by Nirina Stone
I shake my head, wondering if I will survive Sanaa, and doubting it. She tells me she needs to train me to push past pain, past hunger, past anything to survive. “Focus,” she says as she hits my useless arms. “You must be relentless. Relentless. Relentless!” She comes to my room every day, between visits from Eric.
I ask him the same questions Sanaa doesn’t bother answering and Eric laughs at my curiosity. “What would weapons training do for you, Romy?” he asks.
I only had a little bit of time to train before going to Azure, but I know the key points for me were to develop a better trigger eye and a steady hand. When I tell Eric as much, he says, “Sorens use self-defense to disarm those bogged down with weapons. It’s a more efficient way to fight.”
Hmm, I think. That’s a nice thought. “Except if I had a gun, I could shoot Sanaa before she had a chance to get close enough.”
“That may be so,” Eric replies. “But would it surprise you to know Sanaa’s been in exactly that sort of situation, and still won? Without being hit by a single bullet? Would it surprise you it was her versus about a dozen of our enemy?” I think of Sanaa and the way she moves, like something between a slinky cat and the human equivalent of a hurricane. I wonder sometimes if she has any bones in her body.
“I guess not,” I reply. I’d love to watch her in a fight. “But why can’t we train outside?” I look wistfully out the balcony doors.
“You will,” Eric says, “in due time. For now, it’s good for you to train in close quarters.”
Ugh, I think. When in the world would I ever need to fight within close quarters, but I don’t ask him. I just rub my arm, still sore from my training with Sanaa earlier in the day. Sore is an understatement. She’d had my arm curled behind my back—again—and she pinned me on the ground until I could no longer feel my shoulder. It must be broken now, I thought. I fought nausea and bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood—all to avoid fainting in front of her. Who knows what sort of condition I’d wake up to if I lost consciousness around Sanaa.
“Do you give up?” she’d asked. “Do you give in?” Of course not, I thought, but I bit down harder in case my mouth decided otherwise. “You gave up too easily in the cell,” she’d said. “A Soren would have died in there—after taking two of her enemies out.”
Between Sanaa visits and more VR training, I try to stay fit by doing push ups and sit ups and variations of those. I jog on the spot but my legs are aching to run, to feel the burn of a good stride in my thighs, my so-called damaged heart be damned.
They have also brought in music for me, though I don’t play the machine too often. I prefer to be lost in my thoughts, in the silence, most days. Where silence was once something I did not purposely seek, it is now a great source of comfort to me.
I watch the cleaningbots come out of their wall compartments two to three times daily, and sometimes talk to them as they spin and vacuum and skitter around. I try to catch one, but its sensor registers my proximity and they all flit back into the walls, moving faster than any other tiny machine I’ve seen yet.
I’d love to open one and study the mechanics of its insides, but the thought only reminds me of Isaac grunting and collapsing, and I stop.
Eric watches me one day, when I keep my eyes on the tiny bots. “You really do enjoy robotics, don’t you?” he asks.
“I’m intrigued by them,” I admit. “Such tiny mechanics and they can achieve so much.”
“Very true. Though I’ve never studied them nearly as much as you,” he laughs.
“They’re like ants,” I reply, picturing the little critters in our fields. “They don’t get tired. They work and work and work with a particular purpose. They don’t stop. They’re incredible.”
I watch the bots and feel Eric’s eyes on me. Heat rises on the back of my neck, and I’m suddenly self-conscious.
After what seems like hours, he says, “I see you’re educated about the mechanics side of things, but are you aware of the history behind why we created them?”
I’m not, because it’s never been of interest. I’ve always been more keen to know what the little bots are capable of than I am of the whys and the whos. I shake my head, no.
“We created them, or rather, our ancestors created them, to help make our lives easier, really. Although I’m oversimplifying it.”
I think about everything that computers and robots do for us, and I nod. Yes, it makes sense that they would be motivated to create things that help in our daily lives.
“A very long time ago, humans used other humans to make their lives easier, at the detriment of the secondary people’s own lives. They were what were called ‘slaves,’” he says. I remember having a similar conversation with Isaac.
I’m listening to Eric talk about another time, but he could be talking about us now. Today. The Prospo and and the Citizens.
“People created robots so they would not use one another like that again. Well, it’s one of their reasons,” he amends. “We are not meant to be one another’s property.”
Is that what I am? What I was? Property? A slave? I agreed with Isaac when he said we were all necessary, to an extent. I thought it was necessary for him and for me to go around cleaning and fixing the various bots and machines in the Diamond house.
I’m still not convinced people like the Diamonds are so necessary for life in Apex though, except maybe to keep me employed. Hmm.
Eric is friendly enough. I find myself looking forward to his daily visits, and I always take away something new and interesting out of our conversations.
Since he’s also made sure I’m supplied with a daily cup of that delicious hot chocolate, I warm up to him more and more. I still don’t know why I’m here or the purpose of his visits, but I’ll deal with all that as it comes.
“Did you enjoy working for the Prospo?” he asks on another visit.
I think of the word enjoy, and the various things I’ve actually enjoyed, in the past. Like running through our underground caves as a child, or working alongside my parents. It was much harder work, more painful, with longer hours, but I definitely enjoyed it. Was it similar with the Diamonds? Decidedly not.
I did actively try to avoid every one in the family as much as possible, except for Kevin Diamond, and that was only because he would often disappear into his little Virtual Helmet, anyway.
So I answer, “I enjoyed working with Isaac.”
That’s as honest as I can be about my time in Prospo City. It seems like it was years ago, now, though Eric tells me they ‘took’ me less than six months ago.
“Do you think it’s your job to make their lives easier?” He smiles at me like I’m a child.
Well, the fact is, it was my job, wasn’t it? That was the entire purpose of my assignment there, no matter what the Diamond daughter had said. So I answer, “Yes.”
“Hmm,” Eric replies, leaning forward onto his elbows. “Is that fair?” he asks. “Is it their Divine right?”
There he goes again, with the Divinity talk. That is frowned on, right along with the Belief talk. And he knows it.
What do I care about what’s fair and what’s not, anyway? I mean, I would not want to be a Prospo, and that’s the truth. I can’t imagine a more senseless, more boring life. I’m surprised with the thought since it never occurred to me while I was working for the Diamonds. I did not envy them, but I did covet their complete lack of worry for anything. They could flutter around doing unproductive things, and not have to concern themselves with how many credits were left on their Altos, or whether or not they would be able to eat meat with their vegetables that day. It was frustrating!
I was perfectly happy being a Citizen, though. Of that I’m certain.
Maybe Citizens are poor. Maybe we are desperate. But when I had my parents, and fell into bed at the end of the day—exhausted from working our field and home—I was definitely happy.
The only reason I elected to enter Azure was because Mother was about to retire to Mars and I w
ould have had to inherit her job in Prospo City as a ‘personal groomer.’ I couldn’t imagine anything more mind-numbing.
“I have no idea,” I finally answer.
“Well,” he continues despite my flat uninterested voice. “What makes them superior to you?”
Their lineage, is my first thought, but I don’t want to say it out loud to Eric. He will probably follow it up with a question about why I’m ashamed to be a Citizen or something.
He is so far from the truth with that line of thought.
“They think they are superior because of their ancestry,” I finally answer. I realize I have not voiced my own belief. Of course not. But I state what the Prospo say makes them superior, and it’s purely their last names. Purely their blood. Purely luck, really.
Eric says, “Hmm,” again.
I’m starting to get accustomed to his questions. I realize he is really a curious person, and he wants to hear what I believe. He’s encouraging me to question and to discover my own Beliefs. It’s the kind of self-study vanity nonsense that is highly frowned upon in every other City that’s not Soren. I find the exercise mentally exhausting.
“But what do you believe?” Eric insists on one of his many visits.
“I believe the Prospo live in Prospo City because their ancestors left them with a good base.” I don’t hide my irritation.
He shakes his head, no. “See, I’m not convinced that’s what you believe, Romy.”
Not understanding what he wants, I stand with my arms crossed. I turn my face toward the glass doors and wait. I wish he would just tell me what he wants me to say. I wish I could talk to someone else. To anyone else. To Father. I also wish I could take a walk through the lovely big forest right outside my balcony door. It has to smell fresh and woodsy and incredible. I walk toward the doors and want, more than anything, to crack them open, to breathe it all in. Birds constantly fly and weave through the trees in the forest. I bet they sound beautiful.
“What’s on your mind?” Eric asks. Only one thing—I wish he would go away and leave me alone, but I don’t say anything.
“Would you like to go outside?” he asks. I turn to him, my eyebrows high. Is he joking? “I mean, if you’d rather stay in here,” he continues.
I interrupt him with a loud, “Yes!” before he can continue. “Please, yes, I want to go outside,” I repeat breathlessly.
“Normally—” His eyes are on the balcony behind me. “Normally, that would be the next step, but I’m not sure you’re ready.”
Ready for what? For a walk? My legs are stronger now though I was worried my muscles started to atrophy with all my lack of movement over the weeks pre-Sanaa.
Or is he worried I’m not ready to step outside this room to take a look around Soren City?
If he’s worried I’ll try anything like run away or attack someone, he’s right. I’m still ready to if I need to, but so far, he’s treated me well.
My memory of the cold black closet still exists, but it’s less painful now. As it turns out, I was not in there for as long as I thought. Eric has explained that they had to have me in there first while they—and I—figured out my name because they could not be sure I wasn’t a Prospo spy sent in to learn everything I could about the Sorens. All new people are treated much the same way, and are released when they accept a name, even if they just make one up. “The key,” Eric says, “is to accept that we all have names. To accept that being numbered is not an option.”
They could have hurt me—they could have had me beaten or attached to machines, and they haven’t. Not completely understanding why, I’ve begun to respect Eric, to look forward to his visits.
“Do you think you’re smart, Romy?” he asks with a slight frown on his face. I rewind our conversation a bit, wondering where that’s coming from.
“I—I’m smart about many things,” I admit. “But there is still so much more for me to learn.”
It is an obvious observation, but not something I would have said in the past. I used to learn out of necessity. From now on I will learn because I wish to, because it is my desire to learn, no one else’s.
He tilts his head slightly to the left as he stands up, a slight smile on his face. I realize we’ve never both stood up in this room at the same time, and he towers over me making my heart flutter. What is that? The last time it fluttered around a boy, I was seven. His name was Joel—he pulled my hair and ran away—I pined for him for weeks. I can’t possibly be attracted to Eric, though. It’s his height, I decide. He’s by far the tallest person I’ve ever stood next to, and it’s intimidating.
“You’re incredibly smart.” He steps in front of me and uses a finger to tilt my chin until I look in his eyes. My shoulders shiver. This is the first gentle human contact I’ve had in months. I very nearly throw myself into his arms so I can feel someone else’s warm skin on mine again, but I freeze instead and watch his big blues. I hope he doesn’t kiss me. But then I hope he does kiss me. By Odin, I’m so confused! “You’re smarter than all the Prospo and most Citizens,” he finally says, dropping his finger from my chin.
Calling me smarter than the Prospo is not all surprising. They are dense. But most Citizens? That’s a compliment I don’t expect. I’ve known plenty of Citizens I thought could rule the world with their brains alone. I’m pretty flattered. I stand up on my tiptoes and give Eric a quick peck on the cheek before I realize what I’m doing. Oh Odin.
I lean back onto my heels and keep my eyes on his chest.
This is ridiculous. I must be losing my mind, kissing my captor! I watch his chest rise and fall and I wait.
“Alright,” he says over my head. I can’t define the tone in his voice but it sounds pleasant anyway. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking right now. “Put on your shoes,” he continues. “We’re going for a walk.”
Soren City
I haven’t worn shoes in months so the flat sandals are snug and unnatural around my unaccustomed feet.
My closet in the tiny room is full, though. There must be fifteen pairs of shoes in there. For someone who has only ever had one pair at a time until they fall apart, it seems wasteful. Eric assures me I will have a need for all of them, soon enough.
We head out the door and the first thing I notice is a whiff of something. “Is that pine?” I ask, my chin high as I breathe in appreciatively.
My parents used to smuggle a small pine tree into our home once a year, to celebrate a Winter solstice. “It’s our Family secret,” they would whisper as we gave each other gifts of bread and dried fruit and homemade toys wrapped with twine.
I remember the sticky, tacky texture of the stuff under my fingers as I played with the tree’s needles. I never understood why it was a secret, but loved that it was something only the three of us shared.
“It is,” Eric answers brightly. He starts down a narrow hallway to our right. “You will smell pine in every corner here. You’ll get sick of it, before you know it!” he laughs.
I follow him obediently down the hallway, doubting I will ever get fed up of the smell. In fact, it’s the first time my nausea has dissipated since I got here. I want so much to go back to the room, open my balcony doors and let the aroma permeate everything in my room. Before I allow myself to get too excited that I’m out, we turn again and head towards glass veda doors.
Wait—vedas? Have I been in a hotel this entire time? I’ve never been to Soren City, but I always pictured it to be more like Citizen City than Prospo City in its functional versus luxury quotient.
We enter the veda, and I note we’re on the tenth floor. The veda shoots down faster than I expect and I think we’re falling. I reach out and hold the railing, my hand tense.
“Are you okay? Are you afraid of heights?”
“Hardly,” I reply. “I lived on the hundredth floor in Prospo City.”
He smiles, and I notice an almost boyish look to his face that I never noticed before now. He’s usually so serious and put together. This almost carefree, beaming
smile from him is new.
The doors open and we are standing in a large room. No, it’s also a hallway, but it’s so massive, it could easily be a meeting room.
Then there are people every which way I look. They walk swiftly towards all sorts of directions, they are basically a blur, but two or three stop in their tracks to stare at me. How can they possibly know I’m a stranger here? I look down at my outfit, the generic ‘Soren’ uniform of denim and a shirt and flat shoes.
Then I look over at Eric, and decide they must be staring at him. Other than Sanaa, Eric is the only person I’ve seen for such a long time, I started imagining that most Sorens would also be as ridiculously tall. But no—Eric towers over all of them as much as he towers over me.
“Strohm!” People greet and wave as we walk past the masses. They smile pleasantly at me and keep walking.
They continue to speak that beautiful language, the one I don’t recognize, though they throw in a few English words every now and then.
We keep walking, almost as swiftly as the other Sorens, until we reach what I can only imagine is the Town Square. At least it’s not as crowded, I think, as I turn to take in my new surroundings.
The buildings are all made of a matte white stone. The word that comes to mind is limestone, but I’m not sure. I turn to look back at the building we exited, and know we are facing the other side, far from my room. I only know this because there is not a single tree on this side. I wistfully think of the room, wishing I could look at those trees again.
“You want to visit the forest,” Eric says, as if reading my mind. My face probably fell when I turned to see nothing but white stone and buildings. “We’ll go there in a few minutes, but I thought I’d bring you somewhere else first.”
He brings me through the grand entryway of one of the tall white buildings, and we are walking on marble floors. They are not at all like the sterile ones in Prospo City. These ones are beige, with veins of blue and copper and green running through them. I could get lost in their various patterns.