Three Days Till Dawn

by R F Hurteau

  Nero’s lips turned up at the corners. It was a small motion, but easy to interpret. The type of smile that told Edwin that Nero knew exactly what he was thinking, and that he also knew that Edwin would be a good little puppet and take it.

  “I believe,” Edwin said through gritted teeth, “that the idea is to celebrate the salvation of our species, not its near destruction.”

  “Ah, well, what is it you Humans say? Po-ta-toes, po-tah-toes? What kind of an idiot says ‘po-tah-toes’? Surely your kind had enough time on this planet to come up with some better sayings than that.”

  Nero was baiting him. But why? He was always abrasive and rude, but he seemed particularly foul today, and that was saying something. Had it been the fight with his daughter? That must be it.

  Edwin found himself at a loss for words. He decided to focus on the last important detail Nero had given him, rather than dwelling on the ranting.

  The idea that the Council speeches would not be required listening was unprecedented. He almost wanted to point out that there was no way he could have been expected to know something like that, but he thought better of it. Nero wouldn’t care. He would only be opening himself up for further ridicule.

  “Of course,” Edwin said instead. “How foolish of me.”

  “Why, did you make that saying up yourself?”

  Edwin shook his head, confused. “No, I meant—I meant about the speeches.”

  Nero paced the room, sighing dramatically.

  It seemed Edwin had not responded to his taunts in a satisfactory manner. He continued on as if the past few minutes had never happened.

  “This is the one hundred twenty-fifth Anniversary of Sanctuary,” Nero made a theatrical flourish with his hand, “The celebrations must be grander than ever before. More of everything. What about the food? That’s all taken care of?”

  “Yes, the feast has been planned to your specifications, although, if I could just point out, I’ve spoken to Agriculture, and they say the order is, um...exorbitant.”

  Actually, Harlan had said it was a wasteful act of sheer idiocy, but Nero would not care to hear that particular opinion.

  “He said that it will severely deplete our current stores and cause some significant decreases in rations.”

  “We’ll manage,” Nero said with an air of finality, signaling that the matter was closed. “Is that it?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Do you have anything else to tell me?”

  Edwin felt the muscles in his eye twitching. Nero had been the one who said there were things to talk about. Why was he making Edwin feel like a waste of his precious time?

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. Get out.”

  He did not need to be told twice.

  Once outside, he looked over Nero’s list. Typical, he thought to himself as he read each carefully bulleted point.

  Address failure of Security forces to quell general Human unrest surrounding upcoming festivities.

  Address issues concerning rampant disregard of Tube safety regulations.

  Remind all Sigil staff that Therans do not celebrate birthdays and that the covering of Councilwoman Mendon’s office with streamers and confetti was both unwelcome and insulting.

  This one made Edwin chuckle. He secretly believed Councilor Mendon had been thrilled by the Human custom-turned-prank, before Nero had arrived to spoil it.

  The list went on like that for a full page but yielded very little insightful information. Thankfully, his chat with Nero had given him plenty to think about.

  As well as plenty that he’d rather forget.

  Tapestry cells throughout Sanctuary had been holding regular meetings the past few weeks. As a leader in the organization, he had found himself called to several just in the last few days. The increase in activity had made him nervous, but with the celebration tomorrow, it was crucial that they had everything ready to go.

  They planned to use the Anniversary as a cover for a couple of big operations, and there was a lot at stake. Nero’s switch in the order of the proceedings was a hiccup–not insurmountable. It just meant tweaking a few details. If the Council members themselves would not be occupied in the evening, Tapestry would need to have eyes on them.

  Edwin strode quickly away from the lift and had his finger on the keypad of his own office when he heard a voice behind him.

  “Edwin!”

  His finger hovered as he debated whether or not he could get away with pretending he hadn’t heard. The voice belonged to Councilman Prevos. Unlike Nero, Prevos was quite fond of Edwin, and would often find excuses to drag him into long, meandering conversations. At first, he had been able to cherry-pick these ramblings for interesting or important details, but over time it had become more of a chore. Edwin found it hard to focus, instead retreating inside his mind to think about other, more important issues. He would occasionally nod to show he was still listening, but it was rare that he walked away from Prevos with anything more interesting than a stiff neck and a backache from sitting too long.

  He closed his eyes and composed himself, then spun around, greeting Prevos with what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Councilman, how have you been?”

  It was well over an hour before Edwin was able to break away. He was drained, and he still had a long night ahead of him. He considered a quick stop at the commissary, perhaps throwing his rank around for the second time that day to procure an extra cup of coffee. If his rank did not entitle him to an occasional cup of coffee, then what was the point of it all, really? He chuckled to himself.

  The lift door opened onto the main floor and Edwin’s hopes of coffee were quickly dispelled. He spotted Nelson standing in the center of the half-deserted lobby. He was wandering around, peering down each of the corridors as he passed them, wringing his hands and looking at his watch. When he saw Edwin, he let out a visible sigh of relief before running over.

  “Edwin! I need to talk to you!”

  The kid had a crazed look in his eyes that gave Edwin pause.

  He’d seen it before. Nelson sometimes let his imagination get the best of him and would come to Edwin with all sorts of insane narratives about this, that and the other thing.

  “Not now,” Edwin said, “Are you crazy? Your shift starts in ten minutes, you should be getting ready. Sweet Evenmire, Nelson, you’re sweating. Have you been drinking?”

  “What?” Nelson looked flustered. “No, no of course not!”

  “Then what’s this about?”

  Edwin’s eyes flitted around the lobby to be sure they were still alone. A few workers trailed in and out, but not close enough to hear. He lowered his voice all the same. “I’ve just been trapped with Prevos, not to mention Nero. I’m tired, I’m achy, I’m hungry, and I’m in no mood for whatever scheme you’re into this time. I have a meeting to prepare for.”

  “That’s the problem.”

  Though Edwin was almost certain no one was listening, Nelson’s strange behavior would be sure to draw unwanted attention if anyone bothered to glance their way.

  And on top of that, he made no effort to quiet his voice. He spoke with a feverish intensity that he seemed incapable of dialing down. “I’ll be working tonight. I won’t be able to attend—”

  “Shh! Shut it, you idiot!” Edwin hissed. “In here.”

  He half-dragged Nelson backward into the lift and pressed the button for the fourth floor. When the doors had slid closed and they began to move upward, he waved his wrist in front of the keypad and depressed a small red button. The lift stopped halfway between the second and third levels.

  “Make it fast, or someone will get suspicious. What couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “It’s Ben.” Nelson’s expression was expectant, as if this statement explained everything. When Edwin didn’t answer, he added, “He’s gone missing.”

 
; Edwin frowned. “I know, I helped Sylvia look for him earlier. She was acting kind of peculiar. You’re sure he didn’t just go home? Pod Manufacturing was let out early for the systems check.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I checked.” He stood up straighter and gave a sharp nod. “I went there myself!”

  Nelson’s words were defensive, as if Edwin had been about to challenge his statement.

  “I don’t have time for this right now,” snapped Edwin. “Get to the point.”

  “Well, apparently Ben was snooping around in a storage area, and he found...something.”

  “This is a bad time for guessing games, Nelson.”

  “Well, I’m not sure exactly what he found. But Sylvia said he was on the comm with her, and he was going on about this…this moving storage room. He said the whole room went down, just like a lift. He said he was maybe three floors underground.”

  Though the story seemed odd, this made Edwin curious. “Three floors? You mean he found a moving room and ended up in, what, the Geothermal Plant?”

  But Nelson gave a fervent shake of his head. “No, that’s what Sylvia thought, too, at first. But he specifically said he wasn’t in Geo. He said he was somewhere else.”

  Edwin said nothing, thinking hard. He’d never heard of anything else beneath Sanctuary. Surely if such a place existed, the Weaver would have known about it. And if the Weaver had known, he would have told Edwin.

  Wouldn’t he?

  “I think he must have stumbled on something big, Edwin. I’ve never heard of anything but the penal colony that far down. And secret rooms that move? And then to just...vanish?”

  Nelson shook his head. “There’s something more there, I can feel it. And whatever it is, I’m scared for Ben. Do you think...do you think Tapestry could help him?”

  “So, either he’s still hiding down there, or he’s been found and sent to Geothermal. I’ll reach out to my contacts to see if there’s any record of him being taken in. If he’s in Geo, it won’t be easy to get him out,” Edwin said, “but it isn’t impossible. We’ve managed it a few times in the past.”

  He paused, not wanting to dwell on the times they’d attempted and failed such missions. “After the Anniversary, I have a feeling everything’s going to get a lot harder, so we’ll have to act now, add this in to our plans for tomorrow. But usually we’d have more time to prepare...bah!”

  He slammed his fist against the tiny red button and the lift began to move upward once more.

  Edwin was frustrated but determined. He didn’t know Ben, but he knew Sylvia, and she was a good person. If there was a chance he could help her, he’d take it. Tomorrow he would prove to her, to everyone, that the Weaver hadn’t made a mistake putting him in charge. Things would go as planned, no matter the cost.

  “Are...you okay, Edwin?”

  Edwin nodded.

  “I’ll get someone to cover your shift tonight,” he told Nelson with grim determination. “You’re coming to the meeting.”

  Seven

  The Snow’s Cold Embrace

  WILLOW’S heart was heavy as she climbed the wide steps of the D4 Schoolhouse.

  There was a sense of familiarity here, as the building had always been intended for one of the Council members, and it was very similar to the home where she had grown up.

  But this was not a warm, comforting familiarity. The black stone stood proudly against the concrete ground, rising up as if to assert its dominance over its inferior surroundings.

  Just now, the memories it dredged up made her insides churn, and she struggled to keep her composure as she unlocked the door and stepped into the dark interior.

  She walked from room to room, turning on the lights as she went, looking with fresh eyes on the extravagance of the architecture.

  Pillars and carved sculptures rose to high ceilings. An ornate fireplace dominated the center of the house, its white marble facade pristine. The Therans had brought this stone through the Gate when Sanctuary was being built. Her father had told her that there were cities on Thera where everything was white, miles and miles that gleamed like freshly fallen snow. It was such an odd thing to have added to the homes—a fireplace where wood was at a premium and the temperature was always steady and comfortable. In all of Sanctuary’s years, she doubted it had ever been used.

  What a stupid thing to offer Earth, she thought, anger surging up inside her like a storm. She’d never considered it before. A sense of shame stirred deep in her belly.

  Shame at what her own people had done—and everything that they had failed to do.

  What a stupid waste of time, bringing rocks to remind them of home when they should have brought something useful. Something that might have helped.

  That this home would be abandoned and then repurposed to teach the very students who were so reviled by the Elder Council offered a small but welcome comfort. There were a dozen homes like this in each of the residential domes, but when the Human population had begun to rise, all of the Theran inhabitants had migrated to somewhat less impressive housing in what was now considered the Theran district, rather than live and sleep in such close proximity to the places where the Humans and Halfsies were. These abandoned stone behemoths had been transformed into schools and shelters. Willow taught on the first floor, where she and her fellow teachers had sorted the fifty-six school-aged Halfsie children into three classes according to ability. She was in charge of the youngest group.

  Her supplies, in stark contrast to the home, were shabby and dull. When the Sigil school had begun to turn away Halfsies, Willow had felt responsible. She knew it was her father’s doing, and she knew it was wrong. She’d scraped and scrounged to find and collect the things she’d accumulated here: a few desks, although many of the students still had to sit on the floor; a projector that Felix had rigged up for her from spare parts—or rather, Ripley had. Felix’s most recent offering to the school had been several crates of old log sheets smuggled out of the Observatory a few at a time.

  The children used the margins to work out math problems, and those with blank backs for essays and writing practice. Even the youngest among them had been instilled with the ideals of Sanctuary; they wrote in small, neat lettering, conserving space, making what little they had stretch as far as they were able. In the Sigil school, paper was always available, tossed into recycling piles half used, returning over and over from the Reclamation department as fresh, new sheets.

  For her students, this was a luxury they would never know.

  Still, they made do. Willow’s love for her students had proven more important than desks that didn’t wobble or books that weren’t missing pages. They thrived under her tutelage, and she considered it a privilege to teach them.

  As the first ones began to filter in, Willow put on her best smile and began to welcome them.

  ***

  “Is that really what it looks like?” chirped Eloise, pointing at the projection on the wall, her gleaming eyes wide with fascination. She wore a threadbare tunic two sizes too large that hung limp on her tiny frame.

  “Yes,” Willow confirmed with a nod and a smile. “It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Can we go and see it? Like, the real one?” asked Nathaniel, a spirited boy whose pointed ears peeked out from beneath a thick mat of sleek black hair. Willow shook her head.

  “Remember how we talked about the way they sealed Sanctuary up, to protect the Humans from the Sequencing? Well, they sealed it up so well that there isn’t a way in or out anymore. So, I’m afraid we won’t be able to make a field trip to Antiquity’s Gate a part of our studies.”

  “It looks like a jewel,” remarked Sasha, a shy girl who spoke very little during class, and always sat in the back. She did not have pointed ears at all and might have passed for a Human child from behind. The trouble was always the eyes—Halfsies were born with Human features all the time
. But never the eyes. Hers glimmered with golden hues, flashing as she looked around at her classmates, sinking down and looking startled at herself for having spoken aloud.

  Willow acknowledged her statement with a comforting expression and looked around at the other students.

  “That’s very true, Sasha. Can anyone tell me why it looks like that?”

  There were several raised hands, and she pointed to one of them. “Yes, Mikayla?”

  “Is it made of ice?”

  Willow pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly to one side. “That’s an interesting guess, but no. Hugh?”

  “My dad said it’s made out of crystals,” Hugh offered.

  “Correct!”

  Hugh’s chest puffed out with obvious pride. Willow continued the lesson.

  “Antiquity’s Gate is composed of a mysterious crystalline substance. After its discovery, the scientists who studied it said it was like no other crystal found on Earth. They believed it to be extraterrestrial in origin. Who can tell me what ‘extraterrestrial’ means?”

  “From another place,” Hugh answered, “like the Elves.”

  Willow tilted her head back and forth, squinting as she pondered how to explain the difference. “Well, you’re partly right. It means something that’s not from Earth. But the Therans, or Elves as they’re more commonly referred to, are from Earth, technically speaking. Thera has its own gate, which they call the Evenmire. It exists in the same place and time, but on a different plane...but we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, here. I’ll leave that tricky subject for Miss Adeline to explain when you’re older! For now, let’s explore a bit more about the gate.

  “So, we know that Antiquity’s Gate is extraterrestrial because it’s not from Earth. It’s from outer space. The scientists believed that it fell from the sky, much like a meteorite would.”

  “It looks like it’s glowing,” added another student from the back.

  “Yes,” agreed Willow. “It’s also believed that the Gate absorbs and channels sunlight, which is where it gets its power. It’s very sensitive to different types of energy and responds to them in different ways. Can anyone tell me how we know that?”