Worlds Between

by Heather Lee Dyer

  The larger shape walks toward our line of ragged prisoners and stops just a few feet away. Up close I can almost make out the rough form of a square jawline, and broad shoulders—but the projection seems to warp before my eyes, as if it’s resisting my efforts to study it. I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stiffen, but I’m not sure if it’s the electric buzz in the air or my own nerves. Could this be one of the elusive Kreons? Or was this projection just a human facsimile, an illusion for our benefit?

  The sentinels bow, and one of them steps forward to great the newcomers.

  “Another batch of uncooperative humans, Your Majesty.”

  My eyes widen at the title. I’ve heard to the invaders being referred to us the Kreon Kingdom, but I never considered that they might have actually royalty. But why would a king bother with a group of human rejects on their way to the mines?

  I hear footsteps pounding pavement, and movement grabs my attention. The young boy with dark hair is sprinting towards the river, and he’s already got a head start. One of the mech guards takes off after him. I’ve seen them move before, but not like this. The large robotic bodies make them appear sluggish and solid, but this one takes a handful of quick steps before leaping into the air and covering nearly a dozen yards at once. It bounces, once, twice, quickly overtaking the boy and blasting him with an electric taser. His body is still convulsing when the mech drags him back by one heel and dumps him in front of the king.

  He rocks onto this hands and knees, before emptying his stomach on the ground. The king reaches down and grabs his chin. Even though the projection seems ghostly and translucent, the boy is lifted into the air until his feet dangle. He chokes, grasping at his throat, as the king squeezes his neck.

  “Couldn’t even make it past yellow level?” The voice is deep, and rumbles through my whole body like an electric current. “After all that we’ve given you? Clean food and water? Education. And this is how you repay us?” The blue outline leans toward the yellow boy, wisps of energy curling like smoke away from the edges. I turn my head slightly so I can see the boy’s face. Although shaking, he struggles against his captor bravely. I want to shout out to him to stop resisting. He’s going to get himself killed.

  I gasp as he spits at the humanoid form. The liquid sizzles off the blue energy wall. I freeze and I hear the others around me suck in surprised breaths.

  “Just kill him, Darling.” The second figure steps forward. This one is shorter, and from the voice I would guess it’s female. She sounds bored, and I instantly dislike her.

  “You’ve given him every opportunity. And I hate being down with the surface dwellers.”

  “He’s young,” the king replied. “He may still learn compliance, after a few years in the mines to break his spirit. And we’re not here for him.”

  He moves closer, in energy form, passing up the others until he’s almost right in front of me. I hold my breath as he turns towards the older man to my left. The dark-skinned blue. I glance to the side, studying his profile, and notice a puckered scar on his neck and black stubble on his proud chin.

  “This is what I brought you down here for,” the king nods, inclining his head. “The human rebellion was destroyed decades ago, and still this man resists. But he’s crafty. He learned our customs, our laws, and he pretended to become a model citizen, a reformed human. He even wears our marks. In every respect, a successful reeducation. And yet, he was caught inside the compound with a loaded weapon. No doubt hoping one of his Kreon masters would bestow upon him a personal visitation, in the flesh. This is why we must be vigilant, against human duplicity and thirst for violence. They can never be trusted.”

  “Tell me,” the king says quietly, leaning forward until he’s just inches away from the man. “If you had your weapon now, would you use it against me?”

  “Without hesitation,” the man says calmly.

  “And so you see, even after investing years in his reeducation, giving him responsibility and a place of honor in our new community, he remains disloyal in his heart. Humans like this are beyond salvation. They must be destroyed.”

  I watch horrified, unable to look away, as the Kreon stretches a long finger through the wall and touches the man in the chest. There’s a spark of red light, that courses from the man’s heart through all the blood vessels in his body. His skin is glowing, and the light spreads like crimson worms under his skin. Then he bursts into a cloud of thick black ash.

  The rest of us duck at the noise, and I cover my nose and mouth with my sleeve as thick chunks of the rebel float past us on the wind, but it’s too late—I can feel the heavy flakes stick to the back of my throat like tar.

  “Anyone else want to defy me?” The king walks in front of each of the others in line, stopping in front of me. My knees tremble as I gasp for oxygen, trying to breathe through the yellow fabric. I concentrate on the alien ship in the background, counting the softly glowing lights. One, Two, Three… The world spins and my vision is blurry, but movement makes me lift my head. Until now, the third figure has been standing several yards off to the side, leaning against the ship. It looks like he’s got his arms crossed, almost sullenly, but he leans forward and I can almost feel him looking in my direction, even though I still can’t see any details through the energy haze.

  The king glances over at the guard to my left.

  “You’re taking this girl into the mines? In my experience, the females of the species are easier to domesticate.”

  “Not this one, your highness,” the mech guard answers. “She tried to escape the compound. Also, she attacked one of the human conscripts. With some kind of homemade taser.”

  I hold my breath.

  “So she’s clever, and good with her hands,” the woman says. Each word is sharp like a sword. “Wouldn’t she be better off in one of the lower noble’s homes, or even in a repair unit?”

  I cringe at her voice. The king looks over at the guard.

  “She is too dangerous to be entrusted to even that honor. And she did not complete her reeducation process.”

  The king leans in toward me. My pulse is racing so hard I feel faint. I watch his hands, waiting for his decision.

  “We need all the human workers we can get in the mines right now, Father.” The smaller Kreon figure has stepped up next to the king. His voice is warmer, and smooth. Almost human. If he was the king’s son, did that make him a prince?

  “Until we retrieve the artifact, we have no use of more house slaves.”

  “But a female?” The king spits out.

  “She wouldn’t be the first we’ve sent to the mines. And our resources are already thin. If we don’t recover the Vajra, we’ll need to cease our expansion and solidify our position.”

  “You worry too much,” the woman laughs. “Of course we’ll find it. We already know from our sensors that it’s on this planet, and according to our readings, it’s within reach.”

  “Guards, take the rest of the prisoners to the mines. My son is right, the sooner we find the artifact, the better. I’ll leave it up to you to choose servants for the lower royal households. They’ll be arriving next week. But make sure they’re thoroughly vetted.”

  “Can we go now?” The woman asks. “I hate it down here. It’s so untamed.”

  The energy form seems to shiver.

  “Yes, your highness.”

  The king’s image turns around and walks away, back toward the ship. The woman, which I assume is the queen, follows quickly after. I can still hear her high-pitched voice, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. They disappear into the light.

  My gaze falls upon the remaining Kreon form, the prince, who is staring right at me, almost like he’s waiting for something. Confused, I look to my right and see the other prisoners are several yards away, following the sentinels away from the van.

  I frown but hurry after them. When I glance back over my shoulder, the figure still hasn’t moved. The fuzzy energy projection
and the fact that I can’t make out his features, makes it hard to tell if he’s really staring at me, or just watching to make sure none of the other prisoners try to escape.

  “Girl, get moving.” One of the mech guards yells in my direction. I narrow my eyes, but drag my gaze away from my stalker and catch up to the other prisoners as we’re led towards another vehicle. We pile in the back and hear the engine fire up. A queasy feeling in my gut tells me we’re in an anti-grav vehicle this time. I scoot toward the window and watch in fascination as the vehicle rises from the ground in a cloud of dust.

  Back where we left the transport van, the energy wall and projected images have disappeared. Only the large ship remains, its lights blinking on one by one. Then it rises straight up and out of sight before I can even twist around to the other window.

  I sink back into the seat as we skim over the desolate ground. I close my eyes and curl my knees up against my chest. With the immediate danger over with, the reminder of exactly where I’m going hits me. I bury my face into my knees to hide the tears threatening to fall. I fight them back, angry at myself for being too weak to save Jamie. Too weak to protect myself from a lifetime of imprisonment. Nobody left the mines.

  Images of the man flashing into nothingness and Jamie’s face watching calmly as I’m being dragged away, repeat in my mind over and over again. I pound my fists against my thighs, counting each slow breath compulsively, but I keep my eyes open for the rest of the trip. I’m on my own now, for the first time in my life. I need to survive.

  Even though Jamie was responsible for me being sent away, he’s still my brother. It’s my responsibility to protect him, which means, somehow, I have to find a way to escape, so I can save him from the compound. Even if he betrayed me. Even if it takes years and I have to dig my way out with a spoon. Save Jamie, I promise myself, or die trying.

  ELEVEN

  THE VEHICLE STOPS AND HOVERS for a moment before I feel us drop straight down. My stomach threatens to heave its contents as we descend quickly, so fast I feel weightless. The only thing visible out the small windows now is a wall of endless dirt.

  I can tell when we’re near the bottom of the hole as my stomach no longer feels full of butterflies. Instead, it’s replaced by a heavy calm that’s even worse than the anxiety. Resignation. It tastes like death. As the car settles in a cloud of dust, I realize this will be my new home. Underground.

  Everyone remains still and quiet. The remaining boy in a yellow uniform has tears streaking down his dirty face. The fierce one with shaggy hair is wearing a deep scowl. The other men look fearful as we wait to see what happens next. I’m too exhausted to react, and my emotions have been stretched too much already.

  The guards throw the doors open and yell in their mechanical voices, “Get out.” I crawl forward on my hands and knees, and stand up outside the van. The loose dirt crunches under my feet, swirling clouds of dust around our ankles. A couple of the other prisoners start coughing.

  “Get in line and stand still. The dirt will settle,” one of the mech guards orders. He’s not trying to help us, just stating a fact. I grit my teeth and breathe carefully through my nose.

  Once we’re lined up, the guards point us toward a tunnel entrance. Two more mech guards are waiting to receive us, but these look different than the others. I’ve never seen this type before. Thinner bodies, with bulbous heads and large eyes on each side.

  They’re smaller and still humanoid in shape, but covered with a smooth, thin shield of armor. It’s still the blue-hued Kreon metal, but it looks seamless. I’m betting these are designed specifically for the mines. The solid armor probably keeps the dirt out of their mechanical parts.

  I stick to the back of the line, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. If it’s not common for women to be down here, I need to be on the alert. If I thought the traders above were uncivilized, I can’t imagine how rough this group of rejects and convicts will be.

  I cast a last glance up at our entrance point. The tunnel the anti-grav car came down is barely wide enough for the vehicle itself, and stretches up for hundreds of feet. If this is the only way in or out of the mines, without wings I have no chance of ever escaping.

  The guard behind me pushes me forward and I snap my attention back down. The blocky sentinels that escorted us here don’t follow us into the tunnel. They remain behind, silent like statues.

  We shuffle in line through what feels like miles of underground passageways. Along the rounded ceiling of the tunnels runs a yellowish glowing strip light. Other than that bit of tech there’s only dirt walls to look at. I start to feel claustrophobic.

  I concentrate on the shirt of the man in front of me, with glances back at the one guard that follows behind me. He doesn’t seem to have any problems walking on the uneven dirt, whereas I’ve tripped a few times already, catching myself on the hard dirt walls.

  Finally, I see a light ahead of us, past the exhausted prisoners. I sigh to myself as we near what looks like a large open area. As each one of us steps into the cavern we squint in the sudden brightness. Then I gasp, as my vision clears and I realize what I’m looking at.

  The mine is nothing like I expect. It unfolds like a maze, deeper and deeper under the earth—less a hole in the ground and more like a subterranean city. The central stretch of earth at the center is full of enormous, insect-like mining drones with sharp appendages. Thousands of humans are carrying debris or pulling ropes, beneath massive hanging chains. The ceiling, hundreds of feet above, is hewn into a rough dome, with regularly spaced, perfectly round apertures to let in soft, golden spotlights. In the center is a rectangular building cut in sleek, perfect lines. It’s surrounded by tents holding supplies and what I assume is a large charging station for the mechs. It looks like a futuristic boat filled with dozens of seats.

  My pulse spikes as we approach a long rock bridge that spans a chasm so black and deep I can’t see the bottom. Torches light the stairways and bridges that crisscross down into its depth. Far across the central hall, which seems big enough to fit my entire valley, I can see rectangular slits in the rock, framed by marble columns and capped with triangular pediments. I glance behind me to see that we’ve emerged from an identical entrance. This close, the doorway yawns above me, the columns bigger than old growth trees. Veins of copper and silver gleam from the dark stone.

  Across the bridge, we enter a narrow alley crammed with tables and tents that reminds me of the market. Each table has different objects on them, and the mech guards are inspecting them. They hold up pieces that look like old human relics and scan them with hand-held devices: goblets, broken plates, decorative vases, and other junk I can’t recognize from this distance. Most of it gets tossed in a metal bin that’s already half full of crap. Not what they’re looking for.

  It stretches on and on, blocking out the view, and soon I have no sense of direction. I glance frantically back towards the perimeter but all the bridges and gateways look exactly the same. A guard nudges my shoulder and I turn to face forward just as the man in front of me slows to a stop.

  On the side closest to us is another table with a large Kreon-made machine on it. A quick glance makes me shiver. It’s a subdermal tagging machine. I saw a trader with one once. I have no idea where he found it, but his was broken and he was just trying to sell it for scrap. I absently twist the bracelet around my wrist. In addition to this and the compound tattoo, I’ve already been marked several times by my enemies. It wasn’t enough to tag me or mark me, now they’re going to implant something under my skin as well.

  One of the guards snaps his arm out and what looks like a pair of large scissors ratchets out of the end of his mechanical arm. The first man in line startles but the guard grabs him with his other arm and uses the large utility scissors to cut clean through the man’s metal bracelet. The man shakes as he looks down at his trembling arm, probably making sure he still had all his fingers.

  “You are no longer citizens of the world a
bove. Now you are slaves of the mines.” He nods to the next guard who grabs the man’s hand and shoves it into the machine. The man cries out. The guard effortlessly holds his arm still as the machine lights up, making a whirring noise, followed by a soft pop.

  When the guard lets go, the man pulls his arm out and cradles it. On his wrist is now a tattoo in the shape of the Kreon royal logo, marking the location of the subdermal implant. It’s the familiar open black circle with the solid blue circle inside. My father told me once that the open circle represents the range of galaxies the Kreons have conquered, and the blue dot represents their home world, though there was no way he could actually know that. He was probably just making it up.

  The guards prod the prisoner until he moves out of line and up against the wall behind us. The skin where the implant was inserted is bright red.

  The guards force each of us through the line.

  When it comes to my turn I’ve seen how it works and what to expect. I look around and know there’s no escape. My heart races and my palms get clammy. Although I know my bracelet is a fake, the idea of them severing my tie to the world above terrifies me. It feels more final than the compound tattoo, which is at least a symbol of belonging. Lila Larsen was probably already dead, but now it feels like she’s being exorcised for good. I wonder if there will be anyone left to remember her name… or mine. What have I done?

  ***

  The cutting of the bracelet is quick and painless. They toss the bracelet in a large stack of scrap metal. I don’t fight them as they place my arm into the tagging machine. I wince when I feel the implant being shoved under my skin, but I bite the inside of my cheek to keep an even face. I’ve done enough crying and panicking. Now is the time to keep myself together.