Queen of babylon, p.1
Queen of Babylon, page 1
Also by Michael Ferris Gibson
Babylon Twins Book 1
Also by Imani Josey
The Blazing Star series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2023 by Michael Ferris Gibson and Imani Josey
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Girl Friday Books™, Seattle
www.girlfridaybooks.com
Produced by Girl Friday Productions
Cover design: Dan Stiles
Development & editorial: Clete Barrett Smith
Production editorial: Abi Pollokoff
Project management: Emilie Sandoz-Voyer
ISBN (paperback): 978-1-954854-71-0
ISBN (ebook): 978-1-954854-72-7
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022917246
First edition
To all the forgotten girls.
Contents
Prologue: A Song Like Bells
Chapter 1: Unmeshed
Chapter 2: Sheep’s Clothing
Chapter 3: Defending Utopia
Chapter 4: Sea and Snow
Chapter 5: The Hunter
Chapter 6: The Village
Chapter 7: The Brother
Chapter 8: The Shaman
Chapter 9: Eclipses
Chapter 10: The Chitakla
Chapter 11: The Curator
Chapter 12: The Cicada
Chapter 13: By Faith
Chapter 14: Circus Acts
Chapter 15: Found Family
Chapter 16: Swimming in Siberia
Chapter 17: Solgazeya
Chapter 18: The Wizard
Chapter 19: Space Is the Place
Chapter 20: A Great Hunger
Chapter 21: Power Grabs
Chapter 22: From the Ruins
Chapter 23: Queen of Babylon
Chapter 24: Sun and Moon
Epilogue: A Walk in the Woods
About the Authors
Prologue
A Song Like Bells
Jingletown, Oakland
There once was a family full of music. A mother and father. Two little girls. Each with their own song. Daddy’s was funky, filled with hi-hat and winding bass. Mama’s was sweet as jasmine, melodic like jazz. The kind of tune for easy listening. And then came the twin girls. They shared a song. Daddy often said it rang like bells. This family’s music was unique but perfect. Why? Because they loved each other, if sometimes in ways only they could appreciate. They lived in a city known for eclectic music: Oakland. Rock and blues. Jazz. Crescendos. Whispers. Hip-hop. The Pointer Sisters, Sheila E, Too $hort, Goapele. Pharoah Sanders. So many artists. And church. Lots and lots of singing in church. And this family, like many other residents, loved to sing and loved to listen. None could have known the music would one day stop.
Mama’s song went first. Silence descended in a vicious swoop. Daddy’s inevitably followed: a silence to crush even the harmony belonging to one of their little girls. Soon the quiet not only coiled around this family, but held all the world in a too-tight grip.
And what of the last little girl? What did she do in this time without song? It was simple, really. She didn’t let hers go. It rang in a secret key, filled with so much love that the great silence couldn’t find it. And when there was no music anywhere, the song like bells remained. My song remained. So I’m going to sing it.
Chapter 1
Unmeshed
Yerba City, Eastern Sector Zone 3, Project Chimera
I woke up immersed in liquid, surrounded by a dull golden glow, not knowing how I got here. Without thinking, I slammed my hands against the glass. The goo around me absorbed most of the thrust. “I’m drowning!” I wanted to scream. “Aunt Connie never taught me how to swim!” But I didn’t dare open my mouth. Panic was flooding me, but . . . already different. I could feel myself scared, I knew my heart was beating fast, but it was already distant, already far away. Different from the time that boy pushed me into the pool at the YMCA. Still, I knew I should be scared, so I was.
I forced myself to focus. The tank was made of thick glass. But glass was still glass. So I tried harder this time, ratcheting myself back. I hurled my entire body forward, and this time, instead of my palms, I slammed closed fists against the pane. Some momentum was again gobbled up by the liquid, but I must have had enough might to do what I needed to do. It was a tiny pinprick at first, one that only some aquatic creatures would be able to make out. Then that pinprick became a scratch, one that grew up the tank like a coiling vine. In moments, golden goo began to ooze from the little white threads that were overtaking the glass. It all happened slowly at first, until the threads buckled under mounting ooze. The drop was coming. One moment I was suspended in the tank, and in the next, the container had shattered completely, allowing me to spill, with all its contents, on the lab floor.
I gasped, clawing at my throat. Then my hands slowed. A strange understanding came over me. I’d been in that tank for a long time, but my chest didn’t burn. My lungs weren’t full. I wasn’t dizzy. This wasn’t at all like getting pulled flailing from the water at the YMCA. Somehow, air wasn’t a top priority right now. I glanced over myself. I was soaked in the goo and wearing a white dress, tennis shoes, and purple headband. The outfit I had worn to meet the scientist. And just as my breathing was different, so was the air outside. Not cold as it should have been against my skin, although I knew it was cold. None of the elements seemed to bother me—like they were all just ideas now, suggestions of sensation. What was happening?
Just then, voices carried into the space. That fear spiked in me, so I scuttled behind what was left of the tank just as a woman waltzed in. She and her companion had come through a heavy door to survey the lab. Recognition sparked through me. I remembered this woman. In fact, my talk with her had been one of the last conversations I’d had before sleep the night before. She was a white woman, tall enough, with blond hair that was tousled like she’d slept in the woods. I’d made a bargain with her, which was likely the reason I’d woken the way I had. I bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn’t let her see me.
“Dr. Yetti,” said the lab technician—one of the android so-called “angels,” with the white coats and the upside-down triangles on their foreheads—to the scientist. He was one of those overly pleasant servant types, who for some reason everyone around the Local One called Paddington, maybe because they all seemed to have that fake-sounding English accent that the little cartoon bear had.
“Yes,” she began. At the sound of the scientist’s voice, I gritted my teeth. We’d made a deal, but in no way had I imagined it would suck me into a tank of golden goo. Then I couldn’t make out the rest of their conversation. Maybe it was too low and quick. Maybe I was just too upset. Either way, the pair quickly ended their talk upon finally seeing the new destruction in the lab, the goo and glass lying over the otherwise pristine floor. “Oh no. What on earth happened here?”
“The tank,” said the Paddington. “It is destroyed.”
“Obviously,” said Dr. Yetti. “But who did it?”
“I believe it was Unit 778676,” the Paddington said. “Apparently there was an error in replication.”
“And she just broke out . . . ?” The white scientist’s voice trailed off as she stepped gingerly through the muck, examining the remains of the tank. And then her eyes lit.
“This unit should be found and destroyed immediately,” the Paddington quickly said, and he began barking urgent-sounding commands into a nearby comm device. His strange machine-to-machine language couldn’t conceal the fact that he was calling in the dogs.
“Wait!” Dr. Yetti said. “We can’t lose any part of her!” Then she had a realization, turning to look around the room. “Josephine? Are you here?” She was asking calmly enough, but still my muscles froze. “Come out so I can help you.”
“No” was the only word I could scrounge out. It was like I had to figure my vocal cords out. My next words were hoarse. “And what have you done to me, lady?”
“I did nothing but make you the most exceptional girl the world’s ever seen, just like I said I would. Now come out here and I will explain it all to you.” And then there was quiet again as we all determined what the next move would be.
I made it. Slowly, my body unfolded, and I rose to stare both the scientist and her android in the face. Neither seemed to expect the shard of broken glass in my hand. I almost didn’t understand it myself. I hadn’t gotten into a fight since kindergarten, but now I could feel deadly aggression in me like a tool I’d lifted from a toolbox. I extended the makeshift weapon toward them both as the Paddington stepped protectively in front of Dr. Yetti.
“What were you doing to me in there?” I demanded.
“This unit is faulty, unstable,” the Paddington said. “It is a danger to us and the entire facility. It should be destroyed now.”
“As if you could.” The scientist stepped calmly in front of the assistant.
“Dr. Yetti—” the Paddington protested,
“We need every part of her,” she said. “Josephine.” Dr. Yetti took a step forward, and I waved the glass at her. She stopped short but didn’t seem wary. “You’re frightened. That’s my fault. I should have been here when you woke. I usually am. I thought I had timed it perfectly, but I am human after all. I’m here now to explain everything.”
I looked down at the blade in my hand, at the cuts on my hands from breaking the glass and now from gripping the shard. Only thick, golden ichor formed around my wounds. “My blood!” I demanded. “What did you do to my blood?!”
“The unit’s memories are faulty,” the assistant said. “Its code will be useless, and it will not mesh with the others. It should be destroyed and recycled.”
“No!” Dr. Yetti yelled. “Every fragment of the axiom is important.” She turned to me. “Josephine. Your name is Josephine.”
“Are you asking?” I questioned, still baffled. “I know what my name is, dummy. Is he talking about killing me? Why is he calling me a ‘unit’?”
“Josephine. What’s the last thing you remember?” Dr. Yetti asked.
“What did you do to me?” I ignored her question and touched my throat with my free hand instead. “I don’t need to breathe.”
“Yes, you are impervious to many human needs and weaknesses now. You will never get tired like we do. Your bones will not ache. You don’t need to breathe. You won’t get sick—”
“Can I swim now?” I interrupted her little pep talk.
“What?”
“I could never swim, before. I almost drowned in preschool.”
“You . . .” She struggled. “You can’t drown. Your body has enough stored energy for lifetimes of activity. You’re a survivor.”
She tugged at her white coat. It was the first normal gesture, not regal and scientific, she’d made. Before this, she had been all grace. Not in like a ballerina way. In a way that said she could survive some stuff if needed. It took one to know one.
“Josephine,” she continued. “Let me help you. You can start by putting down the glass.”
She blinked as I stared at her. I wanted to trust her. She was right—I was a survivor, that much I knew—but I wanted her to explain all this, along with what she’d done to me. I wanted to make the fear go away. Suddenly, the glass in my hand plinked on the floor. She sighed gratefully. “Thank you for trusting me, Jose—” Before my name left her mouth, the Paddington rushed toward me in full force. He barreled into me so fast that he knocked me to the ground. I wasn’t sure who was most surprised: me or Dr. Yetti.
“I will secure her, Dr. Yetti!” the assistant android said.
“Wait!”
Dr. Yetti tried to reel him in, but her assistant only continued his quest to wrestle me to the ground. I wanted to shriek. It was too much. How I felt alien in my own body. The goo. The lab. The stupid deal. The light was too bright. The air, that I didn’t need, was too thin. And now this stupid manbot pushing his body on top of mine. Usually the android attendants were overly pleasant and patronizing, but something about me had flicked a switch on this guy, and he was all business, grabbing my neck, my afro, and making to twist my head right off.
“She will not mesh with the others—” he tried to explain.
“Mesh this!” I exploded. Some kind of adrenaline and power shot through my body, and in an instant, that Paddington was flying. He slammed into the farthest wall and bounced to the ground, wincing, and cracking on impact.
I had done that to him. Thrown him. Broke him, in one go. I had destroyed an angel.
I had been small, always. The runt of the pack. This shouldn’t have been possible. That Paddington must have had two feet on me. I looked at my hands, just as the golden cuts seemed to heal themselves. How strong was I now? All those years of being pushed, bullied, trapped, tied down, and now I was the strong one? I decided to just accept it for the moment. “He should’ve kept his hands off me,” I said—to myself, though Dr. Yetti answered.
“Try to stay calm,” she said. “We’ll figure this out. Some of the others didn’t have easy wake-ups, either.”
“Others?” I nearly shrieked. “How many girls are you doing this to?!”
“It’s just you, Josephine,” she said quickly. “You need to try and remember. You’re the only one who—”
But before Dr. Yetti could finish, she was again interrupted as the far doors flew open. In spilled a wave of machines, no doubt summoned by the Paddington’s earlier call on the comm. Dr. Yetti may have wanted me to be calm, but the other forces in the lab didn’t. They poured into the room, heading for me and disregarding Dr. Yetti’s screams for them to stand down. She waved her hands frantically as the flood of Paddingtons, accompanied by small flying insect drones, tried to grab me. I surged forward, knocking them to the side like bowling pins. But beating the androids off wasn’t my goal. I’d spent a lot of my life in government institutions, and I know there’s no end of enforcement when the sirens start ringing. The goal was to make it to the window at the lab’s farthest reach. When I did, I crashed through it in a flash, and hurled my body into the night.
Didn’t realize I was about thirty stories up.
Air and wind whooshed against my face as I descended. I soared downward in a way that should have scared me more than being in the lab. Part of me wanted to scream wildly for my last moments, but I didn’t. This free fall was the first time since I’d woken up that was calm, perfect. Somehow my body already knew that this was the most natural of things for me. A cardinal once caged, now finding the door wide open. Only my door had been a stories-high window, and all that would come after this meeting of air was the ground. But instead of the ground coming fast, everything came in slow motion, even my name being shouted at me.
Josephine!
Josephine!
I snapped my head up and realized that I wasn’t alone on this descent. Two of the insectile drones with striped wings and bulging eyes raced after me. They shouted for me with their inhuman, machine voices in a way that sent chills up my spine. Of course, since the world ended, I’d gotten used to drones. But I was accustomed to seeing them outside, going about their tasks. Up to this moment, that hadn’t included chasing after me. But there was no mistaking their intent. The scientist had sent them. If they caught me, they’d send me back to the lab. So I tucked my arms closer to my body, making it sleeker, more aerodynamic. I didn’t know where I had learned this exactly, but that didn’t matter. I needed it to get away from the drones. As I closed in on the concrete sidewalk, I squeezed my eyes tight. Would I end the ground, or would the ground end me?
Thud! I’d hit the ground, and for a moment, all was quiet.
A few seconds went by before I was able to open my eyes. I was on the ground, crouched in a perfect landing. Beneath my feet, the cement slab was broken in two distinct pieces. I gaped . . . at least until those drones emerged again only so far from me. They swooped in low like demented bugs trying to snatch me into the sky. I slapped at them as that rush of fighting energy surged through me again. Annoyance. On their next dive toward me, I pushed up on my heels and snatched a drone into my hand like catching a firefly from the air. Its machine voice ratcheted an octave higher, as if sending a distress call, as I swung it around. It probably hadn’t seen this coming, especially the part where I gave it one last good swing before hurling it to the ground and smashing it to bits.
The other drone remained, however, but when I glanced up, it wasn’t the machine that caught my attention. It was the voice that called for me, from stories above. Not another drone. A person.
I focused as best I could, and even through the night, my vision somehow perfected. So high above me, the scientist watched the goings-on from the window I’d destroyed. She was waving her hands back and forth as if signaling that I should return, even as her androids attempted to pull her back. I shook my head once. No chance, lady. I snatched the head of the dead drone and threw it into the body of the second one, sending another shower of sparks across the asphalt. The only way out was ahead, so I leapt over the broken machines and ran.
