by Imran Siddiq
“It doesn’t have to be that way. You can have five more months, and when you hit seventeen, you’re coming to the Far-Wall. No debate. Five months.” Marcus turned to the door. “See you later.”
What if there wasn’t a Far-Wall in five months?
Zachary returned to his bedroom.
Rosa would call soon, and he hoped that time would slow to let their conversation last. The urge to scavenge, the force that forever propelled him, felt distant. Studying the grime under his fingernails, images of Rosa’s disgust at holding his hand amused him.
Another concern dumbfounded him. He prodded the small pinholes along the edge of the device which indicated a method of charging, except he didn’t have the components. And there was no chance of forcing a wireless charge either. Once the Raptor’s battery ran out, that’d be it. Zachary kicked his bed. He couldn’t think of the last time that a scavenger had found an intact charger. But – parts – yes. There must have been traders with expert knowledge of building a charger. Wires. Chips. Connectors. It could be done. And if that didn’t work?
What about stealing one from IOTA? Zachary recoiled at his audacity.
Inserting his thumb, the Intercom reactivated. After placing it in a pocket, he took the boots off the table, and left his home. With the boots hanging from tied straps around his neck, Zachary climbed the external ladder. Mid-climb, he peered out to watch the dwellers of Shantytown shrink. The District resembled the mounds and tips of the Wastelands. There’s no way that Overworld could move them and all their stuff. It’d take forever. The streets would be blocked for days with everybody arguing.
Zachary slowed as he passed each home, intrigued by the missing sounds of generators chugging, or dwellers shuffling across creaky floors. Had they left last night?
Horatio lived alone in a square block not much bigger than a bedroom. Zachary knocked on the wooden-beamed door, expecting the old man to yell to be left alone. The door opened.
Flies buzzed in the middle of the room containing a stove, a wardrobe and rolled carpets. Leaving the door open for some light, Zachary swiped at the flies. He observed blankets and pillows missing from the bed. The wardrobe was empty of clothes, and the drawers of cutlery. Placing the boots on the table, he eyed the corners of the room, expecting the old man to surprise him.
Had Horatio left in a hurry? For fear? Worry? Self-preservation? If the paper drops were to be believed, even a madman wouldn’t have scarpered without bartering his goods first.
Zachary’s jean pocket vibrated. Sucking air, he rushed out of the block, then darted left to cower by the rear wall where no one was close enough to spy on him. Rosa’s image rebounded off the wall, almost spreading onto him. Strands of hair hung over her right eye. He could make out the dimples on either side of her smile.
“Hey. Are you in a hole? You look all cooped up,” said Rosa.
“I’m not in the Wastelands, I’m … it doesn’t matter. You’ve called early.”
Long eyelashes batted. “Do you want me to go?”
“No. Stay.”
Her smile didn’t slump. There was something different about her appearance. A shadow-like shade covered her eyelids. “It’s confirmed. We’ll be returning to Assayer within a week. Mother’s already scouting apartments that we can choose from.”
So soon? Against other Overworlders, and other boys, Zachary wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Father’s been granted his ambassador status again.” Rosa scrunched her mouth. “I can’t keep complaining about it not being the way that I wanted, but at least it’s happening. I’ve always wanted to go shopping properly. Do you know how difficult it is to get the right size when ordering online?”
Zachary fought the headshake his mind demanded he do. What did she mean by ordering online? Did a trader bring the goods along a line?
Rosa tapped her shiny lips. “Do you have clothes stores down there?”
“We find and trade what we can. These are my dad’s clothes, before he grew.”
“That’s cute,” she said. “So, anything exciting happen in your world?”
The warnings from the sheets.
“Nothing,” replied Zachary.
“O-kay,” slurred Rosa. “Well, I have some exciting news. Father will be on the channel this morning. He’s been invited by the House of Representatives to make the whole ambassador thing official.” Her words drifted through him. “I just hope he knows what he’s doing. I don’t want him and Mother to forget all about me once we’re in the big city.”
Rosa cleared her throat before speaking in a deeper tone. “Good evening Mister and Missus Kade, welcome to the banquet held in honour of your family. And who is the young lady with you? Oh dear, you’ve forgotten who she is. Not to worry, we’ll have her escorted out. Go on. Shoo.”
Zachary sighed. “You’ll make lots of new friends wherever you move to. Lots of people who’ll share all the things that you missed out on. You wouldn’t want your friends to know that you were talking to me.” He gulped. “An Underworlder.”
“Hold on,” she said.
The image of Rosa’s face zoomed out, showing shelves aligned with precision behind the curved headboard of her bed. Ahead, dressed in a frilly-shouldered blouse with clips running down the centre, Rosa sat upright. “I didn’t go to all this trouble for just anybody. Are you forgetting that you’re my friend?”
Zachary teased words from the corner of his mouth. “No, it’s just that –”
“I know what you’re thinking. Who knows what will happen when I become the centre of attention in the City. I might just be reduced to standing in the corner whilst people in luxurious dresses and suits mingle around fountains of wine.”
She zoomed the Intercom back to her head. “I’m lucky to have met someone as honest as you, and I swear that I will do my damnedest to keep you close.”
But we’re not close, thought Zachary.
“Can I ask you something?” queried Rosa.
He stroked the image where her neck curved toward her shoulder. “Sure.”
“Do I still annoy you?”
Thinking about his reply, he held her stare. “A little before. Yesterday, not at all, and today, I don’t think you could say anything that’d annoy me.”
“A challenge I gladly accept.” Rosa grinned, narrowing her eyes. “I’m pleased that we met, even if it was after my home was nearly wiped off the Base.”
The Raptor beeped an image of an emptied capsule.
“The battery,” whined Zachary. “How do I charge this?”
“Can you get hold of a 6-pin adaptor?”
“Down here? No. Intercoms are rare.” He rolled his eyes. What if the Intercom died before they arranged their method of maintaining contact?
“I’ll get one sent to you.” She grunted, baring her teeth. “Stupid me, they don’t deliver down there. The drops from your ceiling. I’ll put it in a secure box with a hardcore code. All you have to do is find it.”
“We have drops everywhere. I’d never find it.”
“This is not fair!”
“Who are you talking to?” said a cold-toned female voice.
Rosa’s hand enlarged throughout the image. “Nobody – I’m recording a diary entry. Please, Mother, this is private.”
The woman’s voice trailed behind Rosa. “Turn that off and come to the lounge. Your father will be on soon, and I need help with the recorder. Wires and connections, I don’t know. It’d be a lot easier with a simple record button.”
“Got to go – I’m sorry. Don’t turn it off. I’ll call you as soon as my father’s done.” It looked like something else begged to escape Rosa’s mouth. “Bye.”
The Intercom silenced.
Zachary grabbed his forehead, muttering his last thought. “I like you, Rosa.”
Staying pressed against the wall, he imagined Rosa sitting with him, looking out over Shantytown. She’d breathe through a torn segment of cloth wrapped around her mouth with hands clasping her nostrils shut.
He couldn’t laugh. She’d hate it down here. She’d never want to visit Underworld. He needed another way to get to meet her.
Diego!
The recruit would be returning to his home in District Four, and then onto Five. Could Diego’s family help to barter Zachary’s way up the Districts? He cupped the Raptor against his cheek. Doubt pounded his heart.
His eyes thrust open at the Intercom’s vibration.
Eyes watering, Rosa held her blubbering mouth. “I’m sorry.” She knocked her head back. “I’m so sorry for what they’re doing.”
The Intercom bounced as she crashed forward covering her head. “Father can’t be doing this. This is not right! THIS IS NOT RIGHT!”
Scraping her hands through her hair, Rosa bit her wobbling lip. “The House of Representatives voted to revoke Article 39a. General Sokolov, my father’s stupid loyal friend,” she rasped. “They’re going to change Galilei forever. They’re going to restart the exploration of Europa.”
Chills paralysed Zachary’s gums. “Why?”
“Because that’s why we’re here. Galilei was meant to be the landing module on the moon. They never succeeded. Never. But, now,” her voice faltered, “the General wants to make it happen, and my father, my so-called-ambassador-for-the-people father is helping to make it happen.”
Zachary felt a spasm ripple along his shoulder muscles. “But, this is good, right? If they land, we won’t have to live in a ship in space.”
“There’s more. Sokolov announced the Relocation Programme of Underworld. They’re planning to take back Districts One to Four.”
The tense push rocketed through Zachary’s spine. He sunk with his legs sliding under him. The sheets of paper. The warnings. They weren’t a trick.
Zachary swallowed. He had to tell everybody. He had to tell his dad. “When?”
“In five days.”
“Five! That’s too quick. We have to move our things across the Districts. It’s not that easy. This isn’t happening. You’ve got it wrong. Are you sure?”
Rosa’s fingertips enlarged around the edge of the image. “Why would I lie about this? Zach, I’m scared about what they’ll do. The General’s not a nice man. He always gets his way.” Her fingers fiddled over her Intercom. “I switched the recorders over when mother answered an incoming call. Hit ‘accept’.”
The word appeared in an orange box above the Raptor. Zachary tapped it.
A short-haired woman sitting on the far side of a semi-circular table appeared over Rosa’s image. “Is General Sokolov’s claim of protecting the diminishing resources a cover-up for rejection from the Integrated Confederation? Are we on borrowed time? Is Galilei due a recall? What next? Doctor Harley, your view?”
The image slid to show a dark-skinned man scraping a finger across his lips. “Masim Sokolov is doing what he must to protect the lives we lead. We pay taxes and we contribute to the continued upkeep of this amazing Base. Underworld takes up valuable space that, if primed correctly, could be the turning point for a new age for Galilei. We are stretched, and it’s been a long time coming.”
The woman reappeared. “Sorry to interrupt you, Doctor, but the outline processes for the Relocation Programme have just been released. In brief, plans have been made to negotiate the peaceful movement of Underworlders from the Districts. And, according to this,” she sat upright, “negotiations started four days ago and are due to conclude shortly with all indications pointing to a peaceful resolution.”
The image fizzed back to Rosa holding her face. “Do you believe me now?”
Zachary shook his head. “There aren’t any negotiations.”
“But they said –”
“There aren’t.” He smacked the wall. “Your recordings are lies.”
“They’re news reporters, why would they lie?”
“I don’t know?” He rose, jerking his head left to right.
“Zach, you have to get out of there.” The image spluttered.
“Nobody will believe me. They’ll call me mad. Maybe if I replay the recordings?” His temples pulsed. “Then I have to explain this Intercom.”
“Can you hear me?” Rosa’s face split in two between jagged lines. “Zach?”
“You’re breaking up.” He shook the Intercom.
“I can’t hear … have to get out … talk to Father … change his mind.” The Intercom fuzzed with her image frozen.
“Rosa?” Zachary pressed the Raptor against his chest.
The capsule showed “3%”. It wasn’t empty. Why the malfunction? Was this due to another shortage? Did Overworlders know that she was talking to him? Why wouldn’t they? Heck – they controlled the oxygen, the outpour of waste, the drops, and the blasted sheets of paper warning them to leave. He looked onto the unaware residents who moved bug-like in Shantytown. They had to be warned.
A hard object smacked Zachary’s back, knocking him down. His arm crashed through the roof of the home below. Twisting, sinking further through the hole, he saw a figure clamber off the roof.
“Working things like these aren’t for little boys,” sneered Horatio, lifting the Raptor several feet from Zachary’s grasp.
Horatio stamped down, shattering the floorboards, and sending Zachary into the flat below. The table he landed on, rigid as it was, broke his fall. Rolling off, he heard the scuttling racket of Horatio speeding down the ladder. Zachary wobbled out of the doorway.
He glared down onto the thief. “Give it back!”
Boots snapped to either side of the ladder’s frame, Zachary slid downward. Horatio burst west out of Shantytown to the steep cliff that overlooked the Wastelands. With his grey locks hanging in the air and arms spread, the old thief jumped off the cliff.
Zachary skidded to a halt. Moaning, and looking like a fur-matted dog, Horatio crawled, clutching his stomach with a small object fizzling behind him.
Digging his nails into the cliff-face, almost drawing blood, Zachary lowered himself. He hurtled towards the Intercom. It lay within a boot print. Its upper screen was smashed and the rear battery compartment hung by thin strands.
Nothing happened when his thumb pressed the recognition pad.
The Raptor was broken.
Chapter 12 - Disorder
None of the increased pressure Zachary put on the pad helped. Loose fragments vibrated every time he pressed it. He kneeled down, pulling out copper strands embedded in the ground. Did they all belong to the Raptor? Unsure, he took what he could, or what made sense to. All the time, anger frothed in his mouth.
Three thin cogs slipped out from under the screen; one careered into a swamp and sank. The other two, he caught. Black liquid trickled from out of the battery compartment onto his palm.
A tinny noise sounded from the Raptor. Hoping, he held it up. The Intercom sparkled golden shards over his cheek. Eyes blinking, he brushed them away. Clasped too tight in has hand, the raptor snapped. Zachary’s arm plummeted to his kneecaps. He shoved every manageable part into his pocket.
Horatio continued his pathetic run.
“Why did you do this?” shouted Zachary.
“Leave me alone,” shrieked the thief. “You’ve got it. Go away.”
“Leave you?” Zachary yanked his boot free out of a pit, and charged forward. Hurdling off a mound, he lunged and hauled the thief down.
Blood leaked from Horatio’s mouth. Hands up, he pleaded, “I’m sorry, boy, I’m sorry. I needed the money.”
Zachary showed the spread of black fluid on his palm. “I needed that to talk to her. It was my Raptor. She gave it to me. You had no right to take it. That’s not how we take things. That’s not how we scavenge. We don’t steal.” He snatched Horatio’s collar. “You heard her. You must have heard her. She’s worried. She was trying to help me. To help all of us. Do you understand what you’ve done?”
Horatio’s eyes showed the shame of a man lost for words.
“It’s broken. What will I do now?” cried Zachary.
Horatio lowered his arms, and turned
his face as if he expected a hard boot to crack his jaw. Eyes closed, he inhaled.
Zachary stepped away from him.
Unlike the raging anger filling his muscles, sympathy sifted into his thoughts. He saw a man who’d taken notice of the warning sheets. A man who was prepared to make the journey across the Districts with whatever he could carry. At a time of desperation, Horatio had seen an object worth enough to aid a new life someplace else.
Zachary pressed the tight ache above his heart. Everything felt empty inside. “Get out of here.”
The slope swallowed Zachary’s legs several times as he climbed the cliff. Once over the jagged edge, he headed to Shantytown, all the time caressing the pocket containing the Raptor.
A deep, bellowing horn reverberated in the direction of the Far-Wall. That was new, and unexpected. For several seconds it seemed to change direction as if sweeping along the end point of District Two. Residents began to assemble around the northern side of the town. Zachary eyed the ground vents that were usually misty, and then looked upward, noticing that the giant ceiling fans had stopped. Something was wrong.
A man leaned out of his doorway three storeys up, and clanged a pan against a standing pole. “I can’t believe it. They’ve done it! The Far-Wallers have done it!”
“They broke through?” came a voice within the crowd.
“Aye! The highest crack in the Far-Wall that I’ve ever seen,” laughed the man. “There’ll be fresh air coming our way, and you know what else? I bet they’ll find new lines of electricity.” He folded his arms, holding his chin aloft. “Don’t know about you, but I’m not planning on leaving now.”
“I’m with you,” said another voice.
Chugging wind resonated from the Far-Wall.
Zachary squeezed through the crowd, knowing that the blockages his dad worked on shouldn’t have affected the fans above them. If anything, the fans should be turning faster.
Mechanical gears clicked through the loudening chugs. Then, a long drawn screech made him and others cover their ears. A thin line of light split the wall from top to bottom. More clicking and the obvious turning of a cog hitting hard components echoed through the District. The split line widened.