The Spire

by Peter F Smith

  With her laundry being processed, she utilized cleaning wipes to make herself comfortable for bed and then changed into her spare set of undergarments. She would have preferred a shower, but it would take at least eight hours for the tent to absorb enough moisture from the air to fill the shower and drinking water bladders, both of which were hanging from the ceiling of the first room. She would simply have to wait until morning to bathe properly. She smirked and shook her head at how she was required to “rough it."

  Her parents had told her about the first time they had gone camping as a young couple. Their tent had collapsed under a rain storm and left both of them drenched and freezing under a tree, while Dad frantically tried to put it back up. They spoke as if it were one of the worst vacations they had ever had, but they always brought it up when the opportunity allowed and would hold each other's hand by the end of the story. That was her dad’s inspiration for creating the self-erecting tent using his access to Multi National Robotics research division. However, it wasn't enough for him to solve one problem, he had to solve them all. So not only could the structure of the tent withstand hurricane force winds along with staying in place when anchored down properly, but it also served as a mobile life support system.

  He designed it to absorb moisture from the air to provide clean drinking water, generate electricity when the sun struck several patches on its surface, and even store that power in a thin layer of battery-like material in the base which could wirelessly charge devices placed within it. Because it provided so many features and fit into a space only slightly larger than most standard tents, it allowed campers to carry far less weight and far fewer materials making them very popular before the collapse. Furthermore, the material itself was designed to protect its occupants from fire as well as high velocity debris. Needless to say, their next outing had been far more comfortable, but she suspected, far less interesting because they rarely ever spent much time talking about it.

  Maria found herself staring up at the ceiling of the tent, realizing that she was unable to go to sleep and instead allowing herself to be distracted by such trivial matters like the inception of her tent. She double tapped her palm and began using the virtual display that her lenses were now projecting before her. The lenses tracked her focus and hand movements as she worked her way through the user interface. She made a selection and the inner wall of the tent changed from a solid color to a view of the outside. She double tapped her palm again and the overlaid graphics disappeared from her field of view. Maria rolled onto her side and stared out into the moon lit forest. She began to feel her muscles relax as she watched the swaying of branches and listened to the sounds of the local insects and wild life. The tent flagged a heat source in the distance. It was stationary and looking her direction. The threat detection software classified it as a raccoon and removed the signature from her view, instead only tracking it passively. As she drifted off to sleep a thought worked its way into her consciousness, Hong Kong had no forests.

  ___

  “Why do I insist on doing these things to myself?” she thought as she shimmied up a fissure in the rock. Bracing her arms against either side so that she could bring her feet up and thus raise herself up little more than a foot at a time. Sweat poured down her face, her thighs burned so badly that she honestly thought she might throw up her breakfast. She had a perfectly nice life in the Spire, climate control; comfortable bed… elevators. Yet she insisted on being out here, scraping her skin and risking her safety. She finally reached the top of the fissure and propelled herself over the edge on wobbly arms.

  “This is why,” she rasped looking at the valley below from the highest point in the immediate area. Leaders, which is what she would one day be no matter who she was forced to marry, pushed themselves beyond their comfort zones. They challenged themselves to be better constantly striving to do what others would fear to. She pulled her legs up and crossed them, staring out at the mist-covered valley as the sun’s rays began to fill it. This was a sight few, if any, had witnessed for years and one that the brats of the Spires never would on their own. She took a deep breath and let the moist air fill her lungs and she held it. She stared out over nature at its finest and committed to burning this moment into her memory. This would be the last opportunity she would have for some time to enjoy the wider world.

  Hong Kong was nothing like this. An overgrown metropolis filled to the brim with a slave population of tens of millions who choked on the pollution created by the factories they were forced to work in. She had been once, when they had needed to meet face to face to discuss how to handle the North Korea situation, back when Nathan was a shy little thing that wanted nothing more than to play hide and seek and act out the books he was reading. Jeffery Chen and the industrialized wasteland that was Hong Kong crushed that from the young boy. She knew that if she didn't have something to hold on to such a fate awaited her as well. So she sat there for an hour, until her legs and butt had gone cold and numb, enjoying the sounds of the natural world.

  A glint of light from the rising sun caught her attention. She stared at it and zoomed her contact lenses in to see what was reflecting the light. A cabin, mostly covered in moss, bushes and a few collapsed trees, was hidden like a gem on the forest floor. Her curiosity kicked into full gear as the prospect of investigating an untouched site from the old world began to significantly pull at her. The voice of caution in her mind warned against investigating and she realized that her parents and Tobor would not approve. To allay her concerns, she pulled up a satellite image in the thermal spectrum of the cabin. Seeing nothing larger than a rabbit, she locked the cabin into her contact's navigation system so that no matter what she would always be heading toward it.

  She spent the better part of the day climbing down the cliff and making her way through particularly dense brush. She had noticed on the aerial imagery some clearer paths to the abandoned structure, but the sun would be setting soon. She needed to conduct her visit and get back to her campsite before the nocturnal predators came out, so she stayed on this direct path and dealt with the impediments in her way. Eventually she reached the cabin, her exposed skin scrapped and her knees and elbows muddy from where she had to crawl in several places.

  Before her stood the remains of the old world home. Several of the glass windows were still intact and the wood siding remained in many areas, though moss clung to it. Trees grew around the perimeter, their branches creating a thick canopy over the house. Several others lay along the building itself, collapsed inward with half their roots exposed and the other half still in the dark and nutrient rich soil.

  She slowly approached the building as it sat dark in the fading sunlight. She activated the visual enhancement feature of her contacts and the building jumped to sharp clarity, but this only intensified her concern with her current course of action. As she stepped up to the open doorway, her weight caused the old wooden porch to creak. Her pulse quickened as she gazed into to the space. Before she entered, she placed her hand on the door frame. The wood was cool and dry to the touch. Paint crackled under her grip destined to fall off when she removed her hand. She hung her head and took a calming breath. Fear was a luxury that only the weak indulged in. She had been taught her entire life that fear was to be used to control others and to increase her own awareness, but it should never be allowed to control her.

  One last breath and she looked up and stepped inside. Upon entering what first caught her attention was the lack of plant life invading the space. Yes, twigs and leaves were beginning to encroach on the gaps left in shattered windows but that was the extent of the incursion. In fact, overall, she imagined that this might have been what it looked like before the collapse. A pungent smell filled the air. A large red couch was pushed against the far wall of the living room; small and intricate plant patterns were sown into its surface. She ran her fingers over them noticing how smooth the green threading was. Directly above the couch was a large flag pinned to the wall, long lines filled with stars cre
ated an x pattern. She recognized it from her history lessons as the battle flag of the short lived Virginia Republic.

  She walked over to the bookshelves along another wall, stepping over old cans with partly used candles located in them. The books were in incredibly good condition given the years they had sat here. She grabbed one from the shelf and opened it. She let her fingers fall upon the paper and took in the smell that came from it. Her father was a man of efficiency and conservation. Physical books made of paper were, as far as her father was concerned, anachronistic and wasteful with the creation of digital media. While she could understand his preference for electronic materials given their ability for easy storage, access, and information retrieval, there was something incredibly satisfying about holding a book in her hands. She always remembered fondly the nights she and her mother would read The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. She hadn't read a real paper book since before the collapse. She shrugged her pack off and put the book inside. She would explore its pages as she had this wilderness. As she zipped up the back pack she made note of the author’s name, Ayn Rand.

  “Hope she knew how to write an interesting story."

  Maria crept further into the abandoned space. The kitchen floor was clean except for a small pile of animal bones picked clean by whatever predator had made this place its home. She spent some time opening cupboards and looking at the cooking tools inside, smirking at the idea that while things change over time they never really change all that much. She was able to discern what most of the implements were for because they were similar to those she used when cooking with her parents for their family meals. The only things that were really different was the lack of a dishwasher and the stove. Theirs operated off natural gas piped into the Spire from an underground well. This was one of the large cast iron wood stoves that must have been old even before the virus killed most of humanity.

  She reached out to touch it and stopped. It took her a moment to realize what was wrong and to fully mentally process the information; the stove was still warm. Her heart began to pound and she could hear it in her ears. Animals and ferals didn't use stoves. She secured her backpack and moved quickly for the door. She needed to put as much distance as she could between herself and this cabin. As she was leaving the kitchen, her world was plunged into darkness as her contact lenses deactivated and stopped providing her with low light vision. She cursed as she ran into the door frame between the kitchen and living space. She tried to reactivate the system but couldn't even access basic functions. It was completely offline. She took a deep breath and shoved down the panic that was welling up within her. She knew something was going on. The technology behind her contacts was as close to perfect as her father could make it. It didn’t fail and certainly was not likely to when she was inside a cabin she had just learned was inhabited.

  Her eyes adjusted, and she moved swiftly toward the door and the waning day light that streamed through it. The change in that light was subtle, but it felt like a hand forced against her chest, bringing her to a sudden stop centimeters from her goal. A man entered, who she could only assume was the cabin’s owner. He was intimidatingly tall and broad in the shoulders. His flame red beard was long and wiry, hinting at the color of his hair hidden beneath the ominous hood which flowed into a cloak that reached the ground. He looked directly at her, his lips parting to show yellowed and missing teeth. His hands swept the cloak back, and the dying light glinted off well-cared-for knives and the handle of a pistol was just visible.

  “Welcome to my home. Why don't you stay awhile?”

  6

  She stood there frozen and at a loss for words. Until this very moment, she had either met or knew of every free person left on the surface of the Earth, or so she thought. With this ominous mountain of a man standing between her and escape, her world view was immediately changed, and she was doing her best to process the new information.

  He took a step toward her, and she could sense his intimidating mass moving below his cloak. She stepped back mirroring his movement. She felt her stomach fall under his intense and never failing gaze. His eyes were the coldest she had ever experienced, and she began to experience a familiar sensation. The very same one she felt the last time Chen had leered at her across the bonfire as if he was going to have her and it was a forgone conclusion.

  “Sit." The word coming out like a gunshot. She slowly backed up to the couch and lowered herself into its well-worn fabric.

  He grabbed a stool from against the wall and placed it mere centimeters from her. “Ya know, where I come from breaking into someone's home and stealing their stuff can end you up dead."

  She tried to respond but the words caught in her throat. “I assume they didn't teach you any manners in that Spire that you've been hiding in all your life."

  Her blood ran cold and her stomach tied into knots. “How do you know where I’m from?”

  He rolled his eyes and leaned forward. The stink of his breath mixed with missing and yellowing teeth to make her skin crawl. “They must be raisin’ you dumb. Who else could look as healthy and as well dressed as you? ‘sides, ya got his eyes."

  “Whose?”

  “Who else? Daddy Patterson."

  She sat back into the couch pressed there by the invisible hand of shock. “How do you know my father?”

  Chuckling he said, “Full of questions, ain't ya? Well princess, pretty much everyone knew your dad. Once the shit hit the fan, me and my boys though, you could say, we worked for him. Only thing is we didn’t know that we were. Hell, only reason I'm here and they're all worm crap is because I realized it in time."

  “You’re lying. My dad wouldn't work with someone like you." Even through her fear, she found the ability to be offended at the very thought of her father employing someone who she knew in her core was evil, even after only knowing him a few brief minutes.

  He threw his head back and laughed, “Oh, you are your father’s daughter. Living all high up in that tower make you think you’re better than the rest of us down here, huh? Well sweetheart, you ain't so smart. I’ve managed to avoid your family’s robotic death squads for around fifteen years now.”

  Shock overcame her. The idea that her father was sending out robotic units to kill survivors of the plague was preposterous. Her disbelief must have been visible as mock sympathy flowed across his face and into his motions. “Oh dear, old daddy didn't tell you what he was doing, did he? Oh darling, you just learned of the tip of the iceberg."

  “Bullshit,” she hissed. “My dad is brilliant. If my family's military units were hunting you, you would have been dead long ago."

  He stood, towering over her. He began to remove the cloak. “See this here, I’m wearin’ what used to belong to a Federal oppressor before I killed him for it. Great for preventing scanners from detecting body heat, and with a few modifications, it's great for shutting down nearby electronics too."

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because last night, it let me get close enough to that fancy tent of yours to use this," he said, uncoupling a pair of goggles from a harness that was wrapped around his torso. He placed them on the chair and glared down at her. He wet his lips with his tongue.

  “Gotta say, while I enjoyed watching you bathe in thermal, I’m going to enjoy seeing you naked without the goggles."

  She shot to her feet, trying to bolt from him, only to have his massive club of a hand clamp down onto her shoulder and force her back onto the couch. “Where ya going sweetie? You only just got here,” he said laughing, “and I sure as hell ain't letting a Patterson leave without experiencing my hospitality and gratitude for everything they've done for me."

  His hand snapped to her throat and pinned her back to the couch, the sudden blow and lack of air from his steel like grip causing the world to go black for a moment. Once it cleared, she could feel and hear him grabbing at his belt with his free hand. He put his face beside hers, his stench making her eyes water. “It's been a long time since I been with a woman, ba
by, and I’m real excited about getting back at your old man for what he did to me and mine. It's going to be rough."

  At the moment, with her fate so clearly outlined, a strong sense of calm washed over her. He was strong and deadly. Years of living in the wilderness had shaped him into the beast that meant to force itself on her, but if years of training with Tobor had taught her anything, it was that keeping calm and being clear minded could see her through nearly every situation. So she waited, conserving her energy for the right moment to strike. It came when he worked his belt loose. His pants fell to the ground with a heavy metal thud from the weight of the buckle. In his lust for gratification and revenge, he made the mistake of taking his hands from her throat so he could remove her shorts. The moment he did she put both her leg and arm into motion. Her foot planted squarely into his testicles. Years of long distance running, weight training, and hand to hand combat with Toby had given her the ability to push through and bring to bear the maximum amount of destructive force she could.

  His eyes bulged out so much she thought they might leap from their sockets. He would have cried out if it weren’t for the fact that she had jammed her hand directly into his throat, cutting off his supply of air for a moment and making future attempts at breathing very difficult. She moved her hand from his throat to his head and threw his considerable bulk to the floor. She grabbed the goggles from the chair and brought them down several times onto the side of his skull. Not sure if the crunching sound she heard came from the equipment or his head, she didn't stop until she saw a pool of blood. Only then did she throw the shattered device to the side.