The Isekai App

"We need to talk, Radio. I need to get in there and you're not helping. Are you my devoted minion or not?"

"Not!"

"So am I your minion?"

"Negative!"

It was late morning, sunny and breezy. We were at the top of the little hill, an ideal picnic spot that overlooked the sea, had a view of the Observatory and a few of the nearby islands. I was digging a ditch for Gary.

The Radio was parked inside a nearby tall black stone, one of hundreds here. It was currently playing Cocktails for Two by Tommy Dorsey.

"So Mandy is reborn, or something, as a super-water-goddess-kaiju. Harrigan gets the power of death and rebirth on a grand scale. I get a sarcastic entertainment console with alien commercials."

"Owen's complaints were exaggerated. The commercials were infrequent!"

Schmendrick was running around, in and out of the bushes, occasionally showing up to offer me the mutilated corpse of some small animal. When I regretfully declined, she'd gobble it down herself and charge back into the jungle for more.

Gary was on the hill with us, drifting in the sun, holding on to a handy shrub when the wind rose. He was a Gardener and spoke for his people, since the rest of them were afraid of everything.

Let's talk about the Gary, and the Gardeners in general. My Human readers won't have met any. Probably the other readers won't know them either; Gardeners are homebodies.

Imagine a blue-and-pink weather balloon, but alive. A mottled, spotted thing with patterns and veins that look a little like a butterfly's wing. The sphere of its inflated body is maybe six feet across.

At the bottom of the creature, where a balloon might have a gondola, is a reef of blue marbles: eyes. They're haphazardly placed all around the flat, round lower section of the dude. Most eyes aim downward; they do a lot of work looking at the ground.

Good? Okay, now: arms. Five thin, knobby arms, distributed evenly around the gondola beneath the big round balloon. Folded elaborately like the grabbers on a praying mantis. Each limb bore a belt and holster to hold various tools and ended in three-fingered stranglin' hands.

"You are a fool," Gary said, translated via the Radio. His people spoke in whistles that were very high in pitch; I could hear them only occasionally. Probably for the best.

I called him Gary because he vaguely resembled a cartoon snail from Spongebob, color-wise anyway. Completely different personality, though: my Gary was mean. "You fail me again, fool. Why would we care about this Human who kills and rebuilds other Humans? How will you return us to the World-of-Trees?"

"First of all, I have no idea how you got here, or how to get you back there. You're free to leave us at any time. I wouldn't recommend it, though. Danger everywhere."

"This is a nightmare place; the air steals my people. Human brought us here, Human must send us home! We DEMAND to be sent home!" His five arms performed an incomprehensible alien gesture. "I also hate the birds."

That got my attention. "What? I didn't abduct your people, Gary. Tell me about the Human who did it."

But I had a pretty good idea.

"Are you not the Steward of this place? Are you not its ruler? Are you not a FOOL, as I have mentioned previously?"

"Yes of course I'm a fool, but I can shovel better than you." I rolled my Human shoulders, waved my Human arms. "Aah, so nice."

"Begone! I tire of you and your infected stench!" But it was Gary who left, hauling himself along like a drunk spider, grabbing branches and shrubs. Having no feet or contact with the ground at all meant he couldn't stomp. I got the idea, though.

"Infected stench, he says. I know what you're thinking," I said to Schmendrick. "Why not just have Gary or one of his pals float in through the window, then go down and unlock the door?"

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The Radio chimed in. "Owen had been warned that the security measures in place would immediately destroy any intruder."

"Gosh that would be just awful."

"Eat," Schmendrick said, and placed a small mass of guts and fur on the ground near my shovel. "Also dig here, good spot."

"Thank you, sweetie, you're so nice to me. But I'm not hungry." I dug in the spot she'd suggested, which wasn't a good idea.

"GOD WHY," shouted the ghost voice up there through my windows. "Where AM I?"

"Aw man, shut up!" I yelled. "Wait, open the front door! Then shut up!"

The ghost complained about the dark and being afraid, then piped down.

"Monster in rock," Schmendrick observed around her mouthful of mutilated guts-and-fur.

"Yeah, that guy is no help at all. Neither are you, Radio." I dug a little more. Then, mostly to pass the time: "What else can you do?"

"Owen was asking to spin the dial!" The Radio stopped Tommy Dorsey; the music went scratchy-static, brief snippets of song and voice escaped the speaker. Changing the station, apparently.

Music, deep and mysterious, a slow and somber background bed of song for a scary movie. "Far beneath the distant waves, in the ice-covered sea near the hunting grounds of the Chelonic architects, was a terrifying structure, one alien and frightening, yet clearly springing from the mind of a Human designer."

How would something be alien but have clear indications of Human design? But I didn't ask. The Radio was more useful when I let it ramble.

"Spines, hooks and blades in a radial formation, like a lethal sunburst!" The Radio said breathlessly. "None dare approach this sculpture, this fortress of bitterness and anger, sculpted of black ice and protected by the fiercest of Magics, hidden in the darkest of seas!"

The music went on. It was spooky, a haunted-house theme with elements that made me think of aquatic predators. A few seconds passed. I said nothing.

"What could this sculpture contain?" prompted the Radio impatiently.

"Hint please."

"WHO could this sculpture contain?"

"That's interesting. Can I say hello? Hey, knock knock."

"Owen knew his voice echoed through the icy darkness. Bouncing tinnily from the cruel edges of the strange structure."

"NOT INTERESTED." The voice blasted out of the Radio's speaker, loud enough to shake the nearby leaves and grass. I clapped my hands over my ears. "WHOEVER YOU ARE GO AWAY OR I'LL KILL YOU, EVERYONE YOU KNOW AND EVERYONE THEY KNOW. COUNT OF THREE, ASSHOLE."

An ache, suddenly sharp, flared in my neck. Another in my left thigh. It was separate from the pain caused by the sheer volume of the voice. It hurt and I had no idea why.

"Okay, okay. Radio, get us out of there." The voice had been familiar, but I couldn't place it. Definitely Human, though. "Spin the dial, I mean."

"Awaaaay!" The Radio shouted. The pain in my neck, my leg, immediately subsided. Hmm.

"Forgot Owen is picky," said Schmendrick. She was holding a bouquet of dead-or-dying silvery fish. She slapped them on a flat rock in the sun, then expertly cleaned and gutted them. "Eat," she commanded. "Owen favorite fish kind."

"How do you know what's my favorite…oh." I took a bite of the sashimi she'd prepared. "Holy cow, this is great!" It was like the fish had spent its life swimming in ginger soy sauce. "You're so nice to me. You'll be such a good mom."

Her ears flipped and danced; I was learning that expression meant she was satisfied. "Good Human."

"Have you met other Human people besides…other me?"

"Yes. Bad."

"Over on that place, all the humans live, that island."

"Dangerous place. That Human with the island, he killed other Owen. All the other Human on that island always sad and cry. Afraid."

I wanted to ask her how she knew. Even then, early on, I think I had a suspicion about Doctor Harrigan. I didn't ask Schmendrick, though. Later I was glad I hadn't asked. Very glad.

I stroked her head. "Thank you for catching fish for me."

"You give us this place to live. So much to eat! We love you." She rubbed her whole sinewy, furry body against my leg, like a bipedal monster cat. "Are you going to stop that Human?"

"I … Probably, Schmendrick. I don't know how else it can go." Or he'll kill me again. Many times.

No. This was the last run.