Chapter Eleven

Digital Travel

Raiden was surprised to realize that, though she could barely remember anything about her home world, everything since coming to the Digital World, she could recall perfectly.

She and Imon had been walking for untold hours now. They weren't sure where they should be going, for now simply wanting to be as far away from the Factory as possible. The terrain was mostly wooded, with some open spaces at the top of mountains. Raiden and Imon stuck to the valleys, where the trees were tall, the undergrowth thick, and hiding easy. They were alone, but liked it. It gave Raiden a chance to interrogate Imon. Imon sometimes seemed as surprised as Raiden at what he knew. It was from Imon that Raiden finally learned where she was- the Digital World.

After he had said that, Imon advised, "You should probably call yourself Raidenmon from now on, at least around other Digimon."

Raiden shrugged, surprised, as she spread her legs across a wide fallen log. It was hard to get over them in a skirt. "Why should I do that? Excuse me, but it gets a little dull when everyone's called 'mon."

"Didn't I just tell you? This is the Digital World, and there are certain natural laws that have to be followed. People would get suspicious if your name didn't include a file extension."

Raiden slid off the log and continued walking, brushing some bark and a vine out of her hair. "…A file extension would mean you're made out of data, right?" she remembered, and further reasoned, "And if someone isn't made of data, they'd be a freak of nature- or even science?"

On her shoulder, Raiden could feel Imon nodding. "Not to mention, any mon who knows anything will want your chi. Even worse, Lilithmon has offered shares in her chain of factories in exchange for a live human."

Pushing through some bushes with strange, pulsating zebra-striped berries, a thought hit Raiden. "What exactly do the factories make? All those machines… but I couldn't see any product."

"That's understandable. The finished products come off the line and are packaged in an entirely different part of the factory." Imon used big words for someone not even a day old. Raiden never ceased to be amazed. "As for what is made, it's a variety of things. Mostly items to enhance a Digimon's natural power. Most of those are distributed amongst Lilithmon's own small army, but some are sold. There are machines the size of a shed that produce static fields, and others that create barriers. Only one unbreakable barrier was ever made, and it defends the main factory- the one we just left."

Imon paused, and continued, "Speaking of such, do you still have the small piece of obsidian that came with my egg?"

Raiden stopped walking, reaching into her shoe with one hand while holding a branch away from her face with the other. She pulled the stone out. It was about the size of a squashed penny, and looked uncut. She couldn't see how the odd red metal had been stuck on. A geometric letter had been engraved in it, showing a more yellow metal beneath the red leaf. "How'd you know I'd got it?" she asked.

"I thought I might have sensed it. It's a data mask, a very specialized illusion-creating device which hides its wearer's true essence, while remaining all but undetectable. A weak Digimon could wear it to appear strong, or a strong Digimon could use it to appear weak. And if a human wears it, it's possible to pretend that he or she is an ordinary Digimon, though without it any human would be immediately detected by their lack of a data signature," Imon explained, at length. The little thing sure could talk! And Raiden was grateful for the information- and companionship. "They're rare in the extreme, though. They could only be made with data gleaned from Hybrids, and they're thought to be all gone now. …I remember Machinedramon thinking how cruel it was, that they were all caught, and their data harvested for its unique properties."

Raiden picked some thorns out of her skirt, and unwound a vine from her left leg. "That's rather sad," she said at last. In the back of her mind, memories of similar injustices in her home world itched, but she couldn't quite recall them. Either way, she wasn't really sure if there was any way to adequately honor the memory of any kind of extinct creature.

Imon sighed. "You can put it back in your shoe now.…Of course, with that on, you're traceable. For awhile, Lilithmon's search pulses might confuse us with the runaway Garurumon, but the more time that passes the more likely it is that they'll identify us. We should look for a large settlement of Digimon to hide in," Imon warned. Perhaps he didn't like thinking about extinction either, and wanted to change the subject. Or perhaps he was just a very practical soul.

Raiden, anyway, was glad to lighten the mood. "I'd like that. I want to see many of the… Digital World's natives. Without having to run from them." She paused to take in her surroundings. Nothing but trees and bushes as far as the eye could see. A few of the plants looked like they had been cut and pasted. "So… any idea where a settlement might be?"

Imon hummed softly, though since he was right next to Raiden's ear, it sounded pretty loud to her. She imagined his eyes would be closed. After a minute, he reported, "We're going in the right direction. I'm not very good at this," for the first time, Imon sounded a little insecure; young, even. "But there is a great density of active data just ahead. It's hard to miss."

"Great." Though wandering aimlessly had been pleasant for awhile, the endless forest could become tiring. With a destination now, Raiden could focus on going forward, and not feel so worn out. Now that she thought about it… she couldn't remember doing this much walking, and certainly not fighting through such rough terrain, in her life. That struck her as odd. What in the name of… of… name, had her home world been like?

Raiden felt like Imon's complete opposite just then. He was blessed with so much knowledge, though he wasn't even a day old, while Raiden didn't even know what her own home, which she was sure she had lived in for years, looked like. Oh…

"Y-you're crying on me!" blurted Imon in surprise. He wasn't sure what else to say.

Raiden didn't want to worry her only friend. She tried to stop the tears. "I'm okay…" she mumbled, none too convincingly.

Even though the settlement was 'just ahead', hours still passed filled with nothing but forest and Imon's chatter. They had to stray off course once to avoid crossing through exposed high ground. Once, Imon hissed for Raiden to hide. She dropped under a bush, seconds before an indistinct shape whizzed above them, blocking out the sun.

Raiden had been the first to speak. "That was from the factory, wasn't it?" There wasn't any doubt. After waiting for a few minutes, in case it came back, they resumed walking.

But eventually, Imon happily announced, "We're here!" Raiden didn't see anything at first. Then her eyes picked out a flat wall just a few feet ahead, painted to blend in with the green and brown. She looked up. Almost completely hidden by the canopy was a small wooden platform, with a hatch in the bottom.

As she watched, someone on the other side slid it open just a crack, and peeked out. Only the eyes were visible- round and blue, set behind… a wooden mask? That's what it looked like. The watcher realized it had been spotted, and grumbled, reluctantly, "Who goes there?"

The Digivice beeped. Raiden studied the picture it projected- a tree, leafless, because its top appeared to have been ripped off. Something about the way they were held made the battered branches looked like arms, and the roots stood between the trunk and the ground. Peering from holes in the trunk were eyes similar to those above the platform, and a third hole just below them could have been a mouth. "Woodmon (Champion) imitates a tree as it waits for prey. Without leaves, it must hunt for food. Its rather arboreal attacks are Twig Tap and Woody Smasher."

It seemed to Raiden that the Woodmon above her wasn't hunting, but keeping watch for something. "My name is Raiden-" Imon nudged her, "-mon. And this is Imon. We need a place to stay."

The sentry grunted. "You're not from the Factory, are you?" it asked, narrowing its eyes as it said this.

Raiden put her hands on her hips. "What do you want me to say?"

Someone, standing beside Woodmon, from the sound of it, laughed. The eyes turned away from the hatch, as if listening to someone whispering. Then Woodmon looked back. "Come up here so we can inspect you," it ordered, still sounding a bit reluctant.

The door opened all the way, showing a square of clear blue-red sky. A rope ladder rolled down; Raiden let it swing for a moment, brushing a few fallen leaves, before grabbing hold. The rungs were all perfectly straight and round, but the grain, too was perfectly straight. It must have grown like that. As Raiden climbed, the watcher or watchers overhead pulled the ladder up.

Raiden's head poked through the floor. She looked around. The platform was a simple structure, half a box, secured by tree branches. Imon took the opportunity to hop off her shoulder, before Raiden bent, uncomfortably, to get her feet on the platform. She stood up, turning to get the kink out of her back.

The Woodmon stood to one side, exactly as described. Two if its arms were folded, and one was in a sling. It looked at her guardedly; it was easy to see it didn't trust strangers. A second Digimon stood on Raiden's opposite side. Its head was a flower, with two beady eyes and a wide relaxed mouth, surrounded by short yellow petals. The top one-fourth of the face, driving a wedge between the eyes, was something between a light red and a dark pink. A very thick stem extended from behind the head, about nine feet long, ending in a point. It had two arms- long and stem-like, but definitely arms- ending in three fingers, without any palms. Its legs, the same bright green as the rest of the body, were much shorter than its arms, and each foot had a single thorny toe. There was something animalistic about its posture. Two massive leaves grew on its shoulders that, if you followed the reasoning that the flower's features represented animal parts, could be wings.

The Digivice identified the bizarre creature as, "Sunflowmon (Champion), one of the many Digimon that straddle the gap between plant and animal. It walks like a beast, flies like a bird, and grows in the sun like a flower. Chloroplasts generate the power for its Sunshine Beam attack."

Sunflowmon smiled lazily, but friendly, at Raiden. The plant fibers of its face wrinkled in odd ways with the movement, and, seeming uncomfortable, the flower shortly returned its face to a neutral expression.

"How do you do?" said Imon politely.

It was Woodmon who addressed the newcomers. "So you… you're looking for shelter, huh? A place to hide perhaps? So… Why, yeah?" It seemed unsure of what to say.

Sunflowmon mutely picked up Imon. It felt his metal shell, and the spines. It pried his mouth open, and looked inside. Imon wagged his tongue, trying to say something, but was impeded. Sunflowmon stuck a finger into Imon's tail. The tiny Digimon laughed involuntarily. "Stop it, that's ticklish!" he pleaded. He took a deep breath, and a smoke ring popped out of the pipe. The flower yanked its finger out as if burned, for a second its expression looking shocked. Seeming to have passed some sort of inspection, Imon was placed back on the ground.

Raiden hesitated to answer. She wasn't sure if they'd welcome someone with anything to do with Lilithmon. But in the end she decided to say. "Yes, we escaped from the Factory. We think we're being chased, but as of yet no one knows where we are. We thought that… if we went to a city or… someplace with a lot of Digimon, we could hide more easily."

The wooden sentry appeared to accept that. "Grah!" it cursed. "Well… so long as no one knows where you are… We could let you stay here."

For the first time, Sunflowmon spoke up. Its voice sounded strained, like its movements, as if it couldn't bend easily. "You will be required to work. We are always in need of another defender."

Raiden hesitated, instinctively shying away from a situation where she might have to take orders. But Imon nodded. "We'd be glad to lend a hand," he said. "Well… the one with the hands, anyway." Raiden shot him a dirty look.

Woodmon nodded dismissively, and turned his back to the two. He seemed to relax once his eyes were fixed on the treetops. "Show them in, Sunflowmon," he directed.

Sunflowmon nodded, and took Raiden by the hand. Imon hopped beside, beginning to ask the flowerlike Digimon questions about the place they had come to. Raiden was almost surprised he didn't know about any of it, but supposed that his- or his father's- sphere of experience ended at the Factory's walls. Sunflowmon remained silent, its face still.

They climbed down a wooden staircase, spiraling down a thick tree trunk in a way that didn't damage its bark. Slowly, Raiden's perspective passed below the canopy, and she saw the view behind the walls.

On this side, the wall itself had been painted in many colors. Sometimes the painting looked like plants and flowers, but mostly it was just abstract. The ground was bare dirt, warm, dry, and brown. Trees still grew everywhere, creating dark shades adjacent to bright patches. Huddling around the tree trunks, sheltering in the shadows, were huts, seeming to be made of mud and shed twigs and bark. They were thatched with fallen deciduous leaves. The shapeless ramshackle huts might have been dreary, but they too were painted brightly, with patterns and murals as individual as a house's occupants. Jars and pots, brimming with various materials, colonized the doorsteps.

From the branches of the forest, someone had hung kites, paper flowers, and painted gourds, creating a festive atmosphere. Some of these ornaments housed candles, unlit in the daylight. In one of the gourds, a bird seemed to have built a nest. The most striking thing about the town, however, was the flowers and plants. Around the edges of the wall, a few tame plants grew. These were mostly grasses, with a few small flowers. But mostly they were huge, with arms and legs in a fashion similar to Sunflowmon. They were everywhere, sitting contentedly in sun and shade, most of them moving little. They made the town look as lush and colorful as a tropical rainforest- though Raiden couldn't quite remember what a rainforest was. She supposed it looked a lot like this town.

Sunflowmon let go of Raiden's hand, resting its arm on her shoulder instead. "Welcome," it announced dreamily, "to Kusabana no Gensanchi."