
“Pari made it,” I said. “Raj didn’t. It sucked. Nil understatement.” I exhaled slowly. “I never want to go through that again.”
I can’t
.
I looked at Skye. “We’ve got to find that gate. Please tell me Paulo’s been talking. Please tell me he’s given up something.”
“He has,” Skye said thoughtfully. “Especially the past few days. I think he trusts me, and I think he feels obligated by the City hospitality.”
“Good,” I said sharply. I was jealous of the time he’d spent with Skye. Here, in the City, away from the death and danger and ghosts lurking behind every rock.
“But”—Skye pursed her lips—“it’s like cracking a coconut. Not impossible, just really hard. But one thing I’m certain of is that the number sequence is tied to the stationary gate. How often it appears, maybe when.” She looked at me. “Any luck with Maaka?”
“None.” I sounded as frustrated as I felt. “The only sign of him was the addition of the word
NIL
to the carving at the Cove tunnel entrance.”
“Well, that’s a huge help.” Skye’s frustration matched mine. “We already know where we are, we’re trying to
leave
.”
Jason was putting the gliders back into the Shack, humming.
“Are you hungry?” Skye asked.
“Yeah. But first I have to carve for Raj. Special request.” At the Wall, I carved the Hindu symbol Pari had shown me for Raj, then a crisp check for Pari.
I couldn’t help looking at my name. No scar yet on the Wall for me. But the spaces around mine were filling fast.
With a start, I realized I had Priority now. I had fifty days left or it would be me burning on the beach.
Skye gently touched my back. “You okay?”
No.
“Yeah,” I said, turning. “Just thinking of Nil truth number one.”
“Oh really?” She smiled, her eyes radiating more blue than green in the late daylight. “And what is that?”
“Time here flies faster than you’re ready for.”
She placed both hands on my chest. “You’re going to make it, Rives. We’re going to find that gate, and you’re going home. That’s
my
Nil truth number one.”
Maybe a wish
, I thought, feeling the heat of Skye’s hands on my skin,
but not a truth.
On Nil, wishes were as fragile as time.
SKYE
DAY 39, AFTERNOON
Rives back from Search was even more intense. He kept looking at me as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.
No
, I thought,
he keeps looking at me like I might disappear
. After what he’d described with Raj and Pari, I couldn’t blame him. But I didn’t know what to say.
Instead, I told him Paulo’s family history.
He listened carefully as I recounted every conversation with Paulo in detail, leaving nothing out, hoping Rives might make sense of something I missed. When I was done, Rives looked thoughtful.
“So what do you think?” I asked.
A long moment passed before Rives answered.
“I think Paulo trusts you,” he said finally, “and I think his broken leg was a seriously lucky break for us, as shitty as that sounds. I think he might end up being our best hope for finding the stationary gate. And I think we only have about three weeks more of his time, because when he can walk, I think he’s gonna bolt.”
Three weeks.
We had less time than I thought.
RIVES
DAY 315, DUSK
The remnants of the City crowded around the firepit.
No sign of Paulo. He was sulking or hiding in his hut. I didn’t know, and I sure as hell didn’t care. The fact that he only talked to Skye made it clear he felt no loyalty to the City that helped him, and my guess was that his fledgling loyalty to Skye had serious limits—all of which hinged on his broken leg.
“City’s shrinking,” I commented. “And the Search was weird from the start. Never saw Michael and his crew, never saw a rookie or a raider. And both the inbounds I saw had no riders.”
“Odd,” Dex said. “Puts the nil in Nil, doesn’t it?”
Beside me, Skye stared at the fire, lips tight. Wheels turning. “What does Nil even mean, really?” She turned and pointed to the Wall, where
NIL
ran across the top in all caps.
“Now I’m Lost?” Jillian said, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “That’s what Charley joked once.”
“Next In Line?” Ahmad asked, tossing a stick on the fire. “No one Is Laughing?”
“That’s four words, Big A,” Zane said. “I DQ that entry.”
“Noon Is Lunch?” Dex offered, his eyes sliding to me. “It was for the grizzly, if my memory serves.”
“How about Naked Island Luau?” Zane grinned as Jillian chucked a piece of pineapple at him. He caught it in his mouth and pointed at Jillian as he winked. “A dude can hope.”
“I vote for Need Instant Lasagna,” Dex said. “I’m so bloody sick of seafood. When I get back, I’m going on a completely unhealthy pasta and biscuit binge.”
“I’ve got it.” Zane snapped his fingers. “Now Introducing Llamas.” When I shot him a get-serious look, Zane laughed. “What? I saw one last week. I mean, it might’ve been a camel, but I’m pretty sure it was a llama, Chief.”
“Alpaca,” Jason muttered.
“Nobody Is Leaving?” Kiera asked.
“No,” I said. “People leave. People make it.” I heard the fierceness in my voice and forced myself to dial it down. “We definitely can leave, and get home.”
“Near Is Light?” Macy said thoughtfully, her voice Macy calm, Macy smooth. “With
light
meaning understanding?”
“I don’t think it means anything,” Jason said, shrugging. “Nil, nada. Nothing. I think it’s because we’re here, stuck in a place that doesn’t exist, that no one knows about.”
“But people do,” Skye said quietly. “Some people definitely know.” Her eyes caught mine.
“But when we’re here, it’s like no one can hear us,” Jason said, frustrated. “Like we’re just—lost.”
“That’s it!” Zane exclaimed. “Nobody Is Listening!”
Oh, Nil’s definitely listening
, I thought. My fists clenched. Then I stiffened, feeling eyes heating my back. Nil wasn’t the only one listening tonight.
“Be right back,” I told Skye.
I got up, turned around, and strode toward the Naming Wall. Behind it, Maaka stood motionless like a living ghost.
“Hasn’t anyone told you eavesdropping is rude?” I forced myself to stay calm. I needed to stay calm because Maaka’s eyes spewed fire.
“Nil.” Maaka spat the word. “You have taken it as your own, put it on a wall, but you do not even know what it means.” Disgust dripped from his tone like acid.
“People have taken it,” I said slowly, “because they’re desperate to make sense of this place. To give it a name gives us desperately needed power over our situation.”
“Power?” Maaka’s eyes flashed. He took a step toward me, his entire body vibrating with thinly restrained fury. “You seek
power
? It is power that led to the disruption of this place. It is power that led you here. Your people were tempted to harness power they should not. They unleashed a power they did not understand.”
I stood my ground and crossed my arms, keeping my shoulders loose. “What are you talking about?”
“Seventy years ago,
haoles
began testing devices in the islands. Devices that unleashed the fires of hell. Many islanders were forced from their homes, their islands. The
haoles
made promises they could not keep, because they did not understand the power they were trying to control.
“For months, weapon after weapon was dropped from the air. Weapons that boiled the sea and made mushroom clouds in the sky. Weapons that melted skin off men’s faces.”
Maaka closed his eyes. “Horrible stories returned to our island,” he whispered. “Tales that we could not believe. But the tales went beyond the men. The tales went beyond
us
.” Maaka opened his eyes and looked at me.
“One spring and summer, bombs rained down on the islands for days. Even on our most sacred days. Those were the seasons when unnatural energy filled the air and sea.”
Reaching down, he picked up Nil dirt and let it fall through his fingers. “Energy fuels this island. And energy disrupted it. During that time, an elder’s son saw the portal tear. He was on Spirit Island, and he watched it happen. It shimmered and fractured and a layer ripped away, a layer thinner than the gate itself. And it kept going, flying faster than the wind, wild and unstable. Then he watched the portal tear again. Another layer peeled away from the whole, and then the layer split, like the
haoles
had split the atom. The layers slowed but kept going. Both of them. He was alone, but he claims it to be the truth. It frightened him enough that he chose not to go through the doorway. He believed the spirits were angry. Despite the shame of not seeking his path, he returned home. He died soon after.”
Maaka looked at the stars. “There are other stories, too,” he whispered, “stories with many witnesses. Many say in March of that spring, all of Spirit Island glowed as bright as the sun. That glistening light streaked off in all directions, like the sun came to the earth that day. And then all the streaks came back to Spirit Island at once and disappeared. And the island stayed darker than night.”
He lifted his eyes to the Nil sky. “I do not know what stories of those are true. But I do know one truth.” Now he looked at me. “One of your bombs was dropped on a sacred day. A day when the sun shines the longest and its power is great, when the barrier between the worlds is the most fragile. And it was on that June day when the elder witnessed the portal fracture and fracture again. And”—his voice turned bitter—“it was
haoles
who dropped the bombs. It was
your
people who angered the island spirits. You have brought this place upon yourselves.”
I stood mute, processing the informational bomb Maaka had just dropped on me.
Spirit Island. Nuclear testing.
Nil.
Maaka stepped back, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Thank you for caring for Paulo. Your sacrifice was great.” Then he strode away.
“Maaka!”
He reluctantly turned back.
“So what does NIL mean?”
He shook his head slightly. “That is your word.” He stood, visibly wrestling with his answer, then he sighed. Slowly, he bent and drew the letters
NIL
in the sand, with a vertical arrow pointing toward the sky.
“
N
stands for the beginning, where
we
begin. Low, on the ground—even the shape of the letter itself holds meaning, as does the word it stands for.” He murmured an unfamiliar word I didn’t catch. “The
I
,” he continued, his tone resigned, even tired, “is both a line, symbolizing travel—a singular direction if we are on the right path seeking knowledge and peace—and yet it is also a single
I
, to symbolize each person. The individual nature of the journey. And the
L
is
lani
, the sky, the heavens. Where we aspire to be, where all knowledge flows to and from. It is the everything.” He paused, his eyes pained. Deeply hurt.
“These letters do not symbolize
nothing
,” he whispered. “These letters, they mean
everything
.” He turned and walked away.
The sky.
It is the everything.
And now Skye was on Nil, a girl connected to Nil in unexpected ways, a girl whose name meant everything. A girl with the power to
destroy
everything.
Or save it.
SKYE
DAY 39, NIGHT
Rives stood behind the Wall of Names—
the Naming Wall
, I quickly corrected myself—staring at the woods.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He spun around, his expression one of disbelief. “Tell me again what Paulo told you about the seasons.”
Slowly, carefully, I recounted that key conversation with Paulo, only this time I added my conclusion. “So, the numbers, three-two-one-four? They relate to the seasons. My guess is that the stationary gates open at set times, and only those times.”
“I think you’re dead on.” Rives’s voice was tight. “You arrived on the Winter Solstice. You realize that, right?”
I shook my head, feeling ridiculously stupid. How had I missed that?
“Maaka just told me an interesting story. It seems that the Americans dropped nuclear weapons on Spirit Island, on the exact day of the Summer Solstice.”
“The day that the sun is directly overhead,” I said. “At its highest point.”
“Exactly. At noon.” Rives swallowed. “Apparently on that day, the doorway between the worlds is both at its most powerful and most fragile, and when the Americans dropped atomic bombs that June day, the portal fractured. Layers ripped away. Hence, the wild portals that roam the Earth.”
“Holy crap,” I said. I pictured bombs dropping, gates tearing. Collateral damage no one dreamed was happening, damage that lingered to this day. A World War Two legacy, glittering in the sun like an invisible ghost, one that snatched modern-day kids without regard to race, country, or creed.
For a long moment we stood there, not speaking. My mind spun and worked, trying to make all the Nil pieces fit.
Then I frowned. “But my stationary gate was at midnight.”
“On the shortest day,” Rives said. “I already thought about that. It’s got to be a counterweight. Even the sacred days have a balance to stay in stasis, I think. So the Winter Solstice portal opens at midnight; the Summer Solstice one opens at noon.”
