"Hi, Finley!" she waved in the recording, beaming into the camera. Her hair was tied in two bunches by tartan ribbons, and she was wearing a brushed cotton dress which, judging by its condition, was brand new. Perhaps the only thing Finley enjoyed about his family's newly elevated status was watching Felicity enjoy all the things she had envied the privileged girls for having all of her life. If anyone deserved to be spoiled, Finley thought to himself, it was her.
"I hope you're having fun at school!" Felicity continued, her voice full of happiness. "I started my tutoring today so that when I'm big enough I can come and study at the Space Academy too!"
Her face lit up at the thought and Finley laughed to himself at her enthusiasm. It gladdened his heart to imagine the joy of his little sister attending the Academy with him, the thought of her presence dispelling all doubts that had been forming in his mind over whether he ought to remain at the school under such scrutiny.
"Dad had the day off yesterday,” Felicity continued. “He took me to the Multiplex in the lobby and then to the famous Italian restaurant that all the elite citizens go to! It was so much fun, and he said we can go again when he has another day off. His work gave him tickets to a Rocket Racing game as well, and he said I can go and bring a friend. I'm going to ask Polly from Floor Seven because she's never been to anything like that before. Anyway, I've got to go now, Justin's made us dinner and I'm already keeping him waiting. Jess and I keep telling him to use the robot butler thing we got sent, but he refuses. See you soon for the holidays!"
She blew a kiss to the camera and ended the recording. Finley felt a desperate sadness engulf him as he stared at the blank screen. He longed for the comfort of home, for his mother's soothing voice and wisdom. He missed his father, and his rugged salt-of-the-earth attitude, telling him to buckle down and get on with it. He even missed Justin's cutting re-marks, scathing him for his associations with the upper class. For the hundredth time since his family had been moved to Floor Two, he found himself wishing he could turn back time, returning to the peaceful days before he had become an amateur hero.
Listening to Felicity talk about going out with their father brought a fond memory into his mind, and he indulged himself in it, keeping the panic that was beginning to rise in his throat at bay. He had only been eight years old, but he still remembered the day as clearly as if it were yesterday. His father, back then still working in the tunnels, had been promised a generous bonus if he met certain targets set by the Governors, which he had done so with ease. Instead of the lump of credits he had been expecting, he was instead presented with tickets to a Gravity Ball game taking place in the small stadium attached to the Mayfly’s lobby. He had asked Justin and Jessica if they wanted to go first, but they had both refused, determining that Gravity Ball was 'stupid' and that they had better things to do with their time. As a result, Finley was chosen as the lucky recipient of the spare ticket, and he went along with his father, exhilaration consuming him from head to toe as they travelled to the lobby and entered the high-end section filled with the best shops and entertainment.
Upon their arrival at the stadium's entrance, they were extensively searched by several Guards, who repetitively demanded that his father explain where he got the tickets from, accusing him of having stolen them. He insisted that he had been given them at work, but the Guards had refused to accept his story, forcing the two of them to wait outside while they contacted the Governor’s Office.
It had taken so long for them to confirm that the tickets were a legitimate gift, that Finley and his father ended up missing the start of the game, arriving at their seats just in time for the anti-gravity part of the match. The people either side of them shifted uncomfortably when they sat down, eyeing them up with suspicion and clasping their belongings tightly to their chests. A few remarks were made about the state of their clothing, but Finley didn't listen. He felt honoured to be sat in the front row and pressed his face and hands up against the glass that separated the pitch from the spectators, watching with awe as the players floated through the air before him, navigating the large ball they were playing with into giant hoops on either side of the pitch.
The anti-gravity portion of the game ended, and the players came back down onto the sponge floor with a gentle thud. As soon as they had found their feet, a frenzy broke out, with opposing teams pushing, shoving, kicking and punching in desperation to gain possession of the ball. There was no way to know when the gravity would give out again, and the players had to make the best of their opportunity to score whilst on the ground. Finley was horrified by this part of the match, watching the men and women who had been so graceful and elegant just seconds before turn into monsters before his eyes. Despite the violent outburst, he remained enrapt in the game, counting the seconds until the gravity on the pitch would disappear and turn the players into floating artists, masterful in their talent of passing the ball in slow motion, their bodies poised like ballerinas as they spun and leapt through the air.
When the match was over, Finley’s father had taken him down to Lulu's, a gigantic toy shop in the lobby, where he proceeded to spend the remainder of his week's wages on a miniature robot for Finley, warning him not to tell his brother and sisters. Finley promised not to show them and had stowed the robot underneath his jumper, keeping it concealed all the way home until he finally reached the room he shared with Justin, where he stashed his new toy under the bed, only daring to look at it when he was certain that everyone else was sleeping.
Looking around his spacious bedroom at the Academy, Finley thought about how many miniature robots his father would be able to afford on his current wage. The small toy that had provided one little boy with so much happiness suddenly seemed to have less value, as Finley began to picture it as one of many identical items on a shelf, waiting to be purchased and discarded a few days later when a new and shinier plaything became available.
It bothered Finley that he couldn’t think what had happened to the robot, and he resolved to look for it when he returned home for the holidays. With a sigh, he walked over once again to the window, his eyes hurting from having stared at the blank screen on his desk, and began waiting for his mind to become weary enough for sleep.
Something in the grounds caught his eye, and he peered through the darkness to make out two shapes that were moving somewhere below. At first, he wondered if it were Will, Emily or Lois, but the figures seemed too tall to represent those of his fourteen-year-old friends. He thought perhaps that they might be security bots, but the way they moved was far too fluid for them to be machinery, and in any case, he hadn't seen a robot patrolling the area for at least twenty minutes.
The figures walked across the grounds, talking intently to each other as they hurried to move into cover. Striding forward, they momentarily passed under one of the lights that lit the black school grounds, revealing their true appearance in sharp focus. Finley drew his breath in as he noted the men’s attire, each one wearing a red cloak that dragged across the floor, their hoods drawn over their faces to cover their identities. It was the same clothing he had seen worn by the man in the mask who had made the broadcast in the lobby. The cloak was the mark of the Society of the Enlightened, and they were here at the school.
Finley turned away, shutting his eyes tightly and willing for his heart to stop racing. He refused to become sucked into another mystery and would not begin down a path he knew would only end in danger and misery. He counted to ten in his head, a technique he had learnt to use in moments of terror and calmed himself down. The men in red didn’t matter, he told himself, if nobody knew they existed.
He rushed over to his bed and clambered under the covers, burrowing his head beneath the sheets as he prayed for sleep to take him away, making the firm and resolute promise to himself that no one would ever know what he had seen through the window.
10.
Secrets In The Tunnels
Thomas Campbell frowned at the coffee machine, scowling as he wondered why no one in a
building full of people with unlimited credits had bothered to invest in better refreshment provisions. He had hoped that a steaming, hot dose of caffeine would make his morning at work more bearable, but the machine was taking so long to provide his drink that it would soon be time for him to return to the board room, where he would inevitably be discussing the same issues he had listened to the other Governors argue over all day. He had sat silently, marvelling at the imaginative ways in which they managed to come up with a colourful variety of excuses, all conveniently preventing them from spending any credits on the Mayfly’s lower-class citizens.
On his very first day, he had sat at the long, glass table and watched as the men and women around him argued over whether to invest their weekly budget into the Education Services, or into carrying out fancy renovations in the lobby. He had cleared his throat, instantly commanding the attention of everyone in the room, who stared at him as though he had committed a terrible crime by daring to make his presence known to those who were so clearly above him.
“Forgive me, but don’t we have unlimited funds?” he asked, causing a few of the Governors to raise their eyebrows.
“Yes, we do,” Matthew Pannell, the Governor of Education replied. “What’s your point?”
“Well… if we don’t have a limit on what we can give, then why don’t we just give everyone everything?” Thomas suggested. There was a quick pause before the entire room erupted into raucous laughter, unable to contain themselves at the perceived stupidity of the maintenance man from Floor Seven.
“We can’t just let everyone have everything!” Matthew had exclaimed. “What kind of madness would that be. Besides, if we resolved all of the problems on the ship, then none of us would have a job.”
“But our jobs wouldn’t be needed,” Thomas pointed out. “They aren’t needed anyway. All of this… it’s for show. The Mayfly is a completely self-sufficient spacecraft. Credits are just a concept we’ve created. They don’t physically exist. None of this budgeting and deciding who gets what needs to happen. There are enough resources for everyone on board. We should spread them evenly and be done with all this nonsense.”
“I would advise, Mr. Campbell, that you remember how and why you are here,” Matthew said vehemently. “You’d do better just to sit, listen, and be grateful that you’ve been allowed to sit at the table with the big boys. Now, where were we?”
The meeting had set the precedent for Thomas’ entire experience as a Governor, and he had slowly lost the will to fight against the system of corruption he had somehow found himself incorporated into.
His drink finally appeared from the depths of the machine, and he took it gratefully, savouring the taste of the expensive coffee beans which he still found to be a novelty. Walking down the corridor begrudgingly, he tried to keep his pace as slow as he possibly could without drawing attention to himself, treasuring the last moments before he would have to return to work. Two of his colleagues passed him on their way out of the meeting room, regarding him with the same look of curiosity and disdain that had become customary in the months since he had begun his new position.
“That’s him,” one man said to the other, not caring to check whether or not they were within Thomas’ earshot.
“The one from Floor Seven?” his friend asked.
“Yes, he’s a complete charity case,” the first man continued. “It’s an embarrassment that he’s allowed to be here. The only reason he’s made anything of himself is because of his son, Finley. The whole family’s wormed their way up on the back of his heroics. Did you know the mother still works as a maid? Even though they live on Floor Two. Have you ever heard of such an atrocity?”
“Well, you know what they say,” the friend chuckled. “You can take the person out of poverty, but you can’t take poverty out of the person. It’s a shame Allance didn’t finish the boy off. One less rat to waste the air on our ship.”
The two of them suppressed their laughter as they continued down the hallway, stealing amused glances at Thomas from over their shoulders. A burst of anger rose inside of his chest as he grasped the handle of his coffee cup so tightly that his hand reddened with the force of his grip. In a moment of madness, he allowed his fury to consume him, turning on the spot and hurtling the coffee cup in the men’s direction, who continued laughing merrily, oblivious to the boiling hot liquid soaring towards them. The moment the scolding coffee touched their skin, they screamed, pulling their jackets off and using them to wipe their burning eyes, the smug smiles on their faces replaced by expressions of pain.
Realising what he had done, Thomas began to panic. Without hesitation, he ran from the building as fast as he could, entering the West Wing of the Mayfly and running down the marble hallways until he reached the lift. His heart in his mouth, he pressed the buttons on the lift’s screen without paying attention, subconsciously selecting the basement as his destination and tapping in the code, which he had memorised as well as his own name.
The lift hurtled downwards and Thomas’ terror began to decrease as he descended. He knew there would be serious consequences for his actions, but he was prepared to face them. In fact, he rather welcomed them, especially if his punishment meant being sent back down to Floor Seven, where life made sense to him. At the very least he hoped he would lose his position as Governor, putting an end to the torment he had suffered since taking up the obligatory role.
Upon arriving in the tunnels, Thomas was overwhelmed by the familiarity of the place that had served as a second home to him for many years. He let his feet guide him through the labyrinth, treading the path he had walked every day for thirteen years. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew by instinct that the deeper he went, the calmer he would become. He inhaled the damp, musty aroma, revelling in the comfort of the darkness.
Nearing the heart of the maze, Thomas stopped dead, the sound of nearby voices sending a chill down his spine. In all the time he had worked in the tunnels, he had never once encountered another person inside them. Unsure how to react, he paused to listen, hardly daring to breathe as he hid in the shadows, too afraid to turn back in case he drew attention to himself.
“We might have to get somebody on the inside to do it,” he heard a man’s voice say. “Sending members out there is risky, especially with all the new security. Our members nearly got caught in the grounds the other night. Luckily, they disabled the motion sensory cameras before they were detected.”
“Is it really the only way?” another male voice said. “Will nothing else work?”
“There’s no other piece of technology like it. It’s the only way we’re going to be able to stop the Captain’s A.I forces when the time comes,” the first man replied.
“Well, why don’t we have one of our members just take it?” a female voice interjected. “Surely drawing attention to ourselves doesn’t matter if we’ll be achieving our final objective straight afterwards.”
“Mayheim knows the power of what he’s created. He has the device hidden. We don’t know if he’s hiding it at the school, or here on the Mayfly. We can’t act until we have the exact location. In the meantime, we’ll continue watching him,” the first man replied.
“Is there anything else I can do to help the mission?” the female voice asked eagerly.
“Nothing for now,” the first man answered. “Continue with the weekly bulletin. Keep our followers strong and hopeful. We are so close to achieving all that we have dreamed. The most important thing is that people stand with us when we choose to rise.”
“But, there must be something else,” the female voice argued. “Send me to the Academy. I’ll get the whereabouts of the device out of that crazy, old man.”
“I’ve told you before, Wendy, we do not use torture or violence to accomplish our goals. We will not stoop to the low levels of those we are trying to oppose,” the first man shot back. At the mention of the name “Wendy”, Thomas realised with a jolt that he was listening to Wendy Weaver, the highly esteemed anchor fr
om the News Station.
“Let me do it,” Wendy pleaded. “The longer we take to usurp power, the more suffering there will be. Innocent people are dying. You’re the one who told us that! The Captain and his associates are framing passengers from the lower floors as being Vacuous when there’s no evidence to support it. They can’t find the real intruders, so they’re doing all they can to pretend they can provide sufficient leadership, at the cost of people’s lives. It’s disgusting. Do you know how much I shudder every time I have to read another story about an alien being thrown from the ship? It’s barbaric. And if barbarism is the only thing they understand, then perhaps we should show them it in return.”
“I understand your frustration. I am fully aware of the pressing need to act. However, I will not bend on this. We will get as many members as we can on the Mayheim case without causing suspicion. We will not harm anyone in the process. That is my final word,” the first man replied, ending the conversation abruptly.
The sound of approaching footsteps told Thomas that it was time to go, and he ran through one of the dozens of shortcuts he had memorised, cutting through the tunnels and back into the lift before he could be discovered. He set his destination to Floor Two, a lump growing in his throat as he began to ascend. After what he had overheard, his fear of being reprimanded by the authorities for the coffee incident had increased substantially. He swallowed hard, hoping the Captain wouldn’t punish him by framing him as a Vacuous, thus washing his hands of the Campbell family and their awkward rise to prominence.
When the lift docked, Thomas made his way swiftly down the hallway and into his apartment, half expecting to be intercepted by a robot Guard on his way to the door. As he reached his apartment safely, he breathed a sigh of relief, which quickly turned to panic when he saw who was present in his home. None other than the Captain himself was stood in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter, his white hat placed neatly in front of him. His facial expression was taut with stress, and he ran his hands through his dark, brown hair, preparing himself for the upcoming conversation. When he noticed Thomas’ arrival, he readjusted his position with haste, standing tall with his arms folded behind his back in a military stance, which Thomas supposed was intended to convey his authority.
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