Cold World

by P. Mattern

  When I realize that it is my kid sister Bree, my heart literally stops for a moment.

  She is alone, apparently, and my mind is flooded with unanswered and barely articulated questions. I wordlessly hand the binoculars back to Rollo, who is staring at me and frowning. I must have made a noise when I saw Bree, I decide. A weird enough one to spook him.

  Without even thinking, about it I dart out from behind the shrubbery and start running toward the wooly mammoth. I see the figure kind of stand up in the makeshift footholds on the front of the beast. She is raising a spear up and shielding her eyes, likely watching my antlike figure hurtling toward her on the open plain. I was running as fast as I could. I am wondering how she managed to acquire a spear in the short time since she disappeared from the population of Citizens Cove, and simultaneously thinking that it would be the height of irony if she harpooned me with her weapon when we were on the verge of being reunited.

  But as we get closer to each other I can see a smile spreading over her beautiful heart shaped face and the wind carries her excited squeal to my ears.

  “BILLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”

  Time speeds up and though I am too breathless from sprinting with my fully loaded backpack, I stand looking up at her on top of the Mammoth, my chest heaving from exertion.

  She flips one of her legs over to the side and nimbly climbs down from her beast, jumping into my arms.

  We are still clinging together like long lost siblings when Rollo saunters up. He isn’t as out of breath as I am, and he lets out a yell of relief and triumph.

  Bree lets go of my neck and gives Rollo a hug also. Even though it's only been a few days she seems changed, less skinny, more mature in a way I can’t quite put a finger on. Rollo starts to tell me that it looks like Bree had sprouted boobs and I punch his arm, hard, for even noticing.

  “Billy, Billy how did you and Rollo get here?” she asks, “Did they Xport you too?”

  I stare at her puzzled. Rollo and I exchange looks and I see he is equally confused.

  “Oh of course,” Bree says with a chuckle. “Guess not. You must have found a way out on your own.”

  “We came looking for you!” I tell her, feeling stupidly mushy, like I am about to cry now. “I knew something bad had happened… Rollo knew it because he had gotten some information about a girl caught snooping on the Fifth Floor…”

  “That was you, wasn’t it!”

  “It was!” she says nodding. She scrabbles in a bag hanging low on the side of the 15-foot-tall pachyderm and extracts some berries, which the beast eagerly grabs with the sensitive end of its trunk and transfers to its mouth. “I was trying to find out what happened to Mom and Dad. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d say to leave it alone…”

  Her scathingly true pronouncement causes an awkward silence between us for a few seconds as I realized what a ‘play it safe’ douche I had been.

  “Anyway, back to the Xports, which you seem to know nothing about. Anyone perceived as a troublemaker is sold to the Indigenous peoples that have found a way to exist on the surface of Naris. There are a few different ones.

  “I got lucky. I was traded to the Angeli Terrae, the rough diamonds.”

  I was astounded.

  “So, you said, ‘we.’ Are you a gangbanger now? You belong to some sort of gang?”

  Bree shook her head.

  “More like a tribe hellbent on survival. Ours is part Indigenous peoples and part refugees like myself. Our leader is Vermillion, and his goal is to save the outcasts of Citizens Cove from a fate worse than death.”

  It was a lot to wrap my brain around. I looked over at Rollo, who clarified it for me.

  “Human Trafficking,” he said, “Slave trade basically. Focused mainly on young women,” he finished soberly.

  Bree nodded, “The Angeli Terrae buy as many slaves as they can to liberate us. Like I said, I got lucky. There was a meetup right after they caught me, and I was a late addition to the trade. I was probably gone before you guys even set out to get me. I’m starting to get the hang of it, though, right?”

  “Climb on behind me, Billy!” Bree said, nonchalantly mounting the giant mastodon again. “You too, Rollo, Trixie won’t mind, will you, girl?” She patted the mastodon on the back.

  “Can’t say no to a free ride!” Rollo says cheerfully as he climbs up after me. I hug my sister, still stunned that she’s alive. I would have been grateful to find any friendly human life out here, much less my own little sister.

  That day made me think about the role of fate in our lives. How everything can change in a moment, no matter what you think is going to happen.

  And how it can change again.

  * * *

  It took about 25 minutes by Mammoth to reach the base of the mountains. We all get down so that Bree can lead Trixie up the steep path to the cavern above.

  When we get there, we’re impressed by the sheer enormity of the entrance. It’s as large as an airplane hangar.

  There are several guys in front of it. They’re armed with semiautomatic weapons, which is a shocker.

  “Hari’om!” Bree shouts at them. She follows what is obviously a greeting with a string of unintelligible phrases in a language that don’t ring a bell with me.

  The guys shout and come over, helping guide the mastodon up to the door. Bree talks to them and points to Rollo and I in turn.

  They seem friendly, and address us in English, which I later discover is the second preferred language among the tribal inhabitants.

  The hangar-like part of the cave houses the mammoths they ride when they hunt or are attacked by either beasts or another tribe.

  The mammoths are very domesticated, highly intelligent, and loyally attached to their human keepers.

  There is only one mosaic, prehistoric animal known to exist on Naris that is actually bigger than the Mammoths, but I’ll get to that later.

  I find myself wishing that Pagan will get in some kind of trouble and get sold to the Angeli Terrae, just like Bree did, or figure out how to escape like Rollo and I did.

  A guy can dream, right?

  Chapter 7

  CRIMSON AND CLOVER

  As soon as we pass through the Mammoth Stalls, we enter a hallway with rock walls that glisten under the light of naked bulbs set at intervals to light our way.

  I turn my head to ask the guy accompanying us how this can be, but he anticipates my question before I can articulate it.

  “Solar,” he says, “You can’t see them—the panels I mean. They are on the flats located several stories above us. Places where the mountain tableaus were formed. Only our best climbers can get up there to replace or repair them.”

  He gives me a scrutinizing look.

  “I know you were taught that nothing civilized exists outside of the underground cities governed by the Collesium, but you were taught wrong. Not only the rich survived the Great Upheaval. At least three alternative habitats were prepared by communities that organized and worked together to create a shelter for when global infrastructure failed.

  “They were the visionaries. We owe them everything.” he finished.

  When we get to the end of the hall, it opens up into a large room that seems to house a lot of activities. In one corner, there seems to be a makeshift library housing row upon row of books. The shelves extend up to the ceiling, and there are tables set up in cleared spaces where individuals seem to be reading.

  In another part of the roughly oval room, there is cooking going on, with a staff preparing roasted things, mostly meat, and people lining up to be fed. Rollo mentions that we are starving and we walk over and are handed sticks that resemble shish-kabobs, with roasted meats and root vegetables skewered on them.

  In another far corner, there is a natural waterfall coming out of the rock, a smallish one, and a swimming pool. One glance tells me that the swimmers, who are different ages and body types, are all nude.

  I hear Rollo start to laugh quietly under his breath. I look again an
d realize that there are some flawlessly gorgeous young girls our age bathing over there.

  Rollo elbows me, gesturing.

  “I suddenly need a sponge bath,” he says dreamily. “I wonder if one of those young ladies would help me out with that.”

  “How about you, Billy? I bet you aren’t feeling so fresh-how about a dip in the public baths?”

  Bree blocks our way, her face is flushed and angry.

  “You might be able to get cleaned up later!” she announces, “but for God sakes, stop staring like dorks.

  Right now, you need to be introduced to our leader, Roger Vermillion. He will decide if you have permission to stay here. If he decides you are undesirable for some reason, he will send you both on your way…

  So, I would caution you both to be on your best behavior. And by the way, ‘Oz’ is what everyone calls him.”

  * * *

  At the center of the alcove is cleared activity space, so the inhabitants can transition it between events. Both Rollo and I are slightly mollified after getting a dressing down from Bree. Bree seems so grownup and self-possessed at this point that it fills me with insecurities that I never knew I had.

  I am used to being her older brother, her protector, and at this point I wonder if I she’ll ever need to look up to me again.

  “So Bree, I killed a Saber-toothed tiger!” I announce in a conversational tone.

  She turns as we continue walking, giving me a skeptical look.

  “Really?” she sniffs, “What did you kill it with? A basketball?”

  Her smartass response is starting to irritate me.

  “A flare gun, miss wisecrack,” I tell her. “Went right through it. We had to stamp it out-the burning part.”

  “Then you must have gotten lucky,” Bree says, cutting her eyes up at me, “C’mon, Billy, you never even took archery!”

  Just as I think she is dead set on busting my balls, her tone softens and she says, “But still, you beat Rollo to the draw, and got something to eat for yourselves. Not bad for a growing up in a can!”

  After that, I feel at least a little redeemed. Inwardly, I resolve to step it up so that I can climb back on my former pedestal. Bree is my only family member now and her opinion of me matters more than I care to admit.

  One of the native guys to my right speaks up.

  “A flare would have no effect on some of the Titanosaurs here,” he says. I look at him carefully. He is wearing jeans, a tee shirt and a fur vest like most of the male inhabitants. He looks either my age or a bit older, and he has a shaggy head of hair to his shoulders.

  He smiles, showing a set of perfect teeth.

  “Indigenous,” he says aloud, to my unspoken question, “We were part of a tribe of American Indians, living near here on a reservation. Most of us are Navajo, Ute, or Pamunkey Native Americans.”

  His head dropped for a moment and he stopped talking.

  “Many didn’t make it. Nearly the entire population of Florida, for instance. Much of New England…

  “…and then we can’t forget about what happened to New York!”

  Everything he was saying was the truth, and I felt more uncomfortable about The Great Upheaval than I had before. Somehow when all the collective catastrophes were explained by our teachers at Citizens Cove it didn’t stir up our emotions, it was presented in such a clinical and detached way that it wasn’t anything we could relate to.

  But much of humanity had been wiped out that day. At least they hadn’t lied about that.

  * * *

  Roger Vermillion, aka, ‘OZ’ is as formidable a character. It is blowing my mind to find out we are being safe housed by one of the only enduring tribes on the unforgiving surface of Naris.

  Bree says a few words to him in that language I can’t understand. Rollo and I stand before Oz as he appraises us for a few seconds before speaking.

  “Why do you want to join us?” he asks quietly, in perfect English without an accent.

  I decide to let Rollo speak first.

  “Hi, I’m Rollo. My friend Billy Zhine and I were looking for his sister, after his parents disappeared from our underground city. It is the place of our birth. We never realized what was going on until recently. I guess you could say we were fed a lot of propaganda by the Collesium, not only about the past but also the present.

  “They told us that life on the surface was impossible—clearly it isn’t!”

  I felt like taking a turn then.

  “My friend and I have chosen to live freely, despite being expected to fulfill our prescribed roles dictated by the officials of Citizens Cove and whoever else. We nearly died escaping, and even though we were admittedly unprepared for life on the surface, we managed to survive this far!

  “And I want to be where my sister is. And I think Rollo and I could be an asset here!”

  Oz returns my gaze without blinking. It’s obvious that our fate is entirely in his hands.

  “The Great Upheaval has corrupted everyone,” he says in a cautionary tone. “Global Disasters always do. I want you to realize that some of our practices will not sit well with you. Survival dictates our moral code.

  “To stay here and live among us you will have to accept our culture—am I making myself clear? If you believe you can survive in the wild by yourselves, feel free to depart.

  “But if you choose to remain, you must live as we do.”

  As we are allowing all this to sink in, Rollo raises a tentative hand. As Oz nods, he poses a question.

  “Hate to put it so bluntly, but is cannibalism one of your practices here? Because that would be the only deal breaker I can think of.”

  To my consternation Oz throws back his head and laughs shortly.

  “No,” he responds, “That is the purview of the Underground Collectives.”

  Oz turns to me.

  “Do you have any questions, Billy?” he asks in a mild tone.

  “No,” I tell him, wondering exactly what he meant by his last remark, “I think I’m good.”

  As soon as I finish speaking Oz smiles widely for the first time.

  “Then we will consider you both our newest tribe members,” he tells us, “Your sister will escort you to your sleeping quarters here. I believe you will find our accommodations surprisingly comfortable.”

  The natives we pass by are clapping us on the back or shaking our hands. I feel like I’ve just passed some sort of test without even having done anything.

  Bree seems ecstatic and hugs us both hard.

  “Okay, you knuckleheads,” she says, causing me to again notice how much more grown up she sounds. “Follow me, please. I’ll show you where to stow your gear and I am SURE you will want to bathe first thing…

  “I didn’t have the heart to say anything before, but both of you stink!”

  We follow her and I turn to Rollo.

  “What was that remark Oz made about cannibalism being part of the Underground Collectives? That kind of went over my head. Have you ever even heard the phrase ‘Underground Collectives’ before?”

  “No,” Rollo answers, shaking his head, “But my initial impression was that he was talking about some sort of Cartel or something. Obviously, it wouldn’t have been anything the Collesium would care to share with the general population. But Billy…

  “Did you ever wonder how they FED us all? I mean it’s not like they have an underground cattle farm. The only animal we saw is chicken, and we only got that by cashing in special rations. I think we might have been served up some of our neighbors and maybe even relatives… remember what they did to the general population at the age of forty?”

  My stomach does a sickening flip flop and nausea sweeps over me. I have been a moron, living in a baby’s dream while, probably dining on other humans.

  Including my parents.

  I want to puke.

  Rollo seems to find my turning green expression funny.

  “Well at least from now on you’ll know where your meat is sourced!” he reminds m
e cheerily, followed by “Hey —you’re not gonna puke, are you?”

  And with perfect timing, that’s exactly what I do.

  Chapter 8

  OVER AND OVER

  Our quarters are kind of cool, set up like dorm rooms at a college (which I’ve seen in the movies) and not unlike the dron I’ve shared with my sister. There isn’t a lot of privacy, but each room is divided into four compartments with a storage, a wooden desk that pulls down from the stone wall, a stool, a flat place to put down blankets or a futon like thing that passes as a mattress down here in the Granite City, which is one of the nicknames for where we find ourselves.

  We get settled and then walk down to the public baths. There aren’t too many girls at that hour, it’s mainly guys. Rollo and I jump in with a sense of relief. It is sheer bliss to get clean again. We swim and float and splash each other like we are hanging out in a backyard pool.

  There is a container of what they use for an all-purpose body wash/shampoo here. It has a soapy feel and lathers like soap. We find out later it is made from a root they discovered.

  It has a kind of ‘green smell’ that is pleasant and reminds me of eucalyptus.

  After a while we climb out, having met with a couple inhabitants that could be potential buddies up the road. Rollo and I can’t keep the smiles off our faces. I know we are both thinking the same thing:

  We made it! We escaped, survived an animal attack by the skin of our teeth, and fortuitously caught up with Bree. The funniest part is that she ended up rescuing us, rather than the other way around, but what matters is that we’re all here, and I am grateful she is okay.

  * * *

  An alarm went off early the next morning, one that echoed throughout all the habitats set up for us. At first, I thought it might be a morning wakeup call—after all we no longer had alarms to set—but I soon realized that it was meant to alert everyone to gather in the large common space near the entrance.