by A. R. Crebs
“Anyone who’s an enemy of the Sorcēarian is an enemy to humanity!” one person shouted.
“They are against us all!” another screamed.
“Down with the system!” a third rallied.
Whether it was for Dovian and his friends or for the sake of the Underbelly, the people weren’t going to let Feyette’s men go without a fight.
“Go! Move! Get to terminal 5!” James shouted to Aria.
“Roger!” she replied.
Signaling the others, she rounded the corner, giving cover fire as they all darted inside the airport. The battle continued inside, the thundering of ammunition nearly deafening. The security guards at the facility helped cover the four as they made their way to the terminal. Aria and the others sprinted down the halls, firing when necessary. They jumped over the staircases, tucking and rolling as they landed. Ivory seemed to do the same without any issue, just as expected. As they neared the proper terminal, more civilians crashed through the doors of the facility. A violent uprising had started between the lower plate and the upper plate’s military–Walten’s private military. It was unheard of and yet again history in the making.
“Are you there?” James asked.
Aria darted into the terminal marked with a 5, explosions bursting all around. Some shrapnel hit one of the bulletproof windows, cracking its surface. The airport began depressurizing, allowing the high-velocity winds to gush through. The long corridors of the facility acted as a funnel, pulling in the harsh winds. The force knocked Dovian back, and he struggled to slip into the terminal’s tunnel. The others looked back, calling out to him. Taking two heavy steps, he pulled himself in with the help from Ivory, his cape whipping behind him.
“Aria?!” James shouted.
They rounded the corner, the aircraft’s door open and at the ready, the engines purring loudly. With pounding footsteps, they raced inside. Once all four were in, the door slammed shut behind them, and the aircraft instantly pulled out, turned, and sped away from the center plate and high into the air.
“In!” Aria finally replied. “We’re in!”
“Thank goodness….” James’ frequency faded momentarily. They were pulling away too fast. “Call…Roma–Ugh!”
‘What was that?’ Aria felt her heart jump.
“James! James?!” she mentally shouted.
There was no reply.
The radio at the front of the jet crackled with static. “The President’s been hit! I repeat! The President’s been hit!” A frantic voice called through the channel. After a few minutes, there were no more alerts as the jet was already one hundred kilometers away.
Aria’s blood was like ice. Was James okay? She glanced at Troy, who seemed to hold a similar, troubled expression. She ran her hands over her face, massaging her skin where the tight shroud had earlier been.
“We’ll be in Roma soon. I’ll call him then,” she said tiredly, trying her best not to worry.
"Dress Civilian"
Chapter 19
Roma was a vast city decorated with marble statues and pillared buildings that touched the sky. The maroon banners that waved in the chill December air flickered from the many street lamps, connecting one side of the city to the other from a center joint where the festivities would later be held. Roma was one of the few remaining city-states that held onto traditional celebrations and culture. All over, the citizens readied for the masquerade to celebrate the end of the thirty-year war. Some already donned intricately decorated masks and dress clothes. With the people were a multitude of androids–artificially made to look similar to humans but still lacking the necessary features to have them mistaken as such. Androids were often used as servants, but they weren’t always considered simple tools as some of the robots also wore similar masks and seemed eerily as excited for the night’s events as the humans were.
Roma was a highly technologically advanced city-state and the top-rated city in the world for beauty. Using solar and wind energy as a form of power, there were no reactors to operate the metropolis, which meant no reactor cores to be stolen. Because of its natural energy form, Roma was also the cleanest city-state in the world with Fountains in a close second. Besides its sanitary ways, Roma’s pride and joy rested in its mechanical androids. Over three-quarters of Roma’s military were robotic and drone operated, significantly cutting down on human casualties from the constant warfare.
“Welcome to Roma. Your luggage has already been retrieved and will be placed in your rooms. We have your suites reserved. Please see the front desk for your key numbers.” A robot bowed to Aria and her group as they exited their cab and neared the entrance to the massive gold-encrusted hotel.
“Wow…luxurious.” Ivory gawked at the monstrous facility before her.
“Better than Cherno and Saray, that’s for sure,” Troy agreed.
Aria shook her arm, trying to get better reception on her DNAIS as she tried for the fortieth time to call James Clarke. Her brow furrowed as she groaned in irritation.
“Don’t forget about tonight’s festivities! The Pendant Hotel is the key point of interest for the night. We’ll have live bands playing for the masquerade in our ballroom. Also, before the dance, there will be a massive feast held in the town’s center! Free for all!” A female-vocal droid happily bounced as she spoke to the small group. She handed a pamphlet to Dovian.
“Thank you….” Dovian eyed the machine cautiously. He slapped the pamphlet against his hand as he looked at his surroundings. Roma had changed a lot from the last time he had ventured to it, but it still held some aesthetics he was familiar with–stone, marble, Renaissance-inspired architecture, and an overall artistic theme.
“Anything?” Troy asked Aria.
“No…I can’t even get a signal through.” She frowned.
“It’s alright. I’m sure he’s okay.” Troy shoved his cold hands into his jeans. A cold air tugged his military jacket and whipped through his chestnut hair.
“Hope so,” she muttered, slowly climbing the steps of the Pendant Hotel.
The lobby of the hotel was extravagant. The marble floor twisted with specks of sparkling gold. The vaulted ceiling was covered with an ancient painting depicting strange scenes of people floating in the sky, individuals wearing drapery and robes, and a centerpiece depicting a nude man casually reclined with a finger pointing outward toward another finger belonging to an elderly man with long silver hair and a beard. Many wouldn’t recognize the significance, but Dovian did.
“My God…they turned the Sistine into a hotel.” Dovian stared at the ceiling in disbelief. He felt like crying at the sheer dreadfulness of the idea, let alone seeing it with his own eyes.
“State your names,” a droid ordered from behind the front desk.
“Um, Ivanov. Aria Ivanov.” Aria, distracted from her DNAIS, looked up at the clerk.
“No name in database.”
Aria looked at Troy with confusion.
“Clarke,” Troy tried.
“Twenty names with ‘Clarke’ in database. Please state first name.” The droid clicked and beeped as it ran its programs.
“James Clarke,” Troy sighed.
“Denied. No ‘James Clarke’ in database,” the droid replied.
“That’s strange.” Aria’s forehead wrinkled. “Can you try Courtney Clarke?”
“One ‘Courtney Clarke’ in registry. Party of four.”
“That’ll be it,” Aria said. “He must’ve been keeping our names out of any databases in case Walten was searching,” Aria whispered to Troy.
Courtney was the name of James’ digital secretary, named after his late fiancé. They never married; the woman, pregnant with James’ child, had died in a plane crash caused by Cherno military days before the wedding. It was a safe name, one that very few knew about, one reserved for situations such as these.
“Please scan your DNAIS.” The android pointed to the scanner beside it.
Troy and Aria quickly swiped their arms across the scanner.
> “Two do not have DNAIS systems. They are damaged,” Aria said.
“My apologies. I see that now in the special notes section of the registry. You will have to swipe your cards to gain access to your rooms.” The robot quickly dispensed two cards. “For security purposes, scan your thumbprint.” He pointed at the scanner.
Ivory quickly scanned her finger. The receptionist then handed her a card.
“Next.” The robot turned to Dovian.
Dovian hesitated, watching the robot with skepticism. He noticed Aria’s glare and quickly complied with the robot’s request.
“Welcome to Roma. I hope your stay is joyous,” the robot monotonously said. A chime sounded, and a new message fell through its speaker system. “Attached to your DNAIS or keycards is your Pendant Hotel ticket! You have access to all of the special events of tonight’s masquerade! Enjoy your fill of wine and tasty delicacies at tonight’s ball!”
“Thanks,” Aria muttered, leading the group to the massive maroon-colored staircase with golden guide rails.
Taking the ornate elevator to the top level, Aria was awed by the beauty and size of the hotel. She and the others had the whole floor to themselves divided into four rooms. She paused before the curtained window at the end of the hall. Through it, she could see the entire vastness of Roma. The day was already quickly fading into night. The pale-orange of the setting sun cast a beautiful glow against the silver, gold, and maroons of Roma. As the light faded, the artificial candles inside the street lamps flickered aglow. Aria wanted to cry. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her entire life. James knew that she had always dreamed of traveling to Roma. She had gotten close a few times when in battle, but she never made it inside the city’s walls. Quickly stilling her twitching mouth, she sniffed and strode to her room’s door.
“Well, James certainly spared no expense on this trip,” she quickly spouted, a small laugh escaping her.
Troy, knowing that Aria was a hopeless romantic, caught her trembling expression as she quickly swiped her wrist across the scanner on her door. The other’s slowly made their ways to their own rooms.
“Uh, I guess we should get ready for the masquerade,” Aria mumbled, turning to the group. “We don’t know what Euclid will do if he attacks. I want to be on the alert, even if he doesn’t plan on attacking tonight. We must keep our eyes peeled. The masquerade will keep us hidden. Meld with the people, try not to stand out. Dovian, I know that will be hard for you. I’d like for you to keep watch outside for most of the night.”
Dovian nodded to her.
“What about me?” Ivory asked quietly.
“You don’t stick out quite as much as Dovian does. Keep close to Troy and me throughout the night. If anything happens, and we get separated, get to Dovian,” Aria advised.
“Got it.” The blonde nodded.
The four stood quietly outside their rooms.
“Well,” Troy cleared his throat, “let’s check out our rooms! The dance starts in a couple hours!” he said cheerfully as he looked down at his wrist.
“Sounds lovely!” Ivory clapped her hands.
Aria nodded and quickly entered her room, closing the door behind her. Blowing a puff of air out from between her lips, she stared at the enormity of her majestic room. She moaned, laughing quietly. Her bed was monstrous, large enough to fit three people. One entire side of her bedroom overlooked the city, a burgundy curtain pulled to the side. There was a small kitchen of silver and gold and a hallway that led to a spacious bathroom with the fanciest automated shower she had ever seen. The hotel room was as large as her apartment. In the center of it all was a giant marble statue of a man in the nude. He stood contrapposto, an arm holding a sling over his shoulder with his head turned to face Aria as she entered the room.
Aria smiled. “Hello, David.”
Carefully walking up to the statue, she ran her hand along the thick pane of glass that encased the masterpiece. She narrowed her eyes at the gold plaque on the pedestal the figure sat upon. The woman couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she looked at the artist’s name.
“Artist: Michelangelo or Da Vinci. Records of origins have been lost.”
“Michelangelo,” she scoffed. “Come on, people.” She smiled.
Aria’s father may have been a history professor with greater knowledge than the average person, but Aria’s mother was an adept artist and musician. Hanging in her mother’s studio was a poster of this exact sculpture. She would tell Aria all about the classic artists of the ancient past. She also had a multitude of old books that were at one time considered illegal, therefore, were insanely rare as all the others were burned long ago. Now, the items were in Aria’s own bookshelf.
Twirling toward her bed, she noticed the luggage resting beside it. Casually, she hoisted Clarke’s baggage he had prepared for her onto the mattress. She curiously opened the item and squeaked an excitable laugh. Reaching inside, she pulled out a cobalt-blue colored garment, letting it unfold as she lifted it.
It was a dress, the most elegant of its kind. It had cap sleeves, a tight drop-waist bodice lined with sparkling jewels that crossed down the middle and twirled into a gathering on one side of the chiffon tiered fabric that flowed to the ground. Aria’s eyes dropped to the v-cut neckline. She shifted the dress. Its iridescent fabrics sparkled in the light. It was more than beautiful. James definitely spared no expense.
Underneath the dress was a filigree black mask intricately woven with spiraling designs. Matching blue gems sat at the center slightly above the eye holes at a pointed tip. Attached was a handwritten note.
‘Have fun at the masquerade.
–James’
“James,” Aria whispered with a small smile. He was doing this all for her. In the middle of the most dangerous mission of their lives, the riskiest of mankind’s wars, he was thinking of her and her childish fantasies. Aria frowned, her hand trailing over the multitude of jewels on the gown.
“I hope you’re okay,” she whispered sadly.
“You did what?!” Sapphire shrieked.
The sound of her shrill voice made Mr. Walten jump in his leather chair.
“With the rebellion and all…I, I had no choice!” the man stammered.
“You had no choice? You had no choice?!” she repeated. “You called out your military, fine, but then you summoned my pets to do your bidding?! You’re lucky I don’t kill you right now!” she screamed, the sound distorting over the speakers of Walten’s vid com.
“Please, understand my situation!” Walten pleaded.
“Understand my situation, Mr. Walten,” the child said lethally. Her grayish-blue eyes glared at him through the video screen. “You can call out your soldiers any time you like, but you are not to touch my pets, understand? You summoned my demons on the day of the Sabbath and killed thousands! Even a priest! You, sir, are most certainly cursed now. His eye is surely upon you for stepping over the line. Even I know better than to attack today!” The child was livid, and for once, Walten was glad he was locked up safe inside his office away from her. “Since you decided to make this asinine move, His eye is most certainly looking upon me, now!”
“B-but isn’t that what we wanted? We wanted Him to notice?” Walten asked.
“NO!” Sapphire shouted. After a second, her expression relaxed. “No, not yet. We have a very delicate procedure to follow, Mr. Walten. I cannot have you interfering again. If you do, I, myself, will see to it that you reach the afterlife prematurely, got it?”
Walten stared deep into the hellish eyes watching him through the monitor. How a small child could scare him so much was unknown. The man swallowed thickly.
“I, I understand,” he said quickly.
“Good. Now, find Clarke. He’s only caused us trouble since the beginning. I want you to dispose of him…now!” Sapphire quickly pounded on the armrest of whatever she was sitting on, the screen quickly fading to black. The room was filled with a humming silence.
Walten licked his li
ps, his hands shaking as he poured himself a drink. A sudden sound brought his caramel eyes to the front of his office. Appearing out of thin air was Euclid and two of Sapphire’s beasts. The creatures were on their haunches, large chains wrapped around their necks as if they were dogs. The shackles were gripped firmly in one of Euclid’s hands. He smiled crookedly upon the CEO of Bio-Tech.
“Well, shall we?” Euclid asked.
“I’ll show you what room he is in.” Walten quickly downed his drink.
James Clarke lay in his bed inside a small, sterile hospital room. He tiredly gazed at the vid screen, watching the news replay the events of the morning attack on the Underbelly. Military and monsters alike destroyed the civilians down below. As far as he could tell, there were very few survivors. The screen flickered with horrifying images of the dead bodies strewn throughout the streets–soldiers, men, women, and children. No one was spared. The camera panned up toward a small girl with dark hair. Her tiny hand was outstretched as she lay on her belly.
James, with closed eyes, shook his head, frowning. Slowly, he struggled to press the remote’s button to turn off the screen. The image of the small girl reminded him far too much of Aria. He turned his head, looking out the small window beside him. He was on the upper side of Fountains now, unsure as to how he had gotten there at all.
Eyeing the glass of water beside his bed, he reached for it, wincing at the sudden pain that shot through his shoulder. He looked down at his wrapped chest. He had been hit on the right side. Judging by the wrappings, the bullet had gone straight through. He sighed heavily, dropping his head on his pillow. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripping down his pale skin. He had been shot many times before in the past, but this wound felt worse than all the others. Looking at the dressing again, he noticed the many flecks of blood on his chest.