by P. S. Lurie
“Bored of the Upperlands?”
“It’s lonely. I wanted to return home. See what I could salvage. See if anyone survived the cull. Then I spotted you...”
With that Ronan shoots the man in the chest with the gun that he reclaimed from Jack. The gunshot that reverberates along the enclosed space is deafening. Patrick has no time to react, other than to fall on the floor as his life ends without any fanfare and we’ve lost the opportunity to hear what he was about to say.
Theia
Adam Jefferson is motionless and I loosen my grip, silently and fleetingly expectant that he will gasp for air and life will re-enter him but, as the fabric slips away, a purple bruise that lines his neck is prominent enough to suggest otherwise. He is dead and I am a murderer. I fall back on myself and take in what I’ve done.
A scream escapes my throat but I cannot speak. I also cannot bring myself to glance in Leda’s direction. Tears roll down my face, not for Dr Jefferson but for the shame of what my sister may have seen and now perceives me to be. I feel ashamed for yielding to the depths of President Callister’s inhumanity; three times she has directed me to kill others and three times I have succumbed.
And then a single, stray hope that I manage to whisper to myself. “Wake up.” If this is a hallucination then I can absolve myself from this murder. “Wake up.” I hear my own voice but all I think is that I will never hear Adam Jefferson’s.
I don’t wake up.
Leda starts to cry, surely aware of what she’s been witness to and now must associate me with. I look around at all of the guards that have been passive in their attendance. I have to imagine each is Ronan to remember that they have been brainwashed and that they are obliging to President Callister’s will but through deception so I can’t hold them accountable.
I stand and make my way to my sister who is being soothed in President Callister’s hold. “What did you make me do?”
“He didn’t deserve to join us in the new world.”
“That’s not true. He played by your rules. He was loyal.”
“And grateful? He tried to buy a promotion by giving up your sister. He had his chance just now and wasn’t determined. If it was the other way around I may be having a similar conversation about you.”
“Leda,” I say cautiously, but my sister ignores me.
“She needs time to remember you. In our utopia...”
“Utopia?” I cut her off, raising my voice as I remember Dr Jefferson’s final, private words to me. “You blew up all of your people. I thought that was the Utopia.”
“That was a misnomer. We’ve paved the way for a world in which only the top one per cent will be invited to join us. Us, Theia. You, me, Leda and Ronan.”
“Don’t,” I begin, imagining in some twisted logic that she was going to refer to us as a family. Is this what she has wanted all along? I change the subject, incapable of entertaining that conversation and instead turn back to the dead body. “He was a good doctor.” Whatever I thought of Adam Jefferson, he was skilled and in a single moment I ended that all.
“He was a treacherous man.”
I don’t want to hear President Callister describe me as determined. I’m exhausted by this explanation for my survival, having spent a year previously listening to nonsense about gratitude and loyalty but learning nothing new, but I carry on as I need to know what she has in store for me. “I’ve been nothing but disloyal to you.”
“You’re determined Theia. I see myself in you. It’s nearly time and then you will understand.”
“Nearly time for what?”
“You’ll have to trust me. Just a few hours left.”
I think about grabbing my sister but I know that even if I manage in taking her away from President Callister I won’t make it halfway across the room before I’m stopped. I try a less threatening approach. “Please give me my sister.”
“Leda?” My sister turns her head to President Callister. “Do you want to go with Theia?”
I brace myself for the answer, not wanting anything more in my life than for her to say yes but I’m beaten down by the thought that even if she remembers how much I love her there is no way she will trust me after what she just witnessed.
“Leda?” asks President Callister again, soothingly.
“No, mama,” my sister replies.
My stomach drops. I have to play the words back over in my head to make sure I heard right but President Callister doesn’t react, knowing exactly what Leda has been convinced to believe. She must have heard this before. My sister was too young to remember our real parents... I have to correct myself because there is a chance she just watched her father die.
“Of course darling.”
My shock quickly turns to anger. “How dare you.”
President Callister looks at me, full of disappointment, as if despite killing Dr Jefferson I have proven nothing. “By the end of the day there will be a new world order. You have to decide whether you want to become part of it or not. Time is running out. I am counting on you. You’re my choice.”
I don’t understand what she means and all I know is that I’m left with just as many questions as I started with and no time to ask them as she turns on her heel and two guards approach me and grab my arms. Leda’s terrified face peers at me from behind President Callister’s hair as she is carried away and I am left struggling against the boys’ grips. “Leda,” I shout, to no avail.
I’m carried away and give up the fight. I’m so transfixed on my sister that I’m out of the room before I realise I didn’t see Dr Jefferson’s body again. I don’t know what they’ll do with it but I can’t imagine it will be kind-hearted.
I don’t recognise any of the corridors we pass until I am hauled back into my sparse room, which only reinforces how large the fortress is and I know that escaping this cell and finding Ronan and Leda will be impossible, not in the least because neither one of my siblings trusts me. Even if I had unlimited time I would be unlikely to break free but now I have learnt that whatever President Callister is aiming for is going to be happening today so I am ready to accept defeat. I have failed, with no chance to rectify anything.
I slump against the side of the bed as the electronic lock that must have been fixed clicks into place. I nestle my head into my knees and shudder as I find myself in the same position that Henry was curled up in as I watched him die.
Then my thought turns to Dr Adam Jefferson and what he said to me as he was dying. I’m not sure about what happens after death and all I know is that I’m stuck in the worst situation of purgatory whilst he seemed to think there was a heaven and he would be welcomed there.
That my mother would choose him over my father even into death.
I play back his last words that will taunt me from beyond the grave. “Thank you for reuniting me with your mother.”
I stand up and flip the table over. The notebook and newly replaced pencil go flying.
“They’re your responsibility now,” I hear, as I imagine Dr Jefferson and my mother in an embrace. I pick up the table and smash it against the wall but the legs remain intact. Nothing I do is right and if anything I have made things worse.
Jack
There’s only stunned silence as Ronan packs the gun into his holster. He turns around to face us but his light is blinding and I have to shield my eyes. I can’t see the dead man on the floor of the tunnel in front of us but I know he’s there.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“He was dangerous. He wanted you all dead in the prison.”
“We all killed people in there,” says Melissa.
“In self-defence,” Ronan continues.
Melissa doesn’t reply because I know she’s thinking about my mother. “He did what he had to do.”
“I told you not to trust him,” Ruskin says.
“Careful. Look who has the weapon.”
“Ronan,” Selene says, trying to diffuse the situation. “Is there anything you haven’t told us? Did he
see something?”
“Maybe other soldiers patrolling the Upperlands. I guess they’re getting ready to open the gates.”
“They didn’t spot you?”
“I wouldn’t be here if they had. Look, I’m sorry. I...”
“Overreacted?” asks Ruskin, unimpressed.
“I’m on edge. It’s been so hard to make it this far and I don’t want anyone to get in our way now.”
“This is a waste of time,” Samuel says. “Let’s get out of here. It can’t be much farther and we can figure it out somewhere it doesn’t smell of death.”
Ronan shines the light over Patrick but the end of the tunnel still isn’t visible.
“Who let him out?” Melissa asks, just as we are about to start back up.
Travis sighs. “What now?”
“Patrick. He was locked in the prison cell.”
“Maybe the electricity short-circuited,” I offer.
“No. Theia broke the device. The lock wouldn’t open from the lack of a Surge; someone would have helped break him out.”
“Nothing to do with me,” says Ronan.
I know Melissa is referring to Maddie, hoping the girl survived the explosions but there’s no point guessing and we don’t have time to figure it out. “It could have been anyone. Ronan’s right about one thing. We need to remember that we may encounter others before we make it to the fortress.”
“So what, we shoot to kill?” Selene asks.
“That’s not what I meant. We just have to be careful.”
“Best get the boy to agree to that,” Travis says. Then to provoke Ruskin, he adds a single blow. “Don’t want him killing your brother.”
I feel Ruskin start to fume so I hold him back. “Let’s go,” I say, as authoritatively as possible because the atmosphere is charged down here. The claustrophobic setting is no doubt adding to the tension and we need to break into the open air above ground if I’m going to be able to calm down Ruskin and Travis.
I could ponder Ronan’s reasons for killing Patrick for time immemorial but that’s not going to achieve anything and there’s no rewinding the clock. So I encourage everyone on, helping Melissa and Selene around the body by finding footholds in the dark as Ronan marches right over without any thought to nudging the body as he passes. I want to take the gun back off him but that’s not likely to happen and I don’t want to aggravate the situation any more than need be.
It’s another couple of minutes but then the light hits a wall.
“Finally,” says Tess.
Ronan directs the beam upwards over similar stairs and to a trapdoor where the roof opens up and we can stand tall without scraping the cast dirt ceiling. We listen but there’s no noise from above us.
“Who wants to go first?” I ask.
“I will,” says Ruskin, almost before I’ve finished so he steps into the shaft of light and climbs the narrow stairwell that leads into the basement of the building that he and I were Rehoused in when we first arrived eighteen months ago. Ruskin pushes on the hatch and it opens without difficulty. He climbs through and out of sight, then shouts down that we’re clear to leave the tunnel behind. I’m not thrilled that he’s the first one up as it puts him in danger but I’m also impressed by his bravery. I’m also relieved that Ronan is second up as he has a gun; not that I condone his reckless shooting but I’d rather it was anyone else if that meant protecting Ruskin.
Ronan has barely set his second foot into the room when I hear the sound of something solid make impact. A body collapses to the floor and I fear the worst.
Zeke
I leave some distance but it is easier than I imagine crawling along the trail of pipes and vents without losing sight of the child soldiers as they drag Theia somewhere. I don’t veer too far off track, which I suppose is because the horizontal chutes map directly above the corridors to heat them. Remarkably well, having to wipe sweat away from my forehead even though I’m not moving fast.
I should sensibly look for a way out of the fortress but I find myself inextricably determined to go after Theia. I don’t know her and have only learnt some basics; if anything, I feel guilty for overhearing conversations that I have no right to be a part of but I also know that she might be the only person in the world that I could trust. Anyone else that I try to recruit for help will report me to the guards for being a traitor before I have the chance to even finish my first plea.
I don’t know what I hope to gain from trying to rescue Theia except for my own benefit in that I’ll have someone else to cover my back, mainly because I’m not sure she wants to be rescued. From what I saw, Theia has a sister – and a brother, I think – and is trying to do everything to not jeopardise being with them. But then President Callister mentioned something about tonight and it gives me pause to consider that I could be best off hiding for the rest of the day until the people here are focused on whatever that is.
“Ouch,” I call out, but hush myself as my skin sizzles on a red hot metal grate on my right side as my hand pushes against it for balance. I blow on my fingers as an immense pain shoots up from my nerve endings. I carry on because that will soon be the least of my problems but not before I reprimand myself for being both careless in what I touched as well as giving myself away by raising my voice. A blast of fiery air blows over me, hotter still.
I’ve almost caught up to the group that I’m following until they stop in front of a door that leads to a hallway that I’m not familiar with. As much as my curiosity to explore the fortress might have been raised over the last few months, I couldn’t have passed through many of the areas as my identification watch didn’t give me access and I wasn’t foolish enough to try and draw attention to myself.
In this position I could unscrew one of the grates and be at arm’s reach from them. I’m worried that I’ll be detected so I slink as low as possible and spread my weight. It’s hot on my front and I breathe as gently as I can but none of them notices my presence. I’m able to look to the sides through slits that funnel air into apartments that resemble mine but, unlike the one in which my father was killed, these look brand new as if they have never been lived in. President Callister told us that space and resources were limited and prevented us from Rehousing more Middlelanders. Then we were welcomed into the fortress as a chosen few but it hadn’t occurred to me until I look at untouched room after room that more could have outlived the genocide from within the Utopia.
One of the guards unlocks a door that takes them, and me, into an even more secluded area. There’s a central corridor and a few rooms off to each side but these are narrower and sparse, with basic bathroom facilities, a table, bed and not much else. There’s no one in these holding rooms so either everyone has continued to be grateful and loyal or, like my father, there was no prospect of incarceration. One room has been smashed up, with the table overturned but I don’t know what happened in there and then I watch as the guards open the door to the room next to it with exactly the same layout but intact.
I steal a glance at Theia and her detainers, far too close to the three of them for comfort and wonder how it could be that President Callister cares this much about one girl. I know that we all serve a purpose for the new world and that each of us was chosen for a specific value above loyalty and gratitude, although I’m now aware that my disobedience outweighed my father’s addition. Removing idleness, greed and other traits that President Callister had no use for left only the purest and most intrinsic to advance our society. Or the most apathetic.
I truly believed that. Even knowing the lies about the flood and what President Callister allowed to happen, I still felt worthy at being in the top percentile and made me determined to bring greatness by training to be a brilliant engineer. If anything, focusing on the future took all of the pain of other deaths far from my mind.
Now I’m the first to admit what a jerk that made me.
But I can make up for it in the only way I can think: find out a way to exact revenge on all of those that did this
to my father and the rest of the Upperlanders and end their dictatorship. It may prove impossible but I have to try.
It might not be enough to resolve myself of guilt but it’s a start and that begins with breaking Theia out of this crude prison block.
I watch as the guards push Theia inside the room and note that she doesn’t try to wrestle back, before I hold my breath as the two pass back underneath me. They leave and I take a moment before I scramble ahead, my entire front dripping with sweat and my throat parched. There’s no opening large enough for me to climb through directly into any of the rooms so I stop above the grilling that is fastened into the vent just past her room. The metal screws are hot and sting my fingers as I turn them and delicately grab the thin bars to stop the square grate from dropping to the floor and causing a racket. I pull it up into the vent and rest it against the side.
Another wall of heat shoots down the vent and I know that even if I could climb back in here it would be deathly so I brace myself to leave and face the fortress. I check one of the watches in my pocket: it’s almost one o’clock, which means the heat will only rise as the day pushes on and warm the entire fortress for the evening.
I lower myself as far as I can but there’s still a gap and as softly as I can drop the final part to the ground and land on my toes. The noise echoes along the corridor and I freeze but no one comes. I look up in the direction in which I can’t return and am left with navigating the dangerous fortress that until a few hours ago was home. First things first...
Panic washes over me when I consider that Theia might want nothing to do with me. Then that worry is overpowered by another: I don’t even know if I can open her door.
I check the digital box by the side of the door’s frame just above the top hinge. It’s a standard pad that my father designed and the LED screen is in working order. I raise a watch and after a short delay the voice speaks back to me. “Edward Drisham. Status: Approved.” The door unlocks.