“Kiera…” Pet sank low, nuzzling her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”
“I know.” She smiled. “That’s why I’m not mad. Just… frightened and sad.”
“You’re not in the same situation as Jen.”
Kiera laughed. “Of course not. This isn’t a space station. I don’t have to worry about running out of air.” She rolled on her side, head propped up on her hand, and frowned at the distant clouds. “Well, maybe I do.”
“Unlike Jen, you are not alone.” Pet nudged her arm. “I will never let you be alone again. No matter what happens, I will stay with you.”
She curled up, holding Pet close to her heart. “Thank you. You’re an awesome friend.”
The cube wobbled with happiness.
“Umm. Are your batteries gonna die?”
“Eventually, but you can replace my power cell at the nearest citadel when it runs out in sixty years.”
Kiera laughed herself to tears. I’m so messed up. My best friends are a computer program and a flying cube. She stroked her fingers over the plastic box. How lonely am I that they both feel like real people? “Do you know anything about my life before… the tank?”
“The files I found showed you received decent but not exceptional grades. You got in trouble a little in fifth-grade. A counselor thought you were angry with your parents for leaving you alone so much.”
“Yeah.” Kiera sighed. Hearing it brought memories of Mr. Bryant rising out of the murky depths. She couldn’t quite put a face on the blurry person-shape in her head. “I kinda remember that.”
“They loved you, but they were trying to save the whole planet. I’m sure they did not enjoy being away from you.”
She choked up, thinking back to her mother’s office, the last message she’d ever send. “I know. I saw the email.”
Pet made a soothing sort of trill noise and rubbed against her cheek. “You still have parents, and they need you to be strong.”
Kiera curled tighter around Pet and caught herself loving it like one might a cat or dog―no more than that: like a friend. She debated the idea of an artificial intelligence counting as a real person until the exhaustion of walking for most of a day dragged her into sleep.
Her eyes opened to a rainless morning, up early since she’d settled down much sooner than usual. After wandering outside to find a spot to relieve herself, she returned, shook dried mud off her poncho, and put it on. One protein bar and half a bottle of water later, she resumed walking.
The desert had become a vast field of muck. At least without the driving downpour, mud only covered her up to the shins, nothing splashed. As the day wore on, fields of syrupy goop sunbaked to a spongy texture like walking over a huge pan of brownies that had been out of the oven for only minutes. Pet drifted by her side, matching her pace. She turned her head about, staring at the vast nothingness in all directions. The clear day let the Citadel appear as a distant shiny darkness off to the right, but except for the occasional glint of metal in that direction, the horizon all around remained featureless.
She looked down at her feet, daydreaming about her closet back in the suburban lie, and all the shoes she had. Flip-flops, jelly shoes, dress shoes, at least four pairs of sneakers, an entire cardboard box stuffed full of floppy ballet flats, and a few pairs of boots. Of course, none of it had been real. Her attempt to grab at reality conjured the image of canvas sneakers, heavy rubberized boots, or sitting around the house barefoot.
Oh. I guess we didn’t go out much. Too dangerous back then. Breathing masks and raincoats and stuff.
Pet read a different, happier story. Something light about a bunch of teenage vampires getting in love triangles. More like quadrangles… or other bigger shapes that didn’t have names. She fantasized about being the Warrior Princess of the Wasteland, which got her wanting a spear. The laser was a far more effective weapon, but it didn’t match her outfit. Dog leather flapped at her knees, lofted on the occasional gust of wind.
She snarled at the stupidity of society poisoning itself. It seemed ridiculous that anyone had ever wanted to kick the Earth in the balls and knock humanity back to primitive society. More likely, they didn’t care how much damage happened as long as they got rich. Bio-Mom had spent hours ranting at the walls about ‘stupid politicians.’
Yeah, all that complaining sure helped. She sighed.
Kiera stopped and squatted, poncho draping on the ground over her feet. A sudden, crippling sadness came on. She couldn’t believe she’d been stranded in the desert with a scrap of dead dog for clothing and no one she’d ever known alive. She must have had real friends at school at some point, but couldn’t remember any of them. Whenever she tried to think of school friends, she only saw false children from the VR world. Where once had been cities, roads, trees, animals… everything had become dust. How horrible had the air been to dissolve skyscrapers?
“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Pet, nudging her shoulder. “I would cry with you if I could.”
“I…” She wiped her cheeks. “I’m scared.”
“It’s all right to be frightened. You’re trying to do something way too big for an eleven-year-old. But… you don’t have a better choice. If you get caught, you’re no worse off than if you give yourself up. You’re a brave girl, Kiera. A lot tougher than you give yourself credit for. You got this.”
Kiera grinned. “I’m going to take on the whole Citadel and all those robots with one laser pistol and this?” She indicated the poncho. “I don’t have armor.”
“Not every map is designed for a head-on charge. You’re too fond of the direct approach.”
She blinked. “How do you know that?”
Pet wobbled with glee. “Network access.”
“Out here?” She held her arm out to the side, gesturing at the nothing. Wind took the opportunity to slip under the poncho and steal some of her sweat away. “Oh, that’s nice.” She stood and held her arms up to cool off in the breeze. “It’s sooooo hot.”
“No. Not here. Where you found me. C’mon. Cheer up. We are almost there.”
“Okay.” She let her arms flop back at her sides.
Pet glided off again. She followed at a hopeful pace, spitting out hair every so often when the wind threw it in her face. Hours later, she entered another small bit of ruined city. Three-ish blocks of paved street sparkled and gleamed, coated by a dusting of ice crystals.
“Don’t go that way,” said Pet. “That’s all glass.”
Kiera curled her toes and cringed. “Eep.”
“Follow.” Pet circled to the left, leading her around the outside of the ruin. A cluster of steel barrels protruded a few inches out of the ground, hinting that a good bit of city might be buried. “Almost there.”
She stepped past scraps of chain link fence into the back yard of a mostly-solid building with few windows. Some of the steel poles resembled half-molten candles. Tall, narrow strips on the sides of the building where glass had once been gave the structure a sinister look. None of the openings were wide enough for a person to squeeze through, making her wonder what sort of place this had been.
Pet stopped by a set of steel double doors. “Can you open these?”
“No idea.” She grabbed the handle and pulled it an inch or so open before it stuck. Grunting, she braced one foot on the other door and hauled with both hands until she dragged the door far enough to create a gap she could squeeze through. “Guess I can.”
“Be careful,” said Pet, within seconds of entering.
Kiera wriggled past the doors and stopped short at the sight of a large room with most of the floor collapsed into the basement. A few heavy beams formed a grid where the softer parts had given out during years of exposure to the elements. “What was this place?”
“A Citadel office. It used to be a government building, but during the final phase, they let the company use it in hopes more resources might prevent… well, Cloudfall.” Pet floated out over the room. “You need to go acro
ss this if the beams are safe. Otherwise, find a spot to climb down here and back up on the other side.”
Kiera crept closer to the edge, making the floor creak. “Can you tell if it’s safe?”
“I do not weigh enough.”
She eased her right foot forward onto a six-inch-wide beam. It didn’t move or make noise, so she leaned all her weight on that leg. For a few seconds, she balanced on one foot before trusting the beam enough to step forward with her right. Below, the basement promised a painful landing on sharp chunks of former floor, furniture, and unrecognizable machinery. The fall itself wouldn’t hurt as much as what pointy object she might land on.
Advancing with short in-line steps, Kiera wobbled across the room, following her narrow path. The fall won’t kill me. It’s only one story. I’m not going to fall. Please don’t let me get a splinter in my foot. At the far end, she resisted the temptation to jump back to solid floor. Instead, she got down on all fours and crawled over a fringe of steel mesh between her and cracked tiles where a hallway remained solid.
She rolled around to sit and checked her feet for splinters. Finding none, she slumped with relief, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. “This is stupid. I should go let the robots catch me. How am I going to sneak into the Citadel and bust them out? It’s so stupid.”
“Even if you are caught, the end result would be no different from you surrendering. At least try.”
She stretched her legs out and rubbed her thighs, sore from all the walking. “Yeah… I guess.”
“It’s right in here.” Pet floated past the doorway behind her.
Kiera rolled over and stood, dusting off her knees before stumbling forward. “What am I looking for?”
“This.” Pet floated up to a metal door that resembled an elevator.
“Ooo-kay…” She crept over. “It’s got no handles.”
Pet projected a laser pointer dot on a black square on the wall beside the door. “Try putting your hand there.”
Duh. “That worked at the place that got me in deep trouble.” She reached forward and waved her hand by the dark panel.
The steel doors hissed and snapped open, revealing the elevator she expected it to be.
She leapt back with a yelp.
“What is wrong?” asked Pet, concern in its voice.
“N-nothing. Loud. Didn’t expect to like fly open like that.” Guess I go in. She crept forward and turned back to face the doors. Pet hovered over her left shoulder. The control panel had two buttons, so she hit the one that didn’t glow.
The elevator doors closed as snappishly as they’d opened, and the cab went down.
“Whoa. This place has power! How’s that possible?”
“The facility has a small solar array, and superconducting batteries that feed the elevator and the space below. Citadel Corporation used a separate self-contained system from the rest of the building.”
“Oh.” She lifted and dropped her toes, fidgeting while waiting and amusing herself by leaving silt footprints on the clean steel floor. “Guess it doesn’t make sense to build a secret base if it dies when street power goes out.”
With a ping, the elevator doors parted to reveal a dim hallway with blue-cast steel floors and walls. Though not cold, the corridor made her glad she’d brought the fur poncho. A door went to the left not far from the elevator, opposite another to the right. The hallway continued past that to a third door at the end by a set of metal locker cabinets. A hint of dust lingered in the air, but other than smelling stale, the place appeared clean.
“Wow…” She walked forward, looking around. When she reached the facing doors, she glanced left and right.
The room on the left contained four bunk beds with solid white frames and dark navy sheets, as well as small desks and more lockers. On the right, the doorway led into an area that resembled a cross between a living room and a tiny cafeteria. An enormous eighty-inch flat panel screen took up the far right corner in front of a black leather sectional. Another door led to a room of cubicle workstations.
She leaned in enough to put her foot down on carpet―so she could remember what it felt like.
“The fabricator is down here.” Pet drifted to the far door, its glow reflecting in a beautiful blue shimmer off the metal walls and floor.
“Right.” Kiera trotted after.
Two shower stalls stood on the left side of a steel bench that divided the innermost room in half. Large storage cabinets covered the wall straight ahead opposite the door. A refrigerator-sized steel box on the right sat beside a chamber with a rounded plastic wall and a metal disc. It made her think teleportation chamber or medical scanner. The machine’s left side had two shelves on articulated swing arms like something out of a dentist’s office.
“Wow.” She set the satchel down on the bench and took the poncho off. “Shower time. Do they work?”
“I am uncertain, but I predict you will find out soon.”
Kiera, grinning, stepped into the closer of the two stalls and pulled the sliding glass door shut. Tiny bottles of shampoo and a miniature soap like from a hotel sat in a recessed cubby. Both looked quite old, but not beyond usefulness. She gripped the faucets and turned, squealing with delight when water sprayed all over her. Though it didn’t approach hot, it had enough warmth not to make her scream. Unsure how much remained in whatever tanks fed it, she rushed cleaning herself.
Watching dirty water swirl around her feet and into the drain made the past months feel like a dream. The normality of showering in a real stall with actual soap and shampoo hit her hard, and she pined again for friends who had never existed and parents she barely remembered.
It wasn’t real. It stinks, but this is the world. Kiera took a deep breath and let it out slow before shutting off the water. She stepped out into the much colder-seeming room, dripping.
“Crap. Towels?”
Pet bumped into one of the lockers. “Probably in here.”
She wandered over and searched the lockers, finding dry-rotted blue jumpsuits that collapsed at her touch, a few sets of men’s underwear that also fell apart, and a plastic pack of white socks that had almost as much dead bug larva in it as it did cloth. “Eww.”
“Oh well.” She waved her hands over herself. Air-drying on the edge of the artificial river after baths had become the norm and no longer felt weird. Between walking in circles around the bench, and weak air-conditioning, she dried in a few minutes and pulled her poncho back on. “Okay, so… fabricator time.”
“You should take that off again and stand in the booth,” said Pet.
“Why? It’s kinda cold down here.” She hugged the poncho.
Pet wobbled, chuckling. “It needs to measure you. Unless you would like some odd-shaped pants, I suggest you allow it to scan an accurate idea of your dimensions.”
“Fine.” She sighed and disrobed again.
After twisting her long, thick hair up into a fat bun, she stepped into the ‘teleportation chamber’ and turned to face out. “So… how do I make it work from here?”
“I’ll do it,” chirped Pet, floating out of view to the right. “Stand still with your arms relaxed at your sides.”
The large machine beeped a few times, and a grid of blue laser-lines appeared all over Kiera’s body. Glowing boxes shrank and expanded back and forth for a few seconds before disappearing.
“Outfit, juvenile-four, standard,” said a robotic voice from the giant cabinet.
Her platform vibrated as the entire device whirred.
“Do I have to stay here?” asked Kiera.
“No, it’s done.”
She stepped down off the pedestal. One of the shelves swung around front, positioning itself under a slot a second before the machine spat out a pair of high-top black sneakers. A pair of thin white socks followed, then a clingy pair of spandex-y shorts that looked so skimpy they had to be intended as underwear. A tank top came next before two larger bundles of blue fabric burped out onto the plate: a short-sleeved, stretchy s
hirt and a pair of baggy pants.
“Ooh! Real clothes!”
She pulled on the shorts, which felt incredibly weird and clingy in all the wrong places after going for so long without any undergarments. She fidgeted, unsure if she liked the sensation, but left them on. After putting on the tank top, she stuffed her feet in the socks, which stopped right below her ankles. The shirt fit perfectly, though snug and clingy like the shorts. An elastic waist held the loose pants up without a belt. Last, she stepped into the Velcro-secured sneakers, stood, and stared down at herself.
“This is so weird. I feel like I’m in some kinda space movie.” She twisted side-to-side, waving her arms and testing how it felt to wear real clothing again. “Going to the bathroom is going to be a pain… at least, without actual toilets.” Still though: real clothes. She squeed and hugged herself. “Do I look like an Exalted?”
“You do,” said Pet.
“It feels like forever since I’ve had legit clothes on.” She fidgeted. “Does it mean I’ve gone total primitive if it’s kinda uncomfortable?”
Pet giggled. “Not to make light of a bad situation, but you have been without clothes from 2033 until 2094. In VR, you had the appearance of clothing, but sensory input from your body would have conflicted. I bet there had been times where you felt strange.”
Kiera bit her lip. More than once, she’d gotten odd sensations, like cold gooey slime that didn’t match her perceived reality or a sense that she hadn’t been wearing anything. “Yeah. Ugh. I’m going to melt if I go outside in this.” She stared at the pitiful poncho. “How sad is that? I finally get real clothes and I kinda prefer the rag.”
“Well… It would not be wise for you to wear those outside. You would attract unwanted notice. If you encounter other tribes, they would believe you are Exalted and probably be hostile or attempt to abduct you for trade back to the Citadel.”
She shivered with a brief flashback of being tied up on a pull cart. “Uhh… Really?”
“If they did not attempt to harm you out of anger at how Exalted treat them, they would take you to the Citadel hoping for a reward, which would defeat the purpose of your attempting to sneak in. If you tried to run away, they would assume you suffered mental issues and forcibly bring you back.”
Citadel: The Concordant Sequence Page 28