by JN Chaney
“Cost,” he scoffed. “What cost? You think what’s happening to us is a bad thing?”
“Of course it is,” he said. “The whole world’s turned into a nightmare. If we’ve got a chance to fix it, we have to take it.”
“And you really think you can? Okay, fine. Maybe you pull a switch and manage to change the sky. Hell, maybe the air turns back to what it used to be and people can start leaving the city and come to the surface again. What do you think’s going to happen when they get here? Did you forget about how the rabs are so strong they can rip your face clear off? How about the fact there isn’t any food? How do you expect anyone to survive?”
“We’ll find a way.”
“Oh, you think so, huh? Well, let me tell you what I think is going to happen. No, scratch what I said. Let me tell you what will definitely happen. First, the people in your city are lazy. They grew up with beds and pillows, plenty of food and water. There’s no way they’ll leave their nice, little cage if it means they have to work. Second, the government’s never going to let it happen. They have control down there. They can police a city, easy, but not a countryside. No matter what you do, those people are never going to leave.”
“Then, why create us? Why waste their time all those years on making us?”
“Because they only want a few of us. We’re easier to control. You really think they’d mass produce people like you and me—people who can go anywhere and do anything? They’re not stupid. Better to have a few you can control than an army you can’t. They need us to do their dirty work. We’re the new soldiers, Terry.”
“Even if you’re right, it doesn’t matter. The city can’t last forever. People will eventually leave. If we learned anything in school, it’s that things change. It’s why we have to do this now, while we still have a chance.”
“So you’re willing to bet it all on a chance?” asked Alex.
“Better to try than do nothing,” he said.
Terry spied a panel behind Alex. It had the Ortego symbol for electricity on it—two lightning bolts in the shape of a circle. They were faded and covered by dust. Terry barely recognized it. “Excuse me,” he said, walking around Alex.
He swept the dust off the lightning symbol, making sure he wasn’t mistaken, then called for Mei and John.
“Good job,” said Mei. She opened a hatch on the side until she found a port. She plugged her pad into it and began working. “Should only be a minute.”
“After this, it’s back to the control room,” said Terry.
Mei nodded. “We flip the switch and call it a day.” A loud pop erupted from the machine, startling them. It was followed shortly by a rising hum. “Sorry,” said Mei. She unhooked the pad. “This should do it.”
John helped her up. “Are you sure it’ll be that easy?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” asked Mei.
“I’m not saying it won’t, but I’ve been thinking...”
“Dangerous territory for you,” said Terry, snickering.
“Never leads to a good place,” agreed Mei.
John rolled his eyes. “No one’s ever turned this machine off before. We don’t know what’s going to happen when we do it. What if it explodes or something?”
Mei hesitated. “Oh, I didn’t consider that.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Terry.
“John’s got a point,” she said. “We don’t know what will happen. It’s possible the machine could react…um, negatively.”
“As in, blow up?” asked Terry.
“Which would be bad, right?” asked John.
“Only for us,” said Mei.
Terry thought for a moment. “Is it possible to trigger the shutdown program from outside this building? You know, like a remote control?”
“Maybe,” said Mei. “I’d have to look at the console back in the control room to make sure. Our pads could probably do it if we set up a program.”
John grimaced. “Probably, she says.”
“Story of our lives,” said Terry.
*******
Atop the grated platform suspended in the air, Terry stared through the paned glass cylinder and deep into the void of the rift. The edges pulsed gently, almost rhythmically, as though to some unsung melody. Inside, a vast and empty dark lay still, lingering on the edge of its reality, begging to be free. Yet Terry knew without knowing that behind the dark there must be something—the birthplace of the Jolt, the spawning grounds of Variant—and for a moment, he let his mind wander at the thought of stepping through the door and to the impossible truth beyond.
He pulled himself back, blinking at the sight of the machine and the miracle within. He turned away, both ashamed and half afraid of the place his mind had taken him.
Mei crouched beside him, fiddling with her pad, preparing the receiver. John and Alex stood at the end of the platform, waiting. “How much longer?” asked Terry.
“I’ve almost got it,” said Mei. She was using John’s pad in conjunction with her own. One to send, another to receive. They were lucky to have the pads. Always lucky, thought Terry.
Alex had asked for Terry’s pad a few moments prior so that he could, as he put it, find the way home. There had been a taste of disdain in the words, but Terry was glad to hear them nonetheless. After their last conversation, Terry didn’t know what to think of Alex. He was glad to finally see him contributing, but the sour look in his eyes was unsettling.
Mei grabbed Terry’s arm, pulling herself to her feet. “I think I got it.”
“How’s it work?” asked John.
“I took care of everything. All we have to do is clear the building, type and send the command, and we’re done. John’s pad does all the real work.”
“Yeah, it does,” said John, smirking.
“Once we send the command,” she continued, “the second pad relays it to the console here, beginning the shutdown. It should only take a few seconds.”
“Then, the boom happens,” said John.
“Hopefully not,” said Terry. “If we’re lucky, it’ll shut down nice and quiet.” He looked around at everyone. “We ready, then?”
“Back the way we came,” said Mei. She started walking.
“Hang on,” said Alex. He was looking at the pad. “There’s a better way. If we take the catwalks, we can bypass a few floors. There’s a staircase below that’ll take us straight to the ground floor. Should be faster.”
“Good idea,” said Terry.
“I don’t know,” said Mei. “It could be obstructed or dangerous.”
“I’m telling you, this way’s faster. It’ll save us half an hour.”
“But if we get down there and have to come back, we’ll waste even more time,” she said. “Terry?”
Terry looked at John, who shrugged.
“Fine,” said Alex. “That’s what I get for trying to help.” He looked almost defeated.
Terry paused before answering. He wasn’t sure what to make of Alex. Half the time it felt like all he wanted was an argument, a reason to divide people. Wasn’t it the whole point of their talk from earlier, when he urged Terry to keep the machine running and to leave this awful place? He seemed so determined about it, so insistent he was right. Then there was the fact he never once offered to help them along the way, always chastising or mocking their decisions and opinions. Why help now? Had Terry’s words actually gotten through to him? Did he somehow reach the part of Alex that cared about others? Or was he simply creating conflict now, the same as he always had, trying to feed whatever part of himself enjoyed the misery of others? No, of course not. For all his faults, Alex usually took the direct approach. Maybe his offer to help was genuine. Anything was possible.
“Okay, Alex,” said Terry finally. “It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it. Let’s do it.”
Alex shot a crooked grin at Mei. She turned and rolled her eyes. “We take the catwalks,” Alex said, pointing below. “There’s a hatc
h about halfway down. Leads to the emergency exit on the east side of the building.”
“If it was faster, why’d we take the other way?” asked John.
“Because the emergency doors only open from the inside,” said Alex.
“We also had to get the lights on,” said Mei.
John nodded. “Totally worth it.”
They started to leave, but Terry stayed a moment longer. He looked again at the anomaly in the glass tank, at the miracle with no name, and suddenly found he didn’t want to leave. It looked so gentle, hovering behind the glass. Hardly the stuff of nightmares.
A part of him, buried beneath the responsibility and guilt, wanted to leave and never look back, run far away and forget about fixing the world. It would be so easy, exactly as Alex had said. He wouldn’t have to give up his strength.
Then, he thought about the city, back to his mother and sister and Mr. Nuber and all the rest. They deserved more than a hole in the dirt. More than a cage of a life. They deserved blue skies and open country. They deserved to be human again.
If he could give it to them, maybe the cost didn’t matter.
*******
Stepping off the ladder and onto another catwalk, Terry offered his hand to John. “Watch your step.”
John chuckled. “Watch your face. I got this.” He jumped off the ladder, but stumbled, catching himself on the railing.
Mei giggled. She was following behind. “Unlike the ballerina over there, I’ll welcome the help, Terry.”
“How long to this hatch?” asked John, changing the subject.
“Pretty close,” said Alex, who was right behind Mei. “It’s at the end of this little stretch here, down another flight. Pretty easy.”
He was right. The path led them directly to the hatch. It didn’t open when they pulled, so Terry and John put their strength together. Still, it didn’t budge. Mei pushed them aside and plugged in her pad to a nearby terminal. After a short moment, it opened, warm air oozing out. “Great,” said John. “Another hotbox.”
“Worried about your hair?” teased Mei.
“It’s more about how all this humidity is making us sweat, which makes us thirsty. If you haven’t noticed, we’ve only got so much water.”
“One thing at a time,” said Terry.
The hatch led directly into a crawl space, which took them to a metal rafter overlooking the stairwell. It was a long drop to the top of the stairs—a dozen feet, at least. Beyond that, it was nine floors to the bottom.
“How do we get down?” asked John.
“Here,” said Alex, sidestepping to a little black box on the the wall. He snapped it open. “This drops the ladder.”
The grate shuddered, and the ladder slid, clicking into place once it met the top of the stairs.
“How’d you know how to do that?” asked John.
“It’s Ortego tech,” said Mei. “The same as back home. Alex, did you figure it out when you left?”
“Sure. Now, hurry up and go down.”
She did and John followed. Alex looked at Terry. “After you.”
Terry paused. “Thanks.”
He gripped the bar and started moving. He watched Alex move away from the ledge, probably for his pack. Then, as he neared the bottom, he saw John raise a hand to help him. He took it, laughing. “So it’s okay for you to help me, but not the other way around. I see how it is.”
“Yep.”
Mei was sitting on the uppermost stair, rummaging through her pack.
“Forget something?” Terry asked.
“No, of course not,” she muttered, though her tone said otherwise. Then she whispered, “Dammit.”
John went to her. “You okay?”
“I can’t find my pad.”
“But you had it like two minutes ago,” said Terry.
“I know,” she said.
“You used it to open the hatch,” said John.
“I know,” she repeated.
“It couldn’t have gone too far,” Terry assured her. “Look around. We’ll go back up if we have to.”
“It’s not down here,” she said. “I looked while you were climbing.” She waved her arm around. “There’s nothing here, not even a pile of trash to look through.”
“You sure you didn’t drop it?” asked John, motioning to the edge of the stairs.
Mei opened her mouth, but Terry answered instead. “We would’ve heard the crash,” he said. “Come on, we’d better check the hatch.”
“Ask Alex,” said John. “He’s still up there.”
Terry looked around, surprised Alex wasn’t with them yet. Sure enough, he still hadn’t come down. What was taking him so long? “Alex,” called Terry. “Alex, you there?”
No answer.
“Hey, Alex!” yelled Mei. “You see my pad anywhere?”
Still nothing.
“What’s he doing? Think maybe he heard us talking about it and went to check?” asked John.
“Could be,” said Terry.
They waited a few minutes, but nothing happened.
“Maybe we should go back,” said Mei, hesitantly.
Clank!
Terry jumped at the sound. “What the hell was that?”
“Oh, no,” said Mei, frantically. “It sounded like the hatch.”
“Alex must have shut it,” said John, gripping the ladder. He started to climb. “Hang on while I check.” He scurried up the bars, pulled himself over the edge, and cursed loudly. “It won’t open!” he yelled.
“Do you think it was an accident?” asked Mei.
John banged on the hatch, screaming for Alex to open it.
Silence.
John poked his head over the side of the platform. “He’s not answering.”
Mei and John both looked at Terry, waiting. He didn’t know what to do. Why would Alex lock himself inside? What was going through his head?
Then Terry remembered the look on Alex’s face when he had tried to talk to him about the machine—a passionate plea at first, then indifference, a look of acceptance. At first, Terry thought his words had reached him. Maybe he finally understood. But he had only played the part, put a lie on his face and said the words Terry wanted to hear.
“He’s trying to stop us,” Terry said. “He has been since the start.”
“Stop us?” asked John. “You mean the plan?”
Terry nodded and looked at Mei. “Your pad. I’m betting he took it.”
“But why?” cried Mei. “What the hell is wrong with him? Doesn’t he understand what’s at stake?”
“He understands plenty,” said Terry. “We’re trying to fix something he thinks is perfect. He wants the world to stay the way it is. He always has. It’s the reason he ran away in the first place, and it’s the reason that door up there is locked now.”
“What are we going to do?” asked John.
“Stop him,” he said, though he didn’t know how.
Terry and Mei climbed the ladder to the top of the platform. They set their packs down, and Mei unlatched the panel near the hatch to look for a switch. She couldn’t find any.
“Brute force, then,” said John, nudging Terry and stepping back. “Time to get mean.”
“Aren’t you going to help? I can’t do this on my own.”
“Sure you can,” he said.
“Try,” said Mei. “Dig deep, the same way you did before. You can do this.”
Terry sighed. “Okay, but take a step back. I need some room.”
They did.
Terry closed his eyes, breathing harder and faster. He shook his arms, smacking them into the grate below his feet and tried to focus on what was at stake. He felt his adrenaline kick in, and his heartbeat quickened. He opened his eyes.
Terry gripped the door and pulled it hard, straining momentarily before the handle snapped in his hands. For a split second, he thought he failed, but then he saw that the door was open, too, and part of
the wall had been destroyed in the process. He looked down at his hands, at the metal lock, and cast it aside. It fell behind him, cascading off the platform and plummeting down the stairwell, filling the room with thunder as it went. He looked at his hands, then at John and Mei, who were staring at him.
He looked away and closed his eyes again, trying to calm himself. John touched his shoulder and it made him flinch. “You did it,” his friend said. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” said Terry, and it was true. Whatever was happening to him, it was getting easier each time. “Come on,” he said. “We need to hurry.”
*******
When they arrived back at the machine, Alex was nowhere to be found. In his place, the remains of a pad lay shattered on the floor. “Dammit!” screamed Mei. “The rotten bastard. I’ll kill him for this!”
Terry bent over the broken shards of glass and plastic, scanning them. “There’s only one pad here,” he said. “He could still have the other two. We need to find him.”
“Alex!” called John. “Where the hell are you?”
There were three paths leading away from the machine. They had already covered the one to the hatch, so two remained.
“Split up,” said Terry. He didn’t know what else to do. “Mei, go with John and take the other catwalk. I’ll head this way.” He pointed toward the observation deck where they had originally entered from.
They agreed and parted ways. Terry raced through the observation deck and through the connecting hallway. He peered through the rooms as he passed them, his heart pounding and his blood racing. But as he searched, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Alex had already gone, run out and far away. How would Terry know? He couldn’t see through walls.
Then a thought occurred to him, suddenly, and he came to a dead stop.
He closed his eyes, prepared his mind. In an instant, the world began to speak, and he listened.
An orchestra of noise cascaded through Terry as he tried to filter the madness. The walls moaned like a whale singing. The air between his ears blew with the intensity of a maelstrom. A dripping pipe a hundred yards away pounded like a drum.
One-by-one, he put the sounds to bed. All the drips and drops and creaks and whirls—one at a time, he let them fade, until at last it was quiet again, and all the music had gone. He waited, unwavering, for the sound that brought the answer.