The Mantis Synchronicity - Book Five - 4. Chapter 4 - Djaruki

On the island of Philletri off the coast of the nation of Phanisia, a young woman was thinking about the giant, Ogomo. The woman’s name was Djaruki. She had seen Ogomo when his gargantuan ship was docked at Philletri. Djaruki had been born and lived her whole life on the island, and she wished she could have left with the giant. She was secretly one of the others, and she knew the moment she saw him that Ogomo was one as well.

Djaruki’s entire life, she had seen what the Phanisians did to youths who were something other than human, and Biological Shifts had been the cruel citizens’ primary targets. The people did not refer to Shifts or Biological Shifts by those terms, and Djaruki only knew the slurs used for her kind.

Of course, no one had dared to bother the giant while he was on Philletri. Besides his enormity, he also spent a lot of gold during the stay, and he was soon gone again. Djaruki heard many of her friends and family members say horrible things about him after his ship had set back out to sea.

Summer was approaching, and even with the breeze off the ocean, summers on Philletri were miserable. The sun blazed down for many months every year, and shade on the island provided little relief.

Djaruki always liked considering the idea of leaving the island and the nation of Phanisia, but everything she knew was there. The only friends she had ever made were there. Her family was there. However, Djaruki’s friends and family did not bring up the warmest feelings in her. They often spoke down about the others, unaware one among them was a Shift.

Seeing the giant, and then being powerless but to watch him leave, was what it took for the plan to solidify in Djaruki’s mind. She was going to leave the land of Phanisia. Without telling a single person, she packed a bag with her few possessions and bartered passage on a ferry to the mainland. The short trip took less than an hour, and Djaruki began to walk. She wanted to find someplace new, and she headed west along the coast. She could not hope to find the giant, but Djaruki believed there was someplace in the world where she belonged.

For two weeks, she trudged toward the unknown, occasionally graced with rides in the backs of other travelers’ wagons, until the road eventually turned north. Djaruki stopped to ask a passing peddler why the path did not continue farther west, and she was informed that she had reached the edge of the Phanisian nation. Once the peddler with his cart of trinkets was out of sight, Djaruki began to make her way out into the wilderness. She was leaving Phanisia behind, and she did not know if what lay beyond was part of another nation, or simply unsettled territory.

Djaruki continued to follow the coast, and most of what she ate, she was able to catch from the sea. She came across a single apple tree, but its fruits were tiny and still required months to grow and ripen. Another two weeks passed of continuous walking, and fishing in the evenings for her food, before the land began to turn north. The sea became calmer, and from time to time, Djaruki could see other landmasses far across the rolling waves, but there was no indication if what she was seeing were islands or more of the mainland. She never found out.

Mountainous peaks began cresting and stretched above the northern horizon, and as Djaruki continued toward them, they were revealed to be the southern border of a vast and impassible mountain range. She soon realized she would not be able to follow the coast much farther. Where the sea extended beyond the final beach, dizzyingly high cliffs stretched toward the sky. Djaruki could see the sheer wall of stone, but it took her two full days of rugged walking before she arrived at its base. The mountains did not seem hospitable to the young woman from the far-off island.

Djaruki’s extended journey may have taken her across many new and interesting landscapes, but it was an uneventful trek. She had seen no people since leaving Phanisia, and the only larger animals she came across were a herd of skittish deer off in the distance that bolted when they spotted her, and a pod of seals lounging on a rocky outcropping in the water. A full twenty-seven days had passed with Djaruki on her own, when she finally saw her first glimpses of civilization.

A sluggish and smelly river ran along the edge of the mountains and emptied into the sea. Djaruki suspected people lived upriver. Garbage was the next thing to indicate that she might be right. There were only little flecks of it at first, which dotted the landscape with their unnatural appearance. Djaruki did not know she was approaching a gritty old metropolis, but the nearer she drew, the more trash she came upon. The river also was getting more disgusting the farther Djaruki followed it, and the stink that wafted off the putrid waters filled the air with a foul aroma.

Then Djaruki saw her first people.

A pair of drunken men in tattered clothes were fighting over a bottle of booze. Refuse surrounded them and Djaruki realized it was their makeshift dwellings. There were two disheveled bedrolls, each with a dirty pillow, and there were several bags full of greasy clothes and miscellaneous collected items.

Djaruki felt sorry for the men. She tried not to make eye contact with them as she passed, but the sound of shattering glass caused her to turn in their direction. One of the men screamed in fury, and Djaruki was powerless as she watched him snatch up the broken bottle by its neck and jab it into his companion’s throat. He yanked the jagged glass out, and blood sprayed from the neck wound, splattering the attacker in his face. The dying man clawed at the air, and the other pulled himself out of reach. He stood, and using the collar of his shirt, he wiped the blood across his face, smearing it like hideous war paint.

Djaruki was frozen in shock, staring at the bleeding man as he stretched for the other drunkard. His life flowed from the wicked gash in his neck, and he collapsed to the earth.

The blood-splattered killer turned toward Djaruki, barked something in a language she did not understand, and he lunged at her.

Djaruki’s powers were easy for her to conceal, but she now unleashed them. Using her own heartbeat, the young Shift woman sent out an invisible directed pulse that moved like the blast-pressure wave of an explosion. The man staggered back and coughed up blood onto his palm. He looked at it with shock, shouted something else at Djaruki, and threw the broken bottle straight at her.

She released another shockwave, more powerful than the first, and the glass was powdered to sand-like particles that dropped to the ground. Her defensive energy also inadvertently hit the man. Blast-pressure waves at close enough range can cause catastrophic damage to the air-filled organs in a body, and the man’s lungs, eyes, and brain liquefied. He fell dead, and Djaruki ran.

The next bend in the river revealed the city. She rushed past more people living on the streets, and another body that looked like a corpse; Djaruki hoped the person was just unconscious. As she made her way into the city proper, she came across many inhabitants. She heard laughter, conversations in languages she did not understand, some which sounded like arguments, and it was all new to her.

Djaruki located an inn and entered. A stocky fellow with a thick beard greeted her with words she did not know.

“I’m sorry,” Djaruki replied. “I don’t speak your language.”

The man looked surprised and delighted, and he replied, “You speak the Goolie? I speak the Goolie! I don’t get practice speak the Goolie. Talk you good!”

Djaruki had never heard the term Goolie used for her language, but at least she recognized most of his words, and she was relieved. “May I please book a room?”

“A room?” the man repeated, doing the translation in his head. “Oh yes, we have the rooms for the peoples. How long is you be stay?”

“Possibly just one night, but I might stay longer. And again,” Djaruki added, “I’m sorry; I wish I could speak your language.”

He smiled through his beard. “No, no, I like speak the Goolie! You make practice speak the Goolie. And you stay with us. We have the rooms for you. Do you hungry?”

“Am I hungry? Yes, please.”

The big man turned to the door of his tavern’s kitchen and hollered something in his native language. He looked back at Djaruki. “Soup is be right up. Do you want see room?”

Djaruki smiled. “Yes please.”

The barman led her up a flight of stairs, opened a door to a cozy little room, and handed her a key. “You comes down for foods,” he instructed.

Djaruki nodded to him. “Thank you, yes, I’ll be right down.” He left her, and she closed the door. She sat on the bed, let out a sigh, and thought, I wonder if this city is accepting of my kind. Her stomach grumbled at her, and Djaruki headed back down to the tavern’s main room. The food was waiting.

“This for you!” the man declared. He grinned and rubbed his belly.

Djaruki pulled up a chair and began to eat. The soup was hearty and filling, and when she was done she asked the barkeep, “Is there a privy chamber where I can clean myself?”

He pointed at the ceiling. “Upstairs, door with pelican.”

“Thank you,” she replied, and she headed back up.

The door to Djaruki’s room was painted with a decorative number 4, and she noticed the preceding numbers on three other doors. Only one was emblazoned with the image of a bird. It did not look to Djaruki like the pelicans she grew up seeing on Philletri, but it was the only door the man could have meant. She pulled it open, and to her delight, there was an enormous bathtub.

She grabbed a change of clothes from her room, headed into the privy chamber, and locked the door’s decorative deadbolt. Djaruki looked into a mirror for the first time in almost a month, and she was startled at how gaunt she appeared. She had walked countless miles, and for some of her journey, food had been scarce, but she had not gone a single day without eating at least a little something. She pulled off her traveling clothes and stood in front of her reflection. Her collarbones, ribs, and hipbones poked out more than ever before.

Djaruki turned to the tub and cranked on the taps. She climbed into the bottom of the empty basin as the hot water slowly began to fill it. She wanted to find others of her kind, others who would understand what she felt, how alone she felt. Solitude had always been important to Djaruki, and she did well on her trip alone through the wilds, but she wanted friends like her. She wanted to find people who would be closer to her than her family had ever been.

When the tub was full, Djaruki turned off the taps and sat soaking for a long while before she soaped up her body and cleaned the travel off her skin. The inn’s towels were thick and soft, and after she dried and dressed herself, Djaruki returned to the tavern below.

“Hello!” the barman said when she entered.

“Hi,” she replied, “may I please have some more soup?”

He looked very pleased. “You be hungry?”

“Yes, I’m still hungry,” she answered.

“More soups!” the man cried aloud in delight, causing Djaruki to let out a little laugh. He waved at another man who was setting tables. “Toad speak the Goolie!” The barman nodded at Djaruki. “You talk the Goolie with Toad. Toad talk the Goolie good.” He headed into the back to get her food.

Djaruki took a seat at the counter again, and she looked at the other man. “Toad?”

He nodded. “G’day, stranger. Folks have called me Toad my whole life.” Toad was a young man who appeared about Djaruki’s age. “Where are you from?” he asked. His command of the language she spoke impressed her.

“Phanisia,” Djaruki replied.

Toad nodded. “I’ve been through your country, didn’t stay long though.”

“I was born there,” Djaruki stated, “but I’ve wanted to leave for most of my life.”

“Yeah, not the most friendly of people,” he agreed. “Where are you headed? What’s your destination?”

Djaruki did not know. “Somewhere people are more accepting.”

Toad sucked his teeth. “You haven’t found it yet. This city is rough.”

“What’s this place called?”

“You’re in the minor city of Duguza, part of the Tilthon Empire.”

Neither of those names meant anything to Djaruki.

The barkeep returned from the back with another large bowl of soup and placed it onto the countertop in front of her. “Eat, girl!” he ordered with a chuckle.

Both men continued about their tasks, getting the tavern ready for the patrons who would be there later that evening, and Djaruki enjoyed her second bowl of food. Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, when she was finished, she headed back up to her room.

Djaruki did not know how long she planned on staying in the city of Duguza, but from the sounds of it, this was not the place she was looking for. With the temporary hiatus from her journey, and no longer being forced to sleep on the unforgiving and cold ground, Djaruki curled up in bed and fell asleep. She slept until the morning sun came shining in through the windows, and she sat up feeling refreshed.

After packing her bag, she returned to the tavern and spoke with the inn’s owner. “Is there a nicer part of town?”

“This is nice part of town,” he replied.

“Sorry, what I mean,” Djaruki added, “is there an area that is maybe a little more fancy?”

The man gave her a knowing nod. “You want Heights.”

“Heights? Is that a neighborhood?”

“Heights for fancy people,” he confirmed, however, he continued, “but you no go there. You no go to Heights.”

Djaruki was confused. “Why shouldn’t I go to Heights?”

The bearded barman frowned at her. “Heights for rich people. Heights not for you.”

The other man Djaruki had met the night before came in through the front door of the tavern. Toad was wearing an apron and carrying a broom. “G’morning,” he said as he headed into one of the storage closets.

Djaruki focused her question on him. “Excuse me, can you please tell me how to get to Heights?”

He furrowed his brow and looked over at the barkeep, who said something in his native language. Toad answered him and turned back to Djaruki. “Why would you want to go to snob town?”

Djaruki repeated his words back to him. “Snob town?”

“Yeah, that’s where the people live who think they’re better than everyone else,” Toad replied.

“I want to see it. I want to see the fancier part of town that isn’t full of garbage and people aren’t living – and dying – on the streets. Just please tell me how to get there?” Djaruki insisted.

Toad shook his head. “You can’t miss ’em. The Heights are the highest part of the city. But didn’t you say you wanted to find someplace where others are friendlier? The Heights definitely aren’t that. Good luck though,” he added doubtfully. He headed back into the storeroom and Djaruki left the two men and the tavern.

Outside in the streets, she immediately saw the neighborhood that had to be the Heights. Most of the city sat along the polluted waters of the river, but a small portion of the metropolis climbed up the lower slopes of the mountains. Magnificent houses with elegant gardens, statues, and fountains stood looking down over the lowly rest of the city, and Djaruki headed in their direction. She only made it as far as the elaborate gates of the Heights. They were locked.

“What the bilga do you want?” snapped a guardsman.

At least he speaks my language, Djaruki thought, although she had never heard the word bilga before. “I’m looking for a place to stay,” she explained.

The man burst out with insulting laughter. “Who do you think you are? You can’t just go into the Heights. You must be out of your mind. Street trash belongs out there.” He pointed behind her at the rest of the city.

Djaruki was aghast. “I’m not trash!” she declared, but the man just cackled at her and she headed back the way she came.

A gruff voice to one side asked, “Why on earth would someone like you want to go into the Heights?”

She glanced in the direction of the voice and saw a man. He looked severe. Stubble grew across his jaw, and he was dressed for battle. He was carrying a sword in its sheath. Djaruki tried to ignore him.

“Oi, girl!” he barked. “I know who you are.”

Djaruki froze in her tracks and turned to face him. The man was intimidating.

“That’s right,” he replied to her expression, “I know you’re a Shift.”

Djaruki looked all around her with concern that someone might hear him revealing her secrets, even though she did not know the word Shift herself.

He laughed. “People in these parts don’t know that word. Do you know what a Shift is? Do you know what you are?” When she did not reply, he continued. “I’m Z’Matri. I’m also a Shift. I can sense other Shifts, and I know you’re one.”

Djaruki was surprised by the information, and she perked up. “You’re one too? Are our people welcome here? Is that why you’re here?” Like Djaruki, there were no outward indications that the man was also an other.

Z’Matri’s face fell. “No, they ain’t friendly to our kind,” he replied seriously. “Do not reveal that you are who you are, not in this city.”

Djaruki was frustrated. “Is there no place that’s welcoming to our people?”

“Only the Uodila Archipelago, down in the southern seas,” Z’Matri replied. “The main island is run by Shifts, and the only inhabitants are our people and some human allies. It’s nice to visit, but I don’t recommend trying to move there. You know, Teshon City ain’t bad for Shifts these days either, but you’re about as far away from there as you can get, way down here in this dump.” Z’Matri eyed Djaruki up and down, not in a lecherous way, but scrutinizing her mettle. “I guess you could come with us,” he concluded. Djaruki did not know who he meant because there was no one else around besides him. “What’s your name?”

Djaruki had never met a Shift who openly talked about being one, and she replied to him, “I’m Djaruki, from the island of Philletri.”

“No kidding,” Z’Matri said with a chuckle, “we were there, not long ago.”

“Who’s we?”

Z’Matri smirked. “My old crew.”

“You were on a ship? Wait, were you with the giant?!”

Z’Matri laughed. “Yeah, I was part of Ogomo’s crew until recently.”

“Is he with you?” Djaruki was very excited about the prospect of meeting the giant.

“Sorry, kid, I left him in Teshon City with his sister and a bunch of our people. A teleporter brought me here yesterday.”

A teleporter? Djaruki thought. Is there a way I could have traveled all this way without walking? She was very curious and asked aloud, “Is the teleporter here with you? Also, if this place is unfriendly to our kind, then why’d you come here?”

Z’Matri became serious. “Follow me and I’ll tell you about it. We’ve lingered long enough.”

He led her back into the heart of the city, and they headed to a livelier region with several noisy cafés and bars. They entered a coffeehouse, and Z’Matri ordered them two morningstar espressos. Once they had their drinks, they sat together in a corner booth.

“I know I just convinced you not to go into the Heights, but I’m actually trying to get into them myself. Before I left Teshon City, this really unique pair of Shift kids, who I think were twins, but one of them looked like a weird octopus who could fly… anyway, they have some sort of power-enhancing power, and they used it on me.” Z’Matri looked pensive. “They weren’t being malicious; they were trying to help find a lost Bio-Shift.”

“Bio-Shifts are like the giant, right?”

Z’Matri nodded. “Yeah, the ones who change physically are Bio-Shifts.”

“They’re extra special,” Djaruki stated, “so they get a special name.”

Z’Matri chuckled again, and he took a sip of his coffee. “I can sense other Shifts, every single one of them, even you. That’s my ability. I could feel you by the gates to the Heights, but then I couldn’t feel you all of a sudden. Normally I can feel all the Shifts on the planet. I know where each Shift is at every moment. I don’t know who they are, and I can’t reach out to them by any means of communication; I can just feel them. I can’t sense what any of you can do, just that you all exist. I even feel every moment when a young Shift’s mantis gland activates.”

“So why did you stop sensing me at the entrance to the Heights?” Djaruki asked.

“I’m puzzled by that as well,” Z’Matri replied. “I can sense something else about Shifts, and it’s similar to what’s happening at the Heights, but that part of my power is a bit morbid.”

Djaruki wanted to know more. “What else can you sense?”

“Not only do I know when every Shift’s mantis gland activates, but I also feel anytime a Shift dies. I know this might sound kind of bad,” Z’Matri added quickly, “but their deaths don’t affect me. When a young Shift’s power activates, I experience it kind of like a light being turned on, and when a Shift dies, it’s like the switch is turned off and I simply don’t feel them anymore.”

“So what’s happening at the Heights?”

Z’Matri turned in his seat to look out the coffeehouse’s door toward the gates. “The Heights have a spot on them,” he stated, looking at Djaruki again, “a circle where my power can’t feel other Shifts. There is however, one particular Shift inside that circle who I can sense.” He frowned. “I should be able to feel Shifts in the Heights. I’ve felt Shifts enter the circle, like when you got too close to the gates, and I feel it when Shifts leave the circle again, but I can’t feel them once inside. The circle either has something to do with that specific Shift, or maybe there’s some sort of advanced technology that’s suppressing all other Shifts except that one.”

Djaruki was confused. “So there’s a Shift you can feel, but any other Shifts who get too close to that one disappear from your senses?”

“Yeah, it’s just like when a Shift dies. I watched you get close to the gates and enter the circle, and even though I was nearby and could see you physically standing there, I suddenly couldn’t feel you anymore. After those twins up in Teshon City used their power on me, my connection to other Shifts is now so much greater. My awareness of other Shifts was always a subtle thing, but now…” he paused, “now it feels like I’m standing beside every one of you at every moment. The fact that there’s a spot where Shifts disappear has fixated me. I need to find that Shift.”

A thought struck Djaruki. “What happens when you go into the circle? Can you sense yourself, or do you also disappear?”

Z’Matri smirked at her. “I don’t know yet. I was actually on my way there when you appeared. I sensed you were suddenly heading straight toward the Heights, and I didn’t want you to get yourself into trouble. Shifts have entered the circle who haven’t come back out again.”

“Let’s go back!” Djaruki urged. “Let’s find out what happens!” She was very intrigued, and she was having a difficult time containing her enthusiasm at talking with a fellow Shift.

He laughed. “Alright, but first, I think you should meet the other two.”

“The other two?”

“Yeah,” Z’Matri replied with a nod, “the two Shift women who came here with me from Teshon City. One of them is a Bio-Shift called Gawa, and the other woman is named Tisa.”✪