Unbreakable

by Will McIntosh

  Beaners glared at her. “They don’t want me, they want you—the pretty girl with the heart of gold, risking everything to save her dying mother. If I show up alone they’ll stick me right back in Circus Town and roll the cameras while the other clowns tear me to shreds.”

  “Then shut up!” Celia screamed. “Shut up about the chocolate. Stay. Go. Whatever. Just shut up.” She was arguing as if she had a plan, any plan, beyond doing exactly what Beaners and Anand were saying they should do. What was she doing down here? Maybe Beaners was right: she just needed a quiet place to work through her grief and accept defeat.

  Celia flinched as something brushed her shoulder blades.

  Anand had put his hand on her. He looked incredibly awkward, like some alien trying to emulate a human gesture, but he was touching her. “Whatever you want to do, I’m with you.” His voice was barely a whisper. “What now, Captain?”

  “I don’t know. Something.”

  Beaners groaned. “Something. Great plan.”

  Anand let his arm drop back to his side. Evidently eight seconds of physical contact was his limit. “We don’t have to decide now. We can surface a half mile from here, get some food from a vending machine with all of that change Beaners earned.” He looked at Beaners. “You still got all that change, Chuckles?”

  “I still got it.”

  “I spotted vending machines while we were driving. They won’t refuse us service, at least. We can lay low for a couple of days.”

  Beaners put his hands on his head, clutched two handfuls of orange corkscrew hair. “Are you out of your minds? We can be kings in that town. Their offer may not even be good tomorrow, if we don’t do what they said.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to take that chance,” Anand said.

  It felt like a piano being lifted from Celia’s chest. “Thanks, Anand.”

  They headed into the darkness of the pipe, feeling their way along, Beaners holding up the rear, grumbling and cursing under his breath. This was insane, but Celia smiled as she imagined how Lara and Max were reacting. This was definitely not part of the show.

  The pipe opened into a larger tunnel, but they were still in pitch darkness.

  “How far do you want to walk before we surface?” Anand asked.

  “The farther the better. We need to take some twists and turns so they can’t predict where we’re going to come up, and be waiting for us.”

  A high-pitched squeak echoed up ahead.

  “Oh God. Rats.” Beaners sounded horrified.

  This was the downside of being in a place where there were animals: rats the size of raccoons.

  Celia laughed out loud, suddenly realizing why they’d gone to so much trouble to keep animals out of Dominion. Having a waist-high seagull land beside her when she was about to break the sleep record would sure shatter the illusion.

  “What’s so freaking funny?” Beaners asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Hang on.” Anand had stopped. “Shout. Make noise. Try to sound large.”

  The three of them shouted down the tunnel, doing their best to sound imposing. When they finally grew quiet, the squeaking had stopped.

  “You think they would have come after us?” Celia asked.

  “Depends on how many there were, and how hungry they were. Probably not.”

  Celia wondered if Anand had firsthand experience with giant rats. She decided not to ask.

  The tunnel opened onto a wide, dimly-lit cavern. A murky waterway took up about half of it; the rest was scattered with trash. Here and there, wood and cardboard dwellings blended in with the refuse. At the closest encampment, embers from a dying fire glowed amidst folding chairs, pots and pans, a soiled mattress.

  Celia had watched part of a movie about a group of homeless people living in the tunnels under New York City. They’d formed their own city under the city, even electing a mayor. It was an old movie, of course. Evidently some things hadn’t changed.

  A woman’s laughter erupted from a few camps down. “You looking for the yellow brick road?” An old, filthy couple were sitting in lawn chairs, each clutching a plastic coffee cup the size of a pot in their giant hands.

  The old man squinted at Beaners. “You’re a clown.”

  “I’d noticed. But, thank you,” Beaners said.

  “So I take it you don’t recognize us?” Celia still had no idea how many people had been watching. If the network was in trouble, maybe not many, but Bage and all of her friends sure seemed to be watching. Although, for all she knew they were network employees. Celia had no idea how this worked, how real or staged it was.

  “Should we recognize you?” The woman leaned forward, squinting, her expression making it clear it was all a joke to her. She was wearing a yellow and orange house dress that looked like a nightgown, or vice-versa, and filthy sandals.

  Celia was tempted to hurry away from the couple. It was clear she couldn’t trust any humans. Then again, these two old people posed zero threat, with Anand and Beaners by her side.

  “Do you mind if we join you?”

  The woman gestured at an empty lawn chair. “By all means. We’re not proud.”

  Whatever that was supposed to mean. Anand insisted Celia take the chair, while he and Beaners squatted on the littered concrete. Celia introduced herself and her companions (the couple offered their names, Daniel and Kat, in return), then Celia told the couple who they were, and broadly sketched how they’d gotten to this place. As she spoke, the couple’s expressions shifted from bemused to grudgingly impressed.

  “So what would you do, if you were in our shoes?” Celia asked when she’d finished.

  “Probably try to get one of them bleeding hearts societies to help me,” Kat said.

  Celia frowned, completely lost “What’s a bleeding heart society?”

  Daniel laughed. “She means a civil rights group.” He was eighty, at least, his long greasy hair tied back with a length of electrical wire.

  “How would we find one?” Anand asked.

  “There are plenty of bleeding hearts in Dublin,” Kat said.

  “Can you help us? We don’t know anything here,” Celia said.

  Daniel scowled at her. “Why should we help you? We aren’t much better off than you are.” He looked around pointedly. “Don’t let our opulent abode fool you.”

  “We can pay you. Beaners has money.”

  “As usual, Beaners hasn’t been consulted.” He reflexively covered the pocket where he was keeping the money. “And if he was, he’d say we’re better off taking Dominion’s deal.”

  Daniel folded his arms and laughed. “The clown is the smartest of the three of you.”

  “And that surprises you why?” Beaners took a menacing step toward Daniel.

  Celia stuck out her arm to restrain Beaners. “You earned that money in ten minutes. Imagine what we can earn if we have protection from Dominion and we’re not on the run. Why should Dominion decide how much chocolate you get? One bar a day? How about fifty?”

  Beaners folded his arms, acting as if he was considering, but Celia knew she had him. His eyes were glazed over, imagining piles of chocolate bars.

  “Fifty bucks,” Kay said.

  “I don’t have fifty bucks,” Beaners said. “I have eighteen.”

  “Eighteen, then” Kay said. She looked at Daniel. “You think Maurio knows someone?”

  Daniel tilted his head. “He might.”

  “We’ll give you half now, half when we make the connection,” Celia said.

  Kay burst out laughing. “You’ve been watching too many movies. Wait, what’s my line?” She stretched her mouth into a cartoonish grimace. “Show me da money.” She pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed a flashlight lying beside the mattress. “Make yourselves comfortable, I may be gone a while.”

  Chapter 21

  Anand was standing at the edge of the waterway, staring down into the wastewater. He had that faraway just-ate-something-rotten look.

  Celia went over
and stood beside him. “Something about this place is pulling you into Slaughtertown isn’t it?”

  Anand nodded without looking at her. “We hid in a lot of caves.”

  She wasn’t sure if it would help Anand to talk about it, or make things worse. At least if he was talking about it with her, he’d know he was here, not back there.

  “I still remember my first day out of the childcare center, when I became an apprentice,” Celia said. “That first day must have been terrible for you. Did you know where you were going? Did they prepare you?”

  “They taught me how to fight, but they didn’t tell me why.” He turned away from the water. “The nannies walked me and five or six other kids, maybe thirteen, fourteen years old, into this forest and left us there. We were alone for about a day before these filthy people who barely spoke found us. They took us to a tunnel they’d dug, and we waited for the next wave of things to show up. We never knew what they’d be, but there was something new every seven days like clockwork. If you survived, you had to keep making new friends.”

  “And people watch that for fun. It’s hard to believe.”

  Celia spotted Kay farther down the waterway with a bearded guy in his thirties who walked with a limp and looked like he hadn’t bathed in a while. Kay pointed at the camp; the guy raised his head and picked up his pace.

  He put his hand out to shake when he was still a good ten steps away from Celia. “A real pleasure to meet you. I heard about you on the news.”

  “This is Maurio King,” Kay said.

  “Welcome to the real Dublin,” Maurio rushed around, shaking hands with everyone. “Kay told me you’re looking to get with a civil rights organization?”

  “That’s right,” Anand said.

  “I think I can hook you up. I know just about everyone. In the meantime, we can keep you safe.”

  After Beaners paid Kay, Maurio led them out of the underground, through trash-strewn tunnels, past nooks and crannies people had fashioned into living quarters. They squeezed through a breach in a chain link fence that opened onto a long tunnel. Celia didn’t realize it was a subway tunnel until Maurio’s flashlight lit a section of track.

  They came up onto a narrow street in the downtown area, surrounded by the tallest buildings in the city. A narrow slice of sky directly above them was all that was visible between the looming, brightly-colored towers. High up, most of the buildings were scattered with specks that Celia knew were people.

  “Keep your heads down until we get around this corner.” Maurio led them into a narrow alley lined with dumpsters and abandoned junk. “Give me any point in Dublin, and I can get there without passing a single surveillance camera.”

  “Police cameras?” Anand asked.

  “The police use them, but anyone can link into them for a fee.” They went under a bridge connecting two buildings. “The police mostly use butterfly cameras these days.”

  A guy passed by walking a miniature elephant, half the size of the ones Celia had seen in Circus Town.

  “I don’t get it,” Celia said, staring at the gum-stained pavement. “If they can make us out of synthetic DNA, why aren’t there creatures everywhere—digging ditches, cleaning the streets?”

  “I guess because robots are cheaper,” Maurio said. “You don’t have to feed them, and they don’t run away. Genetics are mostly good for medical research and computer software. Weird creatures are an offshoot. A novelty. Exotic pets, or creatures in specialty zoos. And you.” He raised a hand. “Here come our reinforcements.”

  Three people—an Asian woman and two kids—were heading toward them. Maurio hugged the woman as they converged. “This is my wife Brahma, our kids Amy and Earl.” The kids were shoeless, their hair cut raggedly short. They couldn’t take their eyes off Beaners.

  “If you’re waiting for me to make you balloon animals or pull a unicycle out of my ass, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  Both kids burst out laughing, like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

  “We saw you on TV,” the older one, Amy said. “You’re mean.” It was clear from the way she said it that this was about the best thing you could possibly be.

  “You watch TV?” Celia asked. None of them had handstraps.

  “At the public library,” Brahma explained.

  “Okay, enough celebrity worship. Let’s get them up and out of sight,” Maurio said.

  “Up?” Beaners asked.

  Maurio shielded his eyes with his hand, pointed up the side of the skyscraper to their left, at the squatters perched high above.

  Brahma knelt and snapped a strap attached to a scuffed and dented silver disk around Celia’s shoe.

  “You can’t be serious,” Beaners said.

  Celia stared up at the squatters, her heart racing. “Doesn’t it take practice to do that?”

  “Ideally,” Maurio said. He stepped to the wall, pressed the silver disk strapped to his wrist against the wall. “Once a grapple attaches, it won’t come loose until you twist it to the left.” He demonstrated. “Until you get comfortable, move one limb at a time and you’ll be fine. When you need to rest, attach all four and go ahead and rest.”

  They were each assigned a ‘buddy’. Maurio climbed with Celia, who absolutely did not want to climb the outside of this building. The first eight feet were okay, then it was too high.

  “The tallest building in my town is five stories,” Celia said as she climbed. “And that’s five stories proportional to my height.”

  “So, seventeen feet, give or take,” Maurio said, laughing. “You’ll be fine. See? You got it.”

  The wall of the building was divided into opaque rectangles, each about fifteen feet high. Which was actually five feet.

  “Did you know part of the reason they designed you to be small was to save money on construction? Takes a lot less material to build a wall ten feet high than thirty. And of course the labor is free, because you own the laborers.”

  “Plus, we eat less. And no medical expenses, because we’re disposable.”

  Maurio paused. “You don’t have anything on us there. So are we. So is everyone hanging on these buildings. I helped build some of these buildings, before I was replaced by a robot that didn’t have to eat or sleep.”

  Celia nodded understanding. She’d been uneasy about these people, why they were so readily helping three runts. Now she thought she understood.

  When they reached the fourth or fifth floor, the traffic sounds had become a soft white noise that merged into the whistling wind.

  “Once you get used to the height, this is the best place in the city. It’s peaceful, and you can’t beat the view.”

  “Except I’m never going to get used to the height.” Celia looked for Anand. He was down and to her right, gaining on her quickly. He looked uneasy, but excited. Beaners was to her left. He looked uneasy and pissed off. She made the mistake of looking up. The world spun, and up suddenly seemed like across, or down. She looked away, pressed her forehead to the glass, gasping.

  “Deep breaths,” Maurio said.

  The strangest thought struck Celia. She looked across at Maurio and studied his face. “We’re still on TV, aren’t we?”

  Maurio threw back his head and howled with laughter. He pressed his free hand to his stomach, looked at Celia and laughed harder.

  When he’d finally gotten control of himself, he called, “Brahm? Celia just asked me if this was still part of the show.”

  Brahma smiled. “I was wondering what was so hilarious over there.”

  Maurio reached over with his giant hand and gently patted Celia’s back. “I don’t blame you for being paranoid, sweetie. Dominion has really messed with your heads. But I promise you, there are no cameras up here.”

  Celia began to get the hang of the climbing gear, but her armpits were soaked with fear sweat, and she was vaguely nauseated. The view of the receding street between her feet was worse than any horror movie.

  “You’re doing great,” Maurio
said. “Don’t think, just climb.”

  Beaners was fifty feet or so above her. Anand was directly to her right, keeping pace.

  She kept climbing.

  “We’re going to have to move to the left now,” Maurio said when they were about halfway.

  “Why?”

  He pointed up. “The window cleaner is coming.”

  Celia risked a glance overhead; her heart immediately shifting into overdrive. A huge, flat machine with six legs was walking down the side of the building, right at them.

  “It does clean the building, but it’s really there to keep us from getting too comfortable. The outsides of buildings are technically public property, but you can’t build much of a camp if you have to move twice a day.”

  Celia moved left, as fast as she could manage.

  “There’s no hurry. We have a good ninety seconds to get clear.”

  “Maybe we should stop and have a picnic first.”

  #

  Celia’s limbs were trembling when they finally began to pass squatter camps. The camps consisted of one or more people attached to the wall with harnesses and the silver grapples, along with hammocks, duffels, and narrow platforms. Some people sat untethered, in portable seats that jutted from the wall, looking as relaxed as if they were sitting on their living room couch.

  When they finally reached Maurio and Brahma’s camp, it was a big one—at least a dozen people perched in seats. They applauded as Celia, Anand, and Beaners approached.

  “We’ve been watching you climb for the last two hours,” an old man with a mass of hair and beard that all merged together said.

  Maurio introduced everyone, and explained who Celia, Anand, and Beaners were. After that, the people in the little tribe peppered them with questions about their flight and experiences in the towns, while all but pushing food and drink on them. They won Beaners over early, when one of the kids gave him a candy bar. They were aware of Dominion, and its TV shows, but apparently none of them watched except the kids. It was strange—if Bage’s kind left Celia feeling old-fashioned, these people made her feel just the opposite. They didn’t even have phones.