Chapter 4
When substances change from a liquid or gas to a solid, they can form crystals ... The type of substance and how its molecules interlock determine the shape of the crystal.
--the Unnatural Museum
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Geometry was never my strong suit, but here it reigned supreme. There were angles everywhere. The streets ran between and under the crystal-buildings, as straight as a ruler and branching off at all points of the compass. The buildings--or crystals--ranged from three sides to eighteen, and their multiple facets caught the rising sun. The colors were dazzling, ranging from violent primary colors at the tops to drab secondary colors at the bases. It was in the drab parts where doors and windows were carved, always matching the style of the crystal, and the insides were polished until they flashed.
The ground underfoot was warm, and there was the stinging odor of ammonia where the air was still. And hurrying to and fro, although it was scarcely dawn, were the creatures Kita had called Shellizaas. Like Sonic said, they resembled lizards with turtle shells. Some went on all fours, while others walked upright, something that puzzled me for the rest of my stay. They were green and had fancy paintings and engravings on their shells. None of them paid any attention to us. There were only a few streets that were heavily traveled, and the rest were empty. I did not wonder about this at the time, for my attention was occupied with peering in every window we passed for a clue as to the whereabouts of our chao.
"Stinking glass, all of it," Knuckles muttered beside me. I glanced at him, and he motioned to the crystals. "It's crystal. And it's still growing. I don't like the way this place feels." He stamped his feet on the pavement, which was made of crushed, glittering stone.
"Why not?" I asked.
He shook his head. "There's something wrong about it."
We rounded a corner and came to a river that cut the city in half. Steam rose from it in curls, and it was so clear I could see the bottom all the way across. "Check this out," said Sonic. "Hot springs!" He pulled off his glove and dipped in a hand. "Feels like a hot tub. Anybody for a swim?"
Knuckles touched his arm. "Sonic ... don't. It's probably full of chemicals and minerals and junk."
"But isn't mineral water good for you?" I asked.
Knuckles's eyes swept the street. "You don't see any turtles in it, do you?"
We looked around, and he was right. No turtles went near the water's edge. Sonic wiped his hand off and pulled his glove back on.
"Let's ask somebody about chao," I said. "Like ... oh ... you see any turtle police?"
We looked around, but saw no Shellizaas that looked like law enforcement.
"Maybe we could try a civilian, then," Knuckles said, leading the way onto a busier street. He motioned for Sonic and I to wait, and he approached a turtle with red designs on its shell. "Hello sir," he called, waving to attract its attention. The turtle blinked at him in astonishment. "Could I ask you a few questions?" Knuckles said. The turtle gave him a disgusted look and hurried off down the street.
Sonic and I watched as Knuckles tried over and over to get a turtle to speak to him, but they either looked insulted, or ignored him.
"I don't get it," muttered Sonic. "Why won't they speak to him?"
"Maybe they're racist," I said.
We watched as a turtle passed by close enough to touch without looking at Sonic or me.
Knuckles returned to us, fuming. "They ignore me! This is a city of snobs."
"Are you sure they speak our language?" I asked.
Sonic shrugged. "Let's see." He called the next passing turtle a crude word, and received an affronted glare. "Yep. They understand us."
"We've got to talk to somebody," I said. "Maybe you could jump on one, Knux." I was instantly sorry I had said it, for Knuckles said, "Good idea, I'll try that." And he leaped up onto the domed shell of a passing turtle.
The turtle screamed bloody murder, and the whole street attacked us. I was thrown aside and crushed against a glass wall by a thick, scaly hand. I couldn't move for the crowd, and could only stand and watch as the turtles knocked Knuckles down, and for a while he was lost from sight in the milling crowd. I don't know where Sonic went. Then they were dragging Knuckles away in a pair of bindings, and he was fighting like mad. "Run!" he bellowed over the noise of the mob. "Run, you idiot!"
It dawned on me that the turtles would dispatch me next, so I slid sideways along the wall, broke free of the crush, and bolted down an adjoining street. There were no alleys, no hiding places, and I could not hope to blend in with a bunch of shell-wearing lunatics. And where had Sonic gone? At the moment I needed to hide, so I ducked into the first empty doorway I saw.
The angles and corners of the room were tilted and un-parallel, but I had no time to bother with that. Off to one side was an alcove for a closet. I whisked inside, found a locked door at the far end and leaned against it, hoping the alcove itself would hide me.
I was inside some kind of store, but they sold weird items Shellizaas used to decorate their shells. Why hadn't they made the walls equal sizes? Looking at the corners gave me a headache.
The door behind me clicked, and the knob turned. I jumped away from the door and stood behind it. It opened slowly, and to my surprise, what emerged was a hand holding a little mirror. The hand had fur on it. It tilted the mirror to examine the corners of the alcove, and of course it saw me. I saw a pair of startled eyes reflected in the mirror for an instant, then the Mobian whisked out, grabbed me, and dragged me inside. The door slammed shut and the lock clicked, and for a few seconds I stood in silent darkness.
Then a light switched on, and I was looking down the muzzle of a bazooka. I followed its length with my eyes, and met those of the Mobian, who was squinting through the crosshairs. "Talk, girlie," he said.
I reacted without thinking, and squinted down the bazooka's muzzle. "You need to clean this thing," I said. I switched my left hand to my laser pistol and aimed it at his nose. "I keep mine cleaner than that."
If I ever get derobotized, I'll miss the weapons in my hands.
My captor didn't flinch. "Cute," he said. "Whose side are you on?" He was a rabbit, and his ears were pierced all the way to the tips. Each earring was made of turtle shell.
"I gather you don't like turtles," I said.
He smirked behind the crosshairs. "Don't call them turtles in their hearing." He lowered his bazooka, and I lowered my pistol. "You got guts, girlie."
I slumped against the wall and exhaled. Now my reaction had time to set in, I was terrified. I forced my face into a smile. "Thanks. Who are you?"
The rabbit rested his bazooka on its butt and unscrewed the muzzle. "I'm Jazz," he said. "I'm the natural enemy of the Shellizaas. I keep their population from growing too large." He grinned, showing his broad front teeth.
"I'm Zephyer," I said.
Jazz examined the muzzle of his gun and said, "You're right, it's dirty." He pulled a cloth and a ramrod off a shelf, and began to clean out the muzzle. The room we were in looked like a storage room for an ammunition shop, but there was a small bed in one corner, and a crate with carrot tops poking out of it. It looked like a hideout.
"So," said Jazz, "what's a cute girl like you doing in a place like this?"
"My chao was kidnapped," I said, watching his hands work. "When we started asking for help, they arrested one of my friends."
Jazz looked at me a moment, then resumed cleaning his weapon. "Sounds like your party was doomed from the first."
"Why?"
He gave me a surprised look. "Don't you know what they use chao for?"
"No." I frowned. "Is it bad?"
He busied himself with his gun. "I won't tell you, then. But forget about your chao. It's as good as dead."
I straightened up. "What do you mean?"
He shook his head. "Don't ask." He removed a shorter muzzle and an ammunition chamber from a box and screwed them on the stock of his gun.
"Please," I said. "Please tell me. They were only taken yesterday--maybe I could save them."
Jazz's ears drooped. "Okay," he sighed. "I can't refuse a lady." He flashed me a roguish grin and put on a bulky backpack. He picked up his gun and patted it fondly. "This is a T-D-1," he told me. "I've got all the attachments--flame-thrower, rocket launcher, pepper spray, you name it. Right now it'll unload an explosive-tipped .30 caliber bullet. Punches through turtle shell quite nicely." He opened the outer door, peered out, then led me out into the street.
When we stepped into daylight I realized that Jazz was the same shade of green as the Shellizaas. He looked up and down the street, then darted away like lightning. I stared after him, my mouth falling open. Sonic was the only one I knew who could run that fast. Jazz was out of sight in two seconds, and a moment later he was back, hardly panting. "Nobody's looking for you. Come with me." He strolled away down the empty street, looking as ordinary as any Mobian rabbit except for the gun under his arm. I pulled my cloak around me and followed him.
We kept to empty streets, but I saw Shellizaas hurrying past in the distance. They appeared angry, and I was thankful that Jazz knew where he was going. As we walked, I glanced up at the peak of a bright yellow crystal, and saw someone crouched up there. I waved. I'll never know how Sonic reaches some of the places he does, but there he was, on top of a hundred-foot crystal. He waved back, but did not move. It cheered me to know he was all right. He probably knew where Knuckles had been taken, and might have already rescued him. I continued following Jazz, but my mind was occupied with thoughts of how Knuckles was faring.
Jazz led me to a street that cut through a clump of short violet crystals, and pointed to the base of the largest one, where a door and windows had been carved. "Go in there," he said, leaning against the wall. "Once you've seen what you need to, get out. They won't appreciate a scene."
A scene? What did he expect me to do, shoot the place up? I had just faced him down, so why did he expect me to be fazed by maltreatment of chao? I entered, expecting to find a pet store or a zoo. I did not expect what I found. It was a big room with two troughs stretching down the center. Low stools were drawn up to this trough, and a few Shellizaas were lying on these, eating a lettuce-like stuff. It was the smell, rather than the furnishings, that helped me identify the place as a restaurant.
There was a raised platform at the far end of the room, and I moved toward it, wondering if they made chao perform in the evenings. I passed along the feeding trough and saw it was divided into partitions that held a turtle's serving. It was still early, and I wondered if the breakfast crowd came later.
A lone turtle was dining apart from the others. He had lettuce, chopped fruit, and a meat dish. I had passed by him before I realized what I had seen. I doubled back to look again. No way, I was seeing things. It couldn't be what I thought it was....
But it was.
I found myself in the street seconds later on my hands and knees, vomiting between sobs. How could they! How could anyone...! Not a chao...! These people were evil! Chao could talk! That was wrong!
The vomiting subsided, but my stomach still felt queasy. I sat back and tried to quiet my crying. Jazz was standing beside me, leaning on his gun and looking cynical. I pointed to the restaurant--how could any place so barbaric be called a restaurant?--and choked, "Why don't you do something?"
"I'm working on it," he said, "but I'm only one jackrabbit."
I wiped my face on my cloak and forced down the wracking sobs that threatened to burst forth. "Where do they keep chao?"
"I don't know," said Jazz. "They might just kill them and put them in storage."
I retched at the thought, and clutched my stomach.
A shadow fell over me, and I saw Sonic's red sneakers. "Zephyer!" he exclaimed. His feet turned to face Jazz. "What did you do to her?"
"I enlightened her," said Jazz, sounding amused.
"Enlightened her?" snarled Sonic. "And made her throw up like that? What the heck did you do?"
I looked up and saw Sonic's face was flushed as if he were angry, or frightened, or both. "He didn't hurt me, Sonic," I said. "These turtles, they ... they..." I felt bile rise in my throat and stopped.
"They what?" said Sonic, looking at Jazz.
"Eat chao," said Jazz.
Sonic was silent, and the color left his face. He looked at me, and I nodded and pointed to the restaurant-crystal. I half-expected him to throw up, but Sonic is made of stronger stuff than I am. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I knew I didn't like these jerks." After a moment he added, "I'm Sonic, by the way."
"Jazz Jackrabbit," said Jazz, and they shook hands.
"We've got a friend who was taken by the turtles," said Sonic. "How can we get him back?"
"What'd he do?" asked Jazz.
"Jumped on a turtle's back." I noticed Sonic was studying Jazz's earrings.
"Oh, he's an abomination, then," said Jazz. "They'll kill him. We'd better go find him before then."
I shakily stood up. "I'll go with you guys," I said. "This has been one lousy morning."