Forgotten City

by Michael Ford

  “Hey! Back off!” said the tall boy, holding out his arms. “Give the guy some space!” The bug-eyed boy approached, inspecting Kobi.

  Through the viewing panels Kobi saw Melanie Garcia watching. She gave him a sympathetic smile, then left. That left only one Guardian, dressed in a lab coat and scribbling notes like he was documenting the meeting between the kids.

  “Leon, he doesn’t look like he’s got a specialty,” the bug-eyed boy said. “He’s definitely not a blend.” The boy’s yellow eyes seemed to stare through Kobi, moving up and down. “And you know the weird thing? I can’t see any Waste inside him. Maybe he’s not one of us.”

  “He is,” said Asha, moving forward, watching for Kobi’s reaction. Kobi didn’t say anything.

  The tall rock climber kid who must be Leon walked over. “Pleased to meet you anyway, Kobi,” he said, and held out his hand. Kobi looked at it.

  “He doesn’t know you want to shake his hand!” said the girl with bulbous fingers, laughing. She leaped onto the glass screen and gripped hold with her fingers, splaying her body across the vertical wall like a gecko. Kobi gasped with astonishment.

  “Stop it, Yaeko,” said the bark-skinned girl. “Leon, don’t . . .”

  The gecko girl rolled her eyes and spoke wordlessly, bobbing her head, mimicking the other girl.

  “What?” said Leon. “I’m just introducing myself, Jo. Come on, Kobi, just shake. That’s what people do when they meet.” Kobi found himself looking toward Asha, who nodded. Kobi took the other boy’s hand and shook it slowly. It felt more than odd. Leon grinned at him, then Kobi felt his hand shudder violently. Suddenly his whole arm was vibrating. Kobi tried to pull away, but the boy gripped him tight.

  “Hey!” Kobi tried to say, but his voice warbled. Everyone laughed. The boy let him go.

  Asha said. “Leon’s got fast-twitch muscles. Only they can keep on twitching in bursts like that.”

  Leon flexed his biceps. “Makes me really strong. Right, Rohan? They call me the Earthquake! Like the Flash mixed with the Thing but better! You like movies?”

  “Shut up,” said the yellow-eyed boy, shoving Leon jokingly. He turned to Kobi. “No one calls him the Earthquake. And, Leon, superhero movies suck.”

  Leon shrugged. “They’re pretty much all we got.” He grinned at Kobi. “I guess the Guardians think it’s aspirational for us!”

  “Leon’s into Hollywood,” said the girl with barklike skin. “He thinks he’s an actor. You know what Hollywood was right?”

  “Yeah,” mumbled Kobi. “Me and . . . We had an old TV and hard drive at the school that we had working for a while.”

  “He’s read books and seen movies,” said Asha. “He’s not a caveman.”

  “Caveman!” said Leon. “I like that. That can be your superhero name.”

  “He looks a bit tame to be a Caveman to me,” said Yaeko. She was hanging from the ceiling now, her face upside down. “Cool, huh?” she said as Kobi stared.

  Kobi was glad when Asha ushered him toward a sofa, where he took a seat. He felt totally overwhelmed.

  “This must be weird for you, huh?” said Rohan as the other kids crowded around, sitting on other chairs and sofas, on beanbags, or lounging on the floor.

  Yaeko was still hanging from the ceiling. “So, how’d you get here anyway?”

  “It’s kind of a long story,” said Kobi.

  Leon grinned and gestured to the room. “We’re not going anywhere. You know about the whole apocalypse thing, right?”

  Kobi talked. Mostly, they let him, and the only person who didn’t look rapt was Asha, but then she’d heard most of it before at the school. He sensed she wasn’t so much listening to his words as watching him, reading the way he told his tale for the second time.

  The interruptions he did get, every so often, were silly little things. About his lessons with his dad, about how they washed, and what the school looked like. When he talked about going outside, he saw only speechless faces. They can’t even imagine it, he thought, and part of him felt almost guilty, as if he was boasting somehow for letting them know he’d entered a world they never could. As Kobi described his old life, he felt a pang of yearning, but it already seemed a million miles away.

  And as he finished his story, the other kids told him theirs. It was the same tale for each—Healhome had been their home as long as any could remember. Not even Healhome—this very floor. Leon explained that the internal doors led to other rooms. He gave Kobi a tour. He showed him the tables and chairs in the canteen, served by a hatch in the wall, then the rows of doors to the individual dormitories and the washing facilities. There was a game room and a small gym, with weights, bikes, and treadmills. The biggest room was a huge hall with equipment inside that Leon called the training room. He seemed proud as he showed off the scope of their living space, but Kobi felt only a creeping sense of dread. This is it? Their world was safe, and clean, but it was tiny. He smiled and said nice things, all the time wondering how he was going to live here for the foreseeable future. Bill Gates was small, but at least he had the freedom to move around the classrooms. . . .

  After a few hours, they sat down to eat in the canteen. Among all the deception, Asha had been telling the truth about one thing: the food. It was as bland as she’d said—cubes of slightly wobbly, squeaky stuff in a sauce that tasted artificially sweet. Rohan explained that the Guardians were hypervigilant about growing anything organic in case of infection, so all food was synthesized.

  “It’s safer,” he said.

  “It’s disgusting,” Kobi replied, smiling. Still, he was hungry enough to eat it all.

  As they ate the dinner, he tried to remember all the kids’ names. There was Johanna, Leon, Rohan, Yaeko. Reeta was the girl with red hair, he thought, but the others he found difficult to keep in his head. There was, maybe, a Heather, Sanjay, Paolo, and several others he went blank on. Did kids at school used to remember the names of everyone in their class?

  After dinner, they went to the game room, which was spacious—about double the size of the lunch hall at Bill Gates. There were sofas and beanbags, a pool table and dart board, packs of playing cards of the kind he used to play with Dr. Hales, a selection of books a lot smaller than the school library’s, and various board games. Some of the kids showed him gaming consoles, putting over their eyes goggles they called VR. Kobi tried the goggles on and jumped with fright when he found himself in a virtual world of a lava cave with some kind of giant dinosaur throwing shells at him. Jo said they had lessons with the Guardians every day, just like a normal school, though how she could know anything about what normal meant, Kobi didn’t know.

  They showed Kobi how to play a card game called last man standing, and he even won a few rounds. He pretended to be enjoying himself, but after a while he became bored. He felt annoyed at himself for feeling that way. I’m safe. I have friends. I should be happy. But the thought seemed ridiculous.

  Leon hissed at Kobi. “Hey, dude, come in here.” While the others continued with the card game, Kobi went with Asha, Rohan, and Leon into the training room. Kobi looked around it properly. It was like a gym mixed with a martial arts room mixed with a tech lab. Mats lay on the floor, a climbing wall reached one hundred feet up, and gymnastic equipment lay around the room, but there were also lots of scientific instruments and equipment near each apparatus. “This is where we test our powers, Caveman,” said Leon. “We all have baseline abilities, but some of us have specialties that we try to develop. We’re called blends.”

  A shape dropped down in front of him from above. It was Yaeko. “Boo.”

  “So I guess you can climb stuff,” said Kobi.

  “She’s Gecko Girl!” said Leon.

  “Don’t call me that,” said Yaeko.

  Jo said, “Me, Yaeko, Rohan, Leon, Fionn, Asha, Niki, and a few others. We’re blends. We’re called that because the Guardians think that other organic DNA could have entered our bodies with the Waste, causing odd mutations. So we’re kind of
blended with other organisms from the natural world.”

  “You must be annoyed you don’t have a specialty,” said Yaeko to Kobi.

  “I’m not,” said Kobi, and the others laughed.

  “Kobi may only have baseline abilities, but I told you, they’re awesome,” said Asha. “Show us, Kobi.”

  “Maybe later.”

  “Check this out,” said Rohan. He made his way into a large area of the hall enclosed in a circular net that hung down from the ceiling. The netted area was about sixty-five feet in diameter. Near its perimeter stood tall cones with archery-type targets attached. Small machines carrying baseballs in a tub, with tubes at the front of them like large gun nozzles, were laid out around the net too. Rohan grabbed two baseball bats from a tub and stood in the middle of the net. He held one bat in each hand. “Draw!” he cried. Baseballs shot at him from all around. He spun and dodged, swinging the bats, often hitting multiple balls at once. The balls powered off, smashing down the targets.

  “Rohan’s specialty is his vision,” said Leon, watching his friend proudly. “His spectral range has been increased on many levels. Or something sciencey like that. So, anyway, it’s cool because he can process kinetic movement much faster. And he has night vision and can spot Waste inside people.”

  “That is pretty, er, cool,” said Kobi.

  “Why don’t we do some group ability exercises?” said Jo.

  “Go on!” said Yaeko, grinning. “Show us your powers, or we might think you don’t have any.”

  “I think I need some time on my own, actually,” said Kobi. “I’m a bit tired.” In truth he felt totally drained.

  “Sure,” said Asha. “You must be exhausted, and these guys can be hard work. Come with me.” She led him to a spare dormitory and left him to get some rest. Kobi lay back on the thick mattress. It felt too soft, like he couldn’t move, and the thick material made him sweat. He stared up at the ceiling. Luminescent stickers of stars mapped out the constellations. Nothing like the real thing. He felt overwhelmed, like someone drowning, kicking for the surface, but gradually giving in to the weight of water. The realization was dawning on him that he would be here forever. This was his home now.

  He heard someone enter without knocking. It was Niki. Kobi sat up. The girl had a bandage across her forehead, but otherwise she looked fine. The Snatcher didn’t kill her. It brought her here.

  “You’re okay,” he said.

  “Of course I am,” she said blithely. “I just came from a physical. We do them a lot. Whatever, you’ll get to know about things around here.”

  Kobi nodded. “It’s good we made it back here. All of us. I’m sorry—you know—about blaming you for turning on the Snatcher.”

  “Yeah, you’ll see how great it is here,” said Niki, ignoring his apology. “We trust the Guardians. We’re one big family. Sounds cheesy. But you’ll get it soon. Just watch out for Yaeko. She’s a real firebrand. That’s why we get along so well.” She gave a shy smile and left.

  Kobi didn’t know how long he slept. There was no natural light in Healhome, but the lights dimmed and brightened on a twenty-four-hour time cycle. When he woke, he stumbled out into the communal room, and from the dimmers it seemed like late evening, so he couldn’t have been out too long. He felt on edge, restless, and guilty for being asleep; he felt like he needed to go through security protocols. That’s all in the past. Surprisingly the thought made him feel sad. He got himself a glass of water from the canteen. He walked along the row of dorms until he came to one with a sign hanging on it, written in pen. “Fionn’s Room.” The door was slightly ajar, and he could see the young boy on his bed, reading. Kobi knocked and entered. Fionn looked up, putting down his book when he saw Kobi. “How are you feeling?” Kobi asked.

  The pale, freckled boy shrugged. In the room, there was animal-themed decor everywhere—polar bears on a bed lamp, lionesses stalking the rug. The duvet was covered in a design of flying tropical birds, their colors gaudy and bright. Kobi noticed that there were no posters though, like in the rest of Healhome. Instead, pale rectangles stood out on the wall, where, Kobi guessed, posters used to be stuck, and there were remains of old stickers ripped from the chest of drawers. Only one remained: a picture of a howling gray wolf.

  Kobi sat down next to Fionn on the bed, leaning against the wall with feet dangling over the side. Kobi pointed to the sticker of the wolf. “What happened to our friend?” Fionn pointed up at the ceiling, then gripped some imaginary bars.

  “They’ve got him up there? In a cage?”

  Fionn nodded, then stared through the opposite wall, eyes glazed. He barely seemed present, as if his mind was still out in the Wastelands. The part of him that was here appeared utterly miserable. Kobi wanted to comfort him.

  “Well, you guys were right about the Snatchers,” Kobi said. “They don’t kill things with their stings. And I’m sure they’ll release the wolf, you know, back to its home. They probably just want to run some tests or something.” Fionn didn’t reply. “You’re like me, aren’t you?” Kobi said. “You find this place weird.” Fionn met Kobi’s gaze. “I feel like I’m surrounded by people, but I’m the loneliest I’ve ever been. You know?” Fionn looked down to his lap. He seemed as closed up as Kobi had ever known him. “I’m finding it pretty weird, if I’m honest,” Kobi continued. “I reckon I could live here fine, though. And if I can, you can, right? We’ll be friends.”

  There were tears in the boy’s eyes. Kobi edged closer. “What’s wrong, Fionn?” he said. “Why do you hate being here so much? The others seem to like it.”

  Fionn wiped his eyes. Then he gazed at Kobi, and Kobi felt his scalp prickling. Fionn was trying to send him something telepathically. Kobi reached for Fionn’s hand and placed it on his temple. Fionn’s look hardened, then he closed his eyes and Kobi did so too. The prickling sensation strengthened.

  In the darkness, Kobi heard sounds first of all. A voice through a speaker: “We are bringing in the specimen now.” There was a blaring sound and something like metal grating on metal. Sterile white light invaded Kobi’s vision, and he found himself in a chamber at Healhome. Scientists looked on from behind a glass screen with clipboards, and some held strange metal devices like mini radars. Melanie was there. She nodded encouragingly through the glass at a young boy standing nearby to Kobi.

  It was Fionn.

  He looked no older than seven. There were wires taped all around his head, which was clean-shaven. The wires trailed down to some kind of machine attached to his belt. Kobi could see the green tracks of veins through the papery white skin on Fionn’s scalp. The young boy stared at a door, which slid open. Three CLAWS guards entered, escorting a large industrial-type vehicle, with caterpillar tracks and a forklift at the front. In the vehicle’s prongs rested a six-foot-square metal cage, with a pane of thick, semitransparent glass at the front. Muffled growls and scratching noises could be heard from inside it. They made Kobi’s skin crawl. Sounded like a mammal. Big.

  “Beginning Communicative Telepathy Experiment 13.2, date tenth of September 2049,” said a bland male voice through the speaker. “Test Case Healhome Patient S591.”

  Fionn was shaking on the spot, squeezing his fists by his side.

  What are they going to do to him? Kobi thought.

  Melanie’s voice took over the speaker. “You can do this, Fionn,” she said. “Please, Fionn, you can; do this for me. You’ve shown that you can. This is no different from before.” Melanie’s tone—meant to be warm and encouraging—just sounded cold and robotic through the sound-channeling system.

  “I don’t think I can,” said Fionn, in a squeaky voice. “I don’t want to.”

  “Fionn,” said Melanie, more sternly. “You must try. Remember what I said. You are helping to save the world. We need to understand the Waste. We need to understand what you can do.”

  “Okay,” said Fionn. But he sounded terrified, confused. The cage slowly lowered to the floor on the forklift. The animal inside it began to
thrash and roar, shaking the cage and denting the metal sides. Kobi drew back instinctively, even though he knew he was only a spectator to the vision. Through the frosted glass at the front, Kobi caught sight of a flash of long, furred limbs and a dark snout. Yellow eyes.

  “Okay, please prepare, Fionn,” said Melanie.

  Fionn closed his eyes and screwed up his face. Little lights connected to the wires on his head began to light up. The forklift truck reversed, leaving the cage on the ground, and the guards backed away with it, toward the door. Fionn was sweating now, the dome of his head shining in the wan glow of the strip lighting. No, they can’t . . . , thought Kobi.

  Fionn opened his eyes and began to sob. “No, don’t leave it here.”

  “Focus, Fionn!” said Melanie. The lights along the wires connected to Fionn’s head flashed brighter and quicker. “Hurry up and get out of there, Guard—”

  A loud bang made Kobi jump. Spider cracks fissured over the cage’s frosted glass like splitting ice. “Control it, Fionn!” urged Melanie from behind the glass. “You’re transferring to it your distressed emotions. It’s aggravating the animal! Happy thoughts, Fionn, remember! Think of happy things!”

  Fionn opened his mouth “I—”

  Smash.

  The glass at the front of the cage shattered. Shouts echoed through the speaker. Some kind of mutated black bear, with elongated, spidery limbs and a snout more like a canine’s squeezed through the broken glass. Kobi wanted to run to Fionn, to help him.

  Fionn backed away. “No, it’s out; I can’t make it stop,” he said, his voice a high-pitched croak. His back hit the wall, and he slid down it, burying his head in his knees.

  “No, Fionn!” shouted Melanie’s voice. “Guardians, get out of there!”

  The bear padded toward Fionn. Kobi thought the creature would maul him any second, but the hum of the truck speeding away made the creature’s head swing around with a snarl. The retreating guards fled, feet pounding on the white enamel floor. The bear’s eyes glared yellow, maddened. Saliva whipped from its red gums. It bounded for the nearest Guardian.