MATCH CITY

by Megan Kreuger

  There are so many forests, lush and green, towards the north. The setting sun reflects strokes of pink and orange over the horizon, brightening the smog and distracting me from the information that boggles my mind, an array of different climates visible in all directions, not just the struggling desert that has been portrayed in our classes.

  After ten minutes we embark on something, small homes and never-ending dome covered fields. They appear desolate at first glance, but as we soar closer to the structures, there appear to be hundreds of different plants growing inside.

  I can see people now, too far for me to notice any detail about who they are, but as we draw near, I notice they are thin and waiflike. This is the first time I’ve ever seen people look this way, without the bold muscle definition and rosy complexions of those in the City. There must be thousands of people working, shuffling from dome to dome, so tiny in appearance.

  I see children working, their bodies the same mangle of boney limbs as the adults, and my heart can’t take it. Suddenly I cough uncontrollably, choking back emotion. All I can do to keep from crying is cough. I can almost feel Apollo glance back.

  The children are so sickly; they must be half the size of kids in the City.

  As we fly over, the villagers stop what they are doing, fall to the earth and remain motionless until we pass. I see a large wall with an expansive area. A platform and tower come into view, wide enough for us to land. Apollo takes us down with a weightless thud—almost no impact. Everything powers down and Roman is the first out, already unloading duffle bags before I start breathing again.

  Apollo is silent and stares ahead, preparing what he’ll say to me perhaps. I feel an unexpected tear roll down my cheek. Turning away, I try to swipe at the moisture with one finger, desperate to avoid his notice. But Apollo is already turning around, gazing at me.

  “We can talk about whatever you want,” he says, in his virile voice, mellow and soothing. Roman emerges out of nowhere, and I quickly turn my head away again.

  “So Freya, this is your first watch? Prepare to be bored out of your mind,” Roman says. We both ignore him. Apollo places his gear into the side compartments, and climbs toward me in the back. He squats in front of me with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands held together like always. “Look…” he starts to say. “They provide our food?” I ask before he can speak.

  “Yeah, they have to.”

  “Why are they all so skinny?”

  “Because they have to provide for themselves and for us…it depends on the year…on the season. They get whatever’s left,” he says. “We’ve never gone without the perfect amount of food, the perfect macronutrients and calories,” I say. “I know,” he replies. His eyes fall to the floor in despondency. “But their alternative is worse, worse than malnourishment.”

  “What’s the alternative? What do they have to be afraid of?”

  “Saevas.”

  Archer mentioned that word. “What is Saevas? What does that mean?” I plead with persistence.

  “Evil,” Apollo says, making eye contact with me again. “Just evil, Freya.” A tremor glides through my body, running me cold to the bone. “Don’t worry. It—they… don’t have adequate weapons or our genetic capabilities,” he says, motioning to the rifles Roman has already pulled from the bags.

  “They’re like animals; they aren’t civilized so no technology.” “So we protect the people from them in exchange for food?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “They are merciless, evil monsters. We kill them on sight. Do you understand?” He suddenly becomes stern and I nod. “Yes, I understand.”

  Apollo gives me a reassuring look before grabbing his rifle and climbing out. He starts stacking bins.We set up to guard the City with our long range weapons, leaving the close range and ancillary weapons in the bags.

  “How often do you see Saevas?” I ask. “Not often. But the very first watch I had they came…and I saw what they are capable of. They slaughter people—they…” he suddenly looks down overcome with emotion, “Before we were able to call for backup. They don’t normally come in large numbers, but that time was different.

  There’s no sympathy, remorse….no feeling in them. Saros says we are the last of civility, the only ones left, and these pagos perpetuate our way of life. But Saevas are different. They roam together, they come in packs, but there isn’t an ounce of humanity in them,” he says, pausing, “They’re beasts.”

  I glance out at the rounded greenhouses. The people are hardly talking, appearing alarmed. The children aren’t playing. There are no lessons, no music, no games, nothing but work. They just grind the day away, meeting their basic needs and giving us an amazing abundance of nourishment. Guilt crawls through me, eating my chest. I want to give them all the rations that fill the bins in the back of the hover-craft.

  “They look like another species of human,” I say softly, still staring over the wall. “Lack of genetic manipulation, and the lack of adequate nutrition,” he says, as if he’s said it before.

  Glancing south, the land extends for miles until it disappears completely. Dust rolls around in the distance, dancing in the emptiness. I guess there is a lot of desert. But in another direction I can see mountains.

  “Where do they come from?” I finally speak again. “Saevas?” I nod. “We don’t know. They survive by killing and taking from other people. They are large…so they must be hunting somewhere, but no one knows where or how they get here. It’s like they appear out of thin air.

  “How many have you killed?”

  “Too many, and not enough,” he says.

  I stay silent, considering his answer and the swiftness in which it came. “Have you ever talked to them?” “No, you kill them before they get anywhere near you. Are you even listening to me?” he almost shouts. “No, I meant the people…the people in the pagos,” I clarify. He calms down.

  “No. It’s forbidden. You’ll be exiled.” Apollo stares at the pagos through binoculars, and sets them down before sitting down next to me again. He looks like he has something important eating at him, that he wants to tell me.

  Roman is listening to music on an ear piece and every so often does push-ups. “The Creators did all of this. The City and our people come first, and they’ll do anything to maintain this way of life…even eliminate those who disobey. But you already know that,” he begins. He’s sitting quietly next to me, examining my expressions.

  We wait silently for a while.

  “Have you talked to Phoenix?” I ask when the thought comes to mind. “No. But I figured it meant you failed. If you would have passed, he would have brought you to the tower to rub it in.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, excitement stinging my chest. “Nothing… he was excited for you two to match. I mean, he started talking about you like 3 years ago.”

  “Even if we passed the scan, that doesn’t mean anything,” I say. “I still get to decide.” I examine Apollo’s reaction. “And should you be telling me how long he was interested in me? Doesn’t that break some sort of friend rule?”

  Apollo smiles like he finds my comment adorable. “First, that’s partially true, you might have a say in who you pair with, but only if your genetics are crap. Secondly, you’re Ursa now, you’ll learn more about me in one hour than Phoenix will ever know in a lifetime,” Apollo states calmly.

  “What? Why?” I question. “It’s just the way it is. You’re going to understand. All of this knowledge is going to eat at you because you are a good person. But the Creators are looking for people they can trust, people who will enforce this way of life once they’re gone. You aren’t going to really be able to have relationships outside of this mess, with people inside the City.

  Look, I care about Phoenix, but he’s on the inside of the bubble. We’re on the outside of the bubble. And that bubble is the difference between real and superficial friendships.”

  Our friendship is real?

  He gets up and gets his water. �
�You want anything?” he asks, while I sit pondering. “No, thanks.” Remember how you said that they were…saving me,” I whisper, when he sits back down. “Yes.” He stares, waiting. “What does that mean?”

  Apollo leans back on his palms, lengthening his muscular chest as he inhales before speaking. “Have you ever notice how the higher in the City you go, the better the genetics?” I don’t answer. “The most beautiful people in the City have the utmost skill and talent, and they are carefully paired with other equally beautiful people with specific skills and talents. The match scanner provides the science to deliver the perfect engineering, but the Creators always have the last say. It cuts time by being more precise for future leadership, the generation of control— Leadership… will have the very best—and you, Freya,” his voice lowers, and those blue eyes pierce through me, “are the best.”

  My mouth is extremely dry, and I clumsily try to take a sip of water, but there must be a hole in my lip because water spills down my chin and onto my shirt. He watches me with hilarity gleaming from those beautiful eyes and laughs softly. “Genetic perfection,” he says sarcastically, gesturing towards me and laughs again. I laugh. I’m embarrassed…or flattered…something.

  “Anyways, we didn’t fail. We just…the doctor said I needed written consent.” Apollo looks at me like I’m an idiot. “But he said there was still the possibility,” I clarify, “And that the low score had to do with the marksman genetics and my…my disorder.”

  Apollo hands me a food bar, but I don’t feel like eating. “You probably won’t have a say, but I could be wrong.

  But I doubt it.”

  We talk about my upcoming training for a while, but the mountains keep haunting me.

  “Where’s my brother?” I ask as the sun fades away entirely. Apollo eyes Roman steadily, hesitant to discuss it here.

  He pauses, gathering his thoughts. A voice from behind us startles me. “Maryn broke the rules. He spoke to the inhabitants of the pagos.” It’s Roman answering after eavesdropping. I pretend I don’t hear him.

  I look to Apollo for a reaction, but his face gives no clues. “Is that true?” I question.

  “Yes. I don’t know who reported him. I— tried to do more for him…it happened so fast and I swear I’ll kill whoever mentioned it to the Council.” His words are frightening but comforting. Apollo must be closer with Maryn than I realized; it give me hope that I can openly talk about him. My eyes swell with water for the second time today.

  “I can’t believe you,” a stern voice bellows from behind me. Apollo watches Roman like a tiger observing a hog, beckoning him to make a move so he has an excuse to devour him. Roman relaxes and changes tone.

  “Maryn broke the law, and he’s held to higher standards than the rest of these nobodies. He’s Ursa. What the hell did you expect?”

  “It was after a Saevas eradication. He got caught up in the moment and spoke to the people,” Apollo says to Roman, in a cold voice that scares me, the information meant to answer my questions. “So what happened? Where is he?” I choke on emotion and my voice squeaks. Apollo’s expression softens.

  “He left on his own, before a formal trial and before he could be lawfully exiled. He took all the rations from our bird and headed for the mountains.”

  I turn toward the majestic, giant peaks again, seeing them in new light, unassuming and still, a polarizing tribute to the City. Could I climb down this tower and sprint for them? What did I expect to find, Maryn trudging through the peaks or hiding in the trees? My Father already lost my mother and now Maryn, but I want him to know what happened. Maybe he would care. I would talk about it; force him to listen, even if he doesn’t want to.

  “What’s in the mountains?” I ask. “We don’t know. I got tried for being an accomplice because I gave Maryn all of the rifles and ammo we had. They let me go though.” “Why?” “Because they need my genetic condition, and they’ve invested millions in my training. I tried to tell Maryn they might do the same for him, but he didn’t want to take the chance. I honestly think he wanted an excuse to leave anyway,” Apollo says. “This lifestyle was hard for him.”

  “I doubt that’s the reason,” Roman remarks, barely audible. “What was that?” Apollo asks, angrily. “You are kept around for Ignis Impetus. Same as me. We keep the people happy. Apollo Ailmar,” he says in a patronizing tone. “Without the pacified people, they’d ask too many questions. You’re here for Ignis Impetus, period.”

  Apollo shrugs with indifference. “Do you take medication?” Roman turns and asks without warning. “Yeah,” Apollo reluctantly answers, before taking a bite of a food bar. “Do we all take medication?” Roman stammers in disbelief. “Everyone on Ursa, or everyone in the City?” Apollo asks. “Relax, only a few that I know of so far…and only Ursa. If someone has a prodigious condition, it’s likely they take medication to reduce the effects.”

  “Did Maryn take medication?” I ask. “Yeah,” he answers me in a way that indicates he thinks I should already know the answer to that. “Do you know what perfection he had?”

  Apollo is speechless a few moments before responding, “Yes.” Our gazes remain on the indigo eyes of the other, reading the expressions unraveling inside our pupils.

  “What perfection do you have?” I ask, softly. “It’s called Accelerated Muscular Hypertrophy A. My muscle growth is faster and my strength is enhanced when I use the antidote or if I miss my dose of medication. The letter after the condition represents the order of diagnosis. Maryn was an A and I’m an A.”

  This man knew my brother better than I knew him. I loved Maryn so much. I love Maryn so much…even if I was struggling in ignorance, stuck on the inside of the bubble.

  Roman lies sleeping, and Apollo’s blue eyes stab away the ugly atmosphere of grey matter, dust and fog. I can’t stop staring at him, at his eyes, like they might leave if I close mine. I suddenly want Apollo to stay near me. Realizing almost everyone I’ve ever truly loved has left me, I think of my mother and Maryn.

  When Apollo blinks and glances away, I long for his gaze to come back. I hope he stays. His eyes betray his words, telling me everything I want to know, contradicting his hard exterior. I can almost physically feel his desire every time he looks at me. We smile at each other again, the flames from the fire illuminating our faces in the darkness.

  9

  Four hours left on watch and it’s Romans turn again to sleep, which is good because I hated being awake with him. Apollo takes a swig out of a water bag and stands next to me. “Night is when most attacks occur,” he says quietly.

  I nod and look at the sleeping pagos. “Do the people have to go through a match scan to have children?” “Nope, they pair and marry whoever they want. Although, they are still limited to just enough children to replace the dying generation, they get to reproduce naturally.” My cheeks flush as those words escape his lips. “Their knowledge is limited. It keeps Saros in power.”

  “I wonder which life I’d prefer after experiencing both,” I say. “Probably the one with the genetic privileges…and food,” he says with a hint of condescension. “I just always think about what life was like before the wars, before the scanner, pairing with anyone a person chose, not having to determine compatibility.”

  “Listen, you can love whoever you choose. The match scan has nothing to do with compatibility; it’s about creating super-humans, molding genetics in just the right way to break through previous evolutionary barriers.”

  “What about all the history on the breakdown of the human family?” I ask. “That’s what happens when people are given total freedom and they think love is something that happens to them,” he answers.

  “It’s not?” I ask, confused.

  “Love doesn’t happen to you, Freya. It might feel that way in the beginning but physical attraction happens to you…but just like anything in life, love is something you actively strive to do. You make your relationship extraordinary by putting in effort and cultivating something. You can’t con
trol the other person, but you can try to make their life great by choosing to give your love freely. Love is always a choice, and the compatibility scanner distorts the free-will of choosing who to love.”

  “My dad didn’t want to pair with my mom. She was assigned to be his spouse,” I say, perhaps on accident. Apollo’s jaw tightens and he looks at the ground, deep in thought. “But he said he fell in love with her later, and that the scanner was right, they produced two Ursa members as a result. He’s so proud…or he was.”

  “Why haven’t you gone to the scanner yet? You’re going to be assigned a spouse next year,” I ask.

  “What? Really? I’m that old?” he responds sarcastically. “Yeah, really,” I say, ignoring his mockery. He laughs a velvety, crisp noise that sweeps softly over him, mesmerizing me and leaving my mouth frozen in a grin.

  Silence hits again and he grows serious, still watching me with fascination. “I’ll go when I find someone I want to go with.” He pauses. “Are you upset about your results?” “No,” I answer quicker than I wanted to. “We only knew each other for a week, but I don’t know if time would have changed anything.”

  “You know he is crazy about you,” Apollo says, sadness sweeps across his eyes. “What, after our one history class together when we were seventeen?” I question. “Oh, so you do remember. He said he thought you believed the gathering was the first time you met.” “No. I remembered. He’s changed a lot.” I roll back a little and hug my legs to my body for warmth. Apollo doesn’t stop watching me.

  “He was kind of mean after the results.”

  “Mean?” he asks incredulously. “I don’t know. I guess cold. He left without a word. He didn’t say anything to me…just left.” Apollo bites on the inside of his lip, thinking. “Probably just disappointed,” he answers. “Before everything, I planned on submitting a plea application since technically we passed, but I don’t want to petition anymore.”

  “Well, then he’s an idiot,” Apollo says, catching me off-guard. A strange satisfaction sweeps over me. Appearing disinterested, I say “The gathering is Saturday instead of Friday this week.” “Yeah, it’s a waste of time.” “Ignis Impetus is the day after,” I say. “Well aware. That I actually look forward to,” he says and smiles. “I would, too,” I joke. Glancing in Roman’s direction, I pound my fist to my palm, grinning at my own joke. Apollo laughs… loud and perfect, again.