by S. G. Basu
“I vote for going,” Kusha said simply.
Dani nodded and smiled. “I’m going too, Maia,” she declared. “Are you coming with us or not?”
Maia stared at her friends for the longest while, not knowing what to say. There was no power in this world that would dissuade this bunch, and she definitely did not stand a chance.
Ren held his fist forward at the center of the small circle.
“Together,” he said.
“Together.” Kusha’s fist flew in.
“Together,” Nafi and Dani followed in unison.
Maia was the last to go, the hesitation in her still unrelenting when she put her fist on top of the little pile in front of her.
“Together,” she whispered.
39: At the Water Lock
They sneaked out of the dorm a little before midnight, while all the others were sound asleep. The trip down the elevator to the fiftieth floor was eventless. There were not too many people around, and of the few who busily walked past, no one seemed curious about a bunch of kids.
The fiftieth floor was a public floor, a lowly floor. Maia felt the difference immediately—everything seemed dismal and colorless down here compared to the floors they lived in, and a world seemed to separate the two. Down here, a lot of dreary work seemed to be done. Traces of that toil lingered in the dull floorboards and grimy half-scrubbed walls. Bare corridors spoke of a hard life. Dani led them quickly past the first set of corridors that stretched across the width of Zagran to the smaller set of passageways that ran along the edge of the city. She paused, counted, picked the third corridor, and walked briskly into it.
“There it is.” She pointed at a door on her right. “The ladders should be in there.”
“Let’s find out.” Kusha tugged at the handle.
The door opened with a loud screech making everyone jump in surprise. A strong musty smell of a long-closed damp room hit Maia right away. It was powerful and unpleasant. Kusha paused at the open door briefly before walking straight to the ledge of the row of ladders. Slowly the rest of the group followed him inside. It was a small stairwell, and the ladders went around the square cage of the well in a prolonged spiral down to the bottom of Zagran. They were made of open metal gratings, not shiny anymore, but not rusted either. Small lights shone dimly in their half-broken holders, casting long, strange shadows on the damp, unpainted walls. It was a depressing path that lay ahead, a laborious one as well.
“We better get going,” Kusha said, starting to climb down. “It doesn’t feel half as bad as it looks.”
“That’s good to hear.” Nafi was on the rungs in the next instant.
They clambered down slowly, clawing at the metal bars, reaching out for the dark walls for every bit of extra support they could get. Every floor opened onto a platform that extended into the stairwell; between each floor were three ladders. Dani kept count of the number of floors they passed, an important task since it was bad enough climbing down the stairs, and no one wanted to do it more than what was necessary.
Halfway down, on the twenty-first floor, Kusha came to an abrupt halt.
“Stop, everyone,” he shouted. “The steps are a little soft on this one.”
“Which one?” Ren shouted back.
“The one that I’m stan—” His voice faded into a muted shout as the ladder he was standing on bent abruptly and swung freely downward. Kusha slid down the broken rails, hit the stairs a level below and collapsed in a jumbled heap.
“Kusha,” Maia screamed in panic.
Not a sound came from Kusha. Above him, Nafi crawled to the brink of the unbroken section. “I’ll jump,” she declared after a while.
“What do you mean?” Ren asked. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Nafi, stop talking nonsense,” Maia shouted from the top of the queue.
“She’s right. That’s the only way to get to Kusha,” Dani said in a tone that made Maia look at her in surprise. A cold conviction had overpowered her usually soft voice, making it sound almost like Aerika’s. “Do what you have to do, Nafi. Just be careful.”
Nafi nodded, scrambled down to the edge, and dropped herself to the lower level. Her feet narrowly missed the rungs, Maia could hear her knees scrape against the metal, but as Nafi slid downward, her hand grabbed the rails and she held. Kusha groaned and stirred as Nafi found space to kneel beside him.
“Are you all right?” Nafi asked as Kusha slowly came to. He tenderly rubbed the side of his head, and he clutched at his right elbow.
“Yes,” he moaned. He sat up groggily, looked at Nafi, and then looked up in concern at the other three still dangling above.
“Come on, Kusha,” Nafi said, linking her arms through the boy’s. “We need to give them room to land.”
As Nafi and Kusha moved away from under the broken ladder, Ren slowly dropped down. Dani and Maia soon followed without incident. Kusha kept on massaging his arm so Maia assumed it still hurt, but other than being worried about it, there was not much anyone could do.
“Do you realize that we’re stuck below this level now?” Maia blurted, as a sudden clarity swept through her brain.
The ladder was broken above them and the only path was downward. Without access to a watercraft, there was simply no way to get back to the UAAS.
“No point thinking about that now,” Dani replied, striding to the next set of ladders. “We better get to our destination in time at least.”
They continued laboring down the staircase without speaking; even the injured Kusha did not make the tiniest sound. After what seemed like forever, they reached the tenth floor.
Maia held her breath as she stepped out of the stairwell. They were on the ill-fated tenth floor where the most recent fire had broken out, claiming nineteen lives. Dark walls around them were a grim reminder of the terrible incident from weeks earlier. The entire floor was charred, blackened from floor to ceiling. Remains of burned items lay scattered around the place, and broken pieces of wires and trims hung free from the ceiling and the walls. It was a depressing sight, and Maia picked up the pace, eager to avoid looking around. A few turns around the corridor brought them to a series of dilapidated-looking rooms, each marked with worn-out numbers. Dani stopped at the one marked twenty-four. She looked back at the rest of the group, turned the handle, and stepped inside.
The shabbiest room in Zagran greeted them quite hospitably. It was dimly lit for sure, but what it lacked in luster it more than made up for in character. Dampness spread its wide arms across the walls, creating a pattern of moisture that was eerie yet fascinating. The floors were no better; they were uneven and rough, and patches of the surface had been plucked out unkindly. The only opening other than the door was a large porthole covered with an orange lid that glared angrily from the middle of the dark floor.
“That must be the water lock.” Dani pointed at the orange-lidded porthole.
“Does that lead to the outside?” Ren asked, kneeling beside the lid to study it closely.
“Yes, these are the pathways from the early days when Zagran was being built,” Dani explained with a lingering look around the room. “None of the fancy waterways or the transporter lines existed back then. It was a few floors of hastily made housing, not even insulated with care. Funny that I’ve never been to these rooms before, hardly ever heard of them.”
“Why are they all kept open without guards or protection?” Nafi asked. “What if someone decides to break in from the bottom?”
“Oh no, that’s not possible.” Dani waved away her worries. “The bottom of Zagran is protected by a series of moats and locks. No one, with the exception of those with the highest government clearance, can pass through the moats into the city.”
“Which means,” Maia thought aloud, “Bikele has such clearance.”
“Most likely so,” Dani nodded.
“I wonder what time it is,” Kusha said as he kneeled next to the water lock.
The loud pop that resounded through the small room, fol
lowed by the sudden opening of the lid just as Kusha’s hand touched it, made them all jump back toward the walls. A shiny water-gear-covered head emerged slowly from the hole, gleaming eyes scanning the room from inside the air mask. Within moments, the dark figure hoisted itself into the room, closed the lid of the porthole, and took a few deliberate steps toward Maia.
40: A Story of Lost Friendships
Ren rushed between Maia and the man. As Kusha planted himself next to Ren, Maia felt Nafi and Dani move closer to her on both sides.
“What do you want from Maia?” Ren demanded. They were all unarmed, and Maia knew that neither Ren nor anyone else would stand a chance against this man who was more than twice as large as the biggest of them. But she also knew there was no stopping Ren, or the rest, from trying to protect each other from whatever came their way.
“What are you? Her security detail?” the man asked as he took the air mask off. Strands of unkempt hair fell free and hung loose on his unfriendly face.
“Yes, you mind?” Nafi snapped.
Bikele chuckled and looked around at the faces. “Plucky bunch,” he observed. He bent a little, leveled his eyes with Ren’s, and bowed his head a bit. “I mean no harm to your friend . . . only need to talk to her in private.”
“Well, this is all the privacy you’ll get,” Kusha declared. “I suggest you get talking fast.”
Bikele seemed angry as he looked at Kusha, muscles tightened around his jaw, and his lips thinned showing a bit of his clenched teeth.
“Please, let them stay,” Maia pleaded, taking a step forward. “We have no secrets between us.”
Bikele stared at her for what seemed like eternity before his eyes twinkled. Then he kneeled before Maia and gazed into her eyes without blinking, as if she were a precious long-lost object that had been found again.
“How . . . you have grown. The last time I saw you, you were the tiniest little baby. Sophie’s little baby girl. Oh . . . how we had celebrated the night you were born,” he said, halting over every word as Maia stood in stunned surprise.
His hard features had melted into a softness that Maia had seen all too often on Dada’s face. Love and tenderness streamed down on her and enveloped her in its warmth.
“What? How?” That was all Maia could manage to say.
“You were born under the seas, Maia,” Bikele smiled radiantly as he waved his hand around him. “Right here in Zagran, this is your birthplace.”
“You . . . you took Sophie back to Miorie?” Maia recalled Dada’s account of the night he had first seen Maia at an inn in Miorie—a dying Sophie barely had time to place Maia’s hand in Dada’s. Maia had often wondered how such a seriously ailing woman had managed to come to the inn by herself.
“Yes, Zaara and I did,” Bikele replied. He looked down at the floor, and when he looked up again, his face had hardened. “We asked the innkeeper to call on Sophie’s father, and we watched from the shadows as he rushed in. We could not show ourselves—it would mean risking you. I had never hoped to see you again. But fate brought you back to me. I caught a glimpse of Bellator the other day, and I remembered a girl I had known who had wielded it. Then I wondered if it were you. And when Aerika called your name, I had no doubt in my mind—you had to be Sophie’s daughter. In that instant, I knew we were all wrong. Sophie had planned to protect you by shielding you from your past, but there’s no stopping destiny. What you really need is the knowledge of your past, of your mother’s past. And I have decided I will help you, as much as I can, to rebuild it for you.”
“Zaara . . . who’s that?” Maia asked.
Bikele smiled and looked around the room again. The five youngsters stood around him, alert and vigilant.
“It’s a long story, kids, so you better sit yourselves down.”
Nafi plopped down right in front of the man, and Maia and Ren kneeled next to her. Kusha and Dani remained standing behind the seated trio, watching the proceedings.
“I met Sophie and Zaara for the first time in Zagran, at the Super Convention of Energy Morphers hosted by the UAAS. The two brilliant girls from the XDA were the talk of the university, and everyone wanted to know them and be their friend. I did not care much, but as fate would have it, a botched talk and a misunderstanding later, I found myself chatting endlessly with the two. Zaara talked for the most part. Sophie was quieter. She was reserved and cautious while her friend was fiery-tempered and impulsive.
“When they left after the convention, I did not hope to see them again, but I was wrong. They came back and took up internships with our government, surprising a lot of people, including me.”
“Dada said that Sophie lived here for a few years,” Maia recalled.
“Yes, they both did,” Bikele said. “We worked on the Damoclian Project together. It was a happy time. And our friendship grew stronger; we found deeper bonds in our shared concerns for the world and ideas that tied us together. But I knew there were secrets they kept from me; the shadow of darkness grew every day in their eyes. They would not tell me—I was not in their circle, they said.”
“Their circle?” Nafi stared wide-eyed at Bikele.
Bikele nodded. “Yes, the Crae—”
“Craedonnen?” Maia blurted. Mahswa Tabrin had used that word, a Xifarian word that meant a “circle of trust.”
“Yes,” Bikele nodded. “It was the four of them: Sophie, Zaara, Asiyaah and Raidyn. No one else could know their secrets. After a while, I gave up asking. I was happy with my friendship; I could do without the secrets.”
He paused again, his eyes glazed. He seemed to search for happy memories in those days that had faded and time and again, his eyes sparkled.
“Then one day, Sophie disappeared. She did not say good-bye, not to me, not even to Zaara. I knew Zaara was heartbroken, but she bore it with strength. All she said was, ‘I’m glad that Sophie could break the circle. Maybe one day I can tell you, Bikele, and then you would understand.’
“Another year passed, the Exchange happened and turned our lives upside down, and we still had no news of Sophie. I always suspected that Zaara knew, but she would not tell. One morning, I woke up to a loud knocking on my door—it was Zaara, and she was distraught. She had found out that Sophie was being held prisoner in the Gnelexian sector on Xif. They would kill her, she said. I did not understand much but I realized Sophie was in trouble, big trouble.”
Something snapped inside Maia. Vivid memories of a conversation flashed through her mind. The Gnelexian sector—the fearsome prison run by the mind-reading Gnelexians. No one survives their mind probes. So Miir had said.
“About a week later, Zaara came to visit me again, this time in the darkness of night. She was dressed for travel and she needed me to come with her. I was about to ask her about our destination when she sat me down and said it was time I knew. She told me all about the Verto-balancer Capsule and what Sophie had done with it.”
“You know about the Capsule too?” Kusha said incredulously. He was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest.
“Yes,” Bikele replied, his tone guarded. “That’s the reason I’m here tonight. How much do you know about that, Maia?”
“A . . . little.” Maia hesitated. She had just met this man, and it was a bit too early to share everything about Sophie’s message with him. But then . . . he seemed to know a lot already. “I know she broke it. She did it to save Tansi. And she wanted me to be careful.”
“She worried about you,” Bikele said solemnly. “Had it not been for recent events, I would have respected Sophie’s wish of keeping you far away from your past. I would have kept the promise Zaara and I made to Sophie.”
“But wait, where did Zaara take you? Did you break into the Gnelexian prison?” Nafi asked.
“Are you crazy? No one has ever broken into the Gnelexian prison, absolutely no one,” Ren remarked.
“He’s right. That’s what Zaara said.” Bikele nodded at Ren. “We were not about to plan a prison break. We were going to Xif
because Zaara received an anonymous note asking her to come and get Sophie.”
“And you trusted an anonymous note?” Dani’s mouth fell open. She stood with her arms crossed, towering over the small group on the floor. “It could’ve been a trap.”
“Could’ve been, but we didn’t have a choice. Imagine if you were in my place. You were told that this was the only chance your best friend had to get out of that monstrous place alive. What would you have done?” Bikele asked. Dani sighed and looked away. “Yes, you would have done the same.”
“Did you find Sophie?” Maia asked impatiently.
“We did find Sophie. We had been asked to be at the underpass of Ixiil, behind the fountain of Toomlas. And she was there. Someone had left her there, wrapped in a blanket, slumped on a bench. Why they let her out of the prison, who had contacted us, we did not know. All we knew was that this was our one chance to get Sophie back home. So Zaara and I took Sophie and got out of Xif as fast as we could. And we didn’t stop until we reached Zagran.”
“Sophie was sick already, wasn’t she?” Maia whispered, recalling more of what Miir had said. Gnelexian scans, along with the information they seek, sucks out consciousness from the mind. A subject won’t necessarily die, but will exist like a mindless corpse.
“Yes.” Bikele nodded. “The bright and beautiful girl I had met the year before was nothing but a broken shadow of what had been. The light of the Sedara had consumed her soul, and the Gnelexian mind probes had weakened her consciousness. But . . . she was still alive. And when we brought her back to Zagran, we found a greater miracle. We found out about you, Maia, her unborn child.”
Everyone turned to look at Maia. It was hard enough to hear about Sophie without the attention, and now with all eyes on her it was near impossible to keep from tearing up. But Maia held strong; not even a sigh escaped her lips.
“And the miracle that you were, Maia.” Bikele gently touched her cheek. “It was a wonder that you had survived the light that consumed your mother. We had not hoped for much, but you were born perfect in every sense. In one of her brief moments of clarity, Sophie had named you and asked us to take you to Miorie. ‘Call her Maia. Take her to my father. Keep her safe. Don’t let my life cast a shadow on hers.’ And so we did. We took both of you to Miorie to your grandfather.”