by Edge, T. C.
By the time we meet Leeta on the other side, she appears to have lightened up once more. She leads us straight inside and into a lift, which quickly shoots us up onto the 12th floor of this floating behemoth. When we step out, we enter into a large social area filled with comfortable seats. At one end is a long bar serving drinks and all sorts of food. At the sides, viewing areas provide expansive views through large glass windows.
I drift towards one and move up close to the glass, staring down at the incredible sight below. From up here, I can see everything: the merchant docks and fishing port next door; the factories and warehouses and tall residential blocks. Beyond, a little way down the coast, I see what Leeta told us was the military harbour. Several huge ships lie against the docks, with several others seemingly under construction.
My eyes scan the landscape beyond the city, all the way up away from the coast towards the Graveyard. I can just about make out the sight of vehicles crawling along the road leading through it, many bringing supplies to be exported and traded down at the port. In all my life, I've only ever stepped a floor or two up from the ground. Now, it seems, the entire world lies at my feet.
I hear Ellie by my side, exhaling in wonder as she joins me by the glass. “I've never seen anything like it,” she says, her eyes unblinking.
“Just wait until we reach Eden.” I turn to see Leeta behind us, staring over our shoulders. “There's a whole wide world out there girls. More than the regions you come from. It's time to spread your wings and fulfil your potential. Because I know you both have great potential, deep down inside.”
She smiles at both of us before slipping her electronic tablet from her bag. “OK, we'll be in Eden by evening. Both of you feel free to enjoy the space up here, but don't leave this floor. You're not authorised to go anywhere else, OK.”
She waits for us both to answer. We do so by nodding.
“Choose any seat you can find if you want to relax and rest, and enjoy any drinks and food over on the tables at the front.”
Ellie and I look at each other, our eyebrows drawn down in confusion. “What do you mean? We can take whatever we want?”
Leeta nods and smiles. “This is an Eden boat for Eden residents. Enjoy what you wish.”
With that she steps quickly away and over towards the other side of the room. I watch as she approaches what appears to be a group of other Testers, all dressed in grey and with slicked back dark hair. I wonder if that's part of the criteria to become one. Must have black hair, pale skin, and an annoying enthusiasm for just about everything.
I feel Ellie tug at my arm and drag my attention back towards the promise of food and drink. “Did she really mean that? That we can have anything?”
“I guess so,” I say, glancing over at the bar as people casually peruse it. “You wanna check it out?”
She nods quickly, as if she's just been given permission to do something by her mother, and quickly skips over towards it. I follow behind as more eyes begin tracing my every step.
I must look so out of place with my golden skin and hair. I see few people with anything more than a light splash of colour on their cheeks. Most have black, grey, or dark brown hair, with the lightest shades nothing more than a murky blonde colour. Perhaps it's the sort of colour my hair would be if it wasn't constantly exposed to sunlight.
When I arrive at the long table, covered in plates of food I've rarely, if ever, eaten (and many I've never even seen), I'm feeling incredibly self conscious. Ellie, however, seems lost to her own cravings, and is hastily piling a plate full of cakes and chocolate muffins and other such treats that only appear on birthdays back home. I suppose people just think she's a bona fide Edenite, with her light skin and brown hair. Perhaps the precocious daughter of a family returning from holiday. I doubt many would place her as a school leaver. She really doesn't look old enough.
I follow behind Ellie, who's suddenly burst from her shell amid her desires for such rare foods. She's acting like this is going to be her one chance to eat like this. Maybe she really thinks that's the case. That perhaps she'll arrive at Eden and she'll be back on the rations she's used to having.
I lose what little appetite I have when I realise that won't be the case. That this is how Edenites live day in and day out. So we bust a gut out in the regions and get paltry rations for our efforts, while here they're all chowing down daily on delicacies generally saved for the most special of occasions back home.
I know what Leeta would tell me if I challenged her on it. That those on Eden are doing the most important work, and therefore get the best food and drink and comfort and just about everything else in between. Then I'd say that during her speech at the Duty Call she said the opposite. That every duty, every role, was as important as the next. I'm sure she'd come back with some defence, some reason to try to make me understand, and in the end where would I get? Nowhere. She'd probably say I should be happy to be in this position. That I shouldn't moan when I'm the one reaping the rewards.
And I wouldn't answer her, because they'd be no point. All I'd do is think of people like Madge back home. An elderly woman, picking fruit all day just to survive. When she can no longer work, she'll slowly starve to death, and no one will do anything to help her.
And on that same day, perhaps a few years from now, I'll be gathered at a table like this, choosing from between hundreds of different sweet and savoury foods. By that time, maybe I'll have forgotten her. Maybe I won't give it a second thought. When that day comes, I'll be a true Edenite.
It's a thought that makes me sick to my bones.
8 - Eden
When the ship leaves port, I decide to move away from the buffet bar and into a seat where fewer eyes can see me. As usual, I migrate towards the back and collapse into a large, white, chair with padded arms and a footrest. Immediately the cushioned fabric moulds itself to my body and reclines as I lean back. Sitting in it, I feel almost weightless.
High up and towards the front of the ship, I barely feel the rumble of the turbines at the back. The ship runs, according to Leeta, on a sort of jet propulsion both over and beneath the surface of the water. Below, huge rudders steer its direction, with additional propellers used to provide an extra burst of speed when needed.
Ellie joins me after a few minutes, looking slightly more sluggish than before and holding a plate overflowing with food. I don't think she quite understands the implications of it all. The disparity of life where she came from and life here. Or maybe she just doesn't care. I really don't know her well enough to judge yet.
She offers me the chance to share her plate, but I tell her I'm not hungry. “It's motion sickness,” I say, despite the fact that, in this floating giant, you really can't feel a thing.
I find myself drawn to the window on more than one occasion as we go. The first happens only a few minutes after the engines start rumbling. Close to where I'm sitting I spy an empty viewing window, so quickly take my position up against the glass. I watch as the harbour city of Piscator grows smaller in the distance, before eventually fading almost completely from view. Within 15 minutes, miles and miles of coastline have been revealed, fishing, military, and ship-building settlements lining their banks.
After an additional 15 minutes, I can see nothing but open water in every direction. Among the crashing waves I spot much smaller vessels cruising along the water and thank God, at least, that I'm not on one of those. I've spent my entire life on dry land and have never even learned to swim. Back home, there's little need for it, and it's not exactly part of daily life there. So the idea of shipping out to sea in a vessel any smaller than this hulking beast doesn't exactly fill my head with happy thoughts.
My second trip to the window, after a short period away from it, is brought on by Leeta, who has by now returned from her impromptu meeting with the other Testers. She approaches both myself and Ellie, who now appears so full she can barely move, and asks that we follow her back towards the glass.
When we reach it, I see dozens o
f rectangular towers rising out of the ocean at varying heights. Some rise a couple of stories above the waves; others many more, stretching high into the heavens. Tunnels and walkways connect them together, on which people walk and vehicles drive. At the edge, many ships sit in a sea harbour, busy with tradesmen and merchants.
“What is this place?” asks Ellie, her face pressed up against the glass.
“It's known as New Atlantis,” says Leeta. “It was once a great city called New York. These towers you see were huge skyscrapers, some over a hundred floors high. All you see now are their tips above the water.”
I search my eyes to the base of the closest tower and see a shadow beneath the surface, stretching down into the depths below.
“They're called seascrapers now,” says Leeta, following my eyes. “People live and work in them, even below the surface. Many have at least a few underwater floors with clear glass. One, I've heard, takes you all the way down to the ocean floor where it's so dark outside you'd think it was night.”
“Have you ever been there? Down in the city I mean?” asks Ellie.
Leeta shakes her head. “My duty doesn't take me there, no. There are no schools there, no children, no Testing and no Duty Call. It's primarily a merchant city and, well, it's a city of vice.”
We both wait for her to continue, which she duly does after a brief pause.
“It's a place where travellers go. Merchants and politicians and military personnel to relax and be entertained. It's more of a free city, you could say.”
“And how does that sit with Eden?” I question.
“They tolerate it. It gives people some means of release, which is often important.”
“Well, I know where I'm going on vacation,” says Ellie, although I'm not sure she quite understands what Leeta is saying. I'd imagine sordid women and drinking and smoking and other intoxicants are what you'll get down there.
“OK girls, come with me. There are a few people I want you to meet.”
Leeta now leads us away from the window and towards the back where I saw her greet all those Testers. Please don't tell me she's going to introduce us to them, I think to myself. I'm not sure I can stomach a bunch of Leetas right now.
In a small gathering at the back, however, are a group of girls and boys, presumably school leavers assigned to Eden. They talk excitedly among themselves, each with a beaming smile on their face and shining, hopeful, eyes.
Leeta introduces us around, reciting each of their names one by one as we shake hands. When she asks each to tell us their duty, they happily announce that they're Scientists and Healers and Engineers.
“These are the best of the best from the mainland, girls. You see what company you're with?”
I nod and smile along, but when asked about our duties neither Ellie nor myself can offer a straight answer. When we tell them that we haven't been assigned yet we're met with varying looks of confusion, bemusement, and fascination.
We speak to them for a few minutes before returning to our seats where I plan to settle in for the remainder of the journey. Leeta hovers nearby, though, telling me once again what a privilege it is to be assigned to Eden.
“That's how you should be behaving girls. You should be over there, socialising and getting excited. You see how they were? No frowns and fears. Happiness and excitement. That's the way it should be.”
I nod a few times before closing my eyes and lying back in my seat, before Leeta huffs and wanders off again. Frankly, she can't tell me how I'm supposed to feel. I feel how I feel. That's it. Nothing she says will change that, although part of me appreciates what she's trying to do.
It looks as though the sheer weight of food Ellie took on not so long ago is having an effect on her. I turn to see her lying back in her seat, her eyes beginning to fade as she falls asleep. Outside, the windows are starting to grow dark, streaks of rain slashing across them. Storms, I know, are common out to sea. Back home they're rare as a blue rose.
It grows quieter as the hours trickle by. I suppose many people are afflicted as Ellie is, relaxing in their seats and enjoying the remainder of the journey. A light chatter still sounds as groups talk here and there, and the distant, but continuous, rumble of the engines murmurs constantly in the background. Outside, I hear the lightest patter of rain against glass, and notice the distant flash of lightning far away across the ocean.
Ellie groans at my side, and I turn to see her eyes flickering as she sleeps. Her mouth moves, too, which I find slightly more unusual, her lips whispering words I can't make out. I lean closer to try to hear, but it all sounds like garbled nonsense; random words cobbled together that have no clear meaning.
Gradually, she grows slightly more frantic, her head and entire body starting to twitch, her words growing louder. People begin to notice, turning from the seats in front of us and shooting disapproving stares at me, as if I'm the one making all the noise and am somehow responsible.
When it gets too much, I reach over and shake Ellie by the shoulder, waking her from her nightmare. Her eyes open wide almost immediately, her body growing suddenly still.
“Bad dreams?” I ask her.
She nods, but doesn't say anything, before standing and rushing away towards the toilet behind us. She returns a few minutes later and tells me she was feeling ill. I'd believe her, given how much she's eaten, if her eyes weren't red. It's obvious that she's been crying again.
Soon I see more lights out the window, but this time they're not flashes of lightning but stationary. I move over to take a closer look and notice hundreds, maybe thousands of lights twinkling in the distance. Some are brighter and larger than others and create a shape against the black night. The shape of a long dome, miles away on top of the ocean.
I stay put by the window as the ship continues to chug closer. Slowly, the city of Eden comes into view, and for the first time I see in real life what I've been seeing in flashes in my dreams. Those huge black pylons, that towering platform, the massive walls protecting it from the driving waves and fierce weather.
We move closer, and extra details emerge. Docking points for ships of various sizes at different levels above the surf. A giant domed roof that covers the entire city. Guns and various lookout points fixed to its extremities.
Again, I hardly notice when Ellie and Leeta join me, my eyes transfixed to this impossible structure. “How deep do the columns go,” I whisper to Leeta.
“Not as far as you might think, given how far off shore we are. I think it's only a few hundred feet, actually. Beneath us, there's a raised portion of the ocean floor. That's why this spot was chosen.”
“A raised portion. Like an underwater mountain?” asks Ellie.
“Yes, exactly. The other points of the ocean here are much deeper. All of the sea cities that are far out into the ocean are built on suitably high foundations. Otherwise, it would have been impossible.”
“Impossible,” I whisper, still staring at the structure. “It all seems impossible to me.”
“Yes, quite a feat of engineering and architecture. When you're inside the city walls, however, you'd hardly even notice you were at sea. There's no rocking, no rolling in the waves. Unless you're near the edge, you can't even see the ocean.”
“But does it smell as bad there as it did in the last place?” asks Ellie.
“Oh, of course not,” says Leeta chuckling. “Eden is a paradise on earth. The only smells are those of beautiful flowers and delicious foods.”
“Even in the scientific labs?” I ask bluntly. Her smiley nature really grates on me sometimes. “Or how about the hospital? I assume there's a hospital there, given how one of those kids we met earlier is going to be a Healer.”
“It's a figure of speech, Cyra, don't be so antagonistic. All I'm saying is that it won't smell bad in Eden, OK.”
“Yeah, I'll bet the toilets smell of roses too,” I say, turning back to look out of the window.
I hear Leeta muttering something behind me along the lines of “ruden
ess like that won't be tolerated in Eden,” but don't respond.
We're getting close now, the ship beginning to turn sideways to dock against a long tunnel extending from the city walls. It looks like there are many of these to cater to ships of different heights and allowing for easy passage into the city without having to be exposed to the elements.
The tunnel continues to extend from the wall before stopping in place as the ship gracefully glides into position next to it. I feel a steady rumble through the floor as the connection is made and people begin gathering their things to depart.
“All regular passengers disembark from the 8th floor,” comes an announcement, before repeating several times over until we get the message.
“Right, come on,” says Leeta, leading us away towards the lifts. The crowd gathers around and once more I see people looking at me. Amid that throng of drab colours I must stick out like a sore thumb.
Within a few minutes we've made it down to the 8th floor and are stepping off into the inside of the tunnel extending from the city. People march forward, eager perhaps to get back to their homes and beds before starting work the following day. Yet here I don't see the long faces and weary expressions I'm used to. People walk briskly, their faces lit with smiles, chatting happily with each other as they go.
At the far end of the tunnel people start to bottleneck, working their way through security. Once more we have our barcodes, bags, and bodies scanned, before Leeta directs us through the outer wall and into the inner perimeter of the city. This stretches all the way around its boundary, providing people with an easy way to move around the inside of the wall.
It's cavernous and wide, with tracks going up the middle for a form of public transport called a tram. It's super-quick, and can go right round the entire perimeter of the city in only a few minutes without stopping.