The Split

by Hannah Hopkins

  He had only been waiting a few seconds when the glass elevator slid into position and released its passengers, among them an excited looking Will, who bounced over to Finley with great enthusiasm, smiling from ear to ear.

  "Hey mate! You made it!" he greeted him.

  "I did," Finley replied."What's the plan then? Are we going straight up to your apartment?"

  "Well..." Will began, an uncontrollable glint in his eye. "It turns out the Captain isn’t going back to work until tomorrow, so we’ve had to put our investigation on hold until then."

  "Which means?" Finley asked.

  "Which means we've got a whole day to kill," Will explained, "and I thought we could have some fun doing it."

  He pulled a pair of golden tickets from his pocket, each emblazoned with a red rocket in the top right-hand corner.

  "Are those...?" Finley trailed off in disbelief.

  "Rocket Racing tickets!" Will confirmed. "I know you've never been before, so I thought I’d take you."

  "Wow, thanks Will," Finley beamed with gratitude, taking one of the tickets and placing it carefully in his pocket, as though handling a precious jewel.

  "It’s no problem," Will shrugged. "My mum gets me tickets every year for Hallowed Eve. I used to take Spencer but I'm sure you'll be much better company. Now come on or we'll miss the train!"

  He led him away from the shops towards a gleaming set of gates, manned by a guard in smart, black uniform. He was standing with intimidating stillness, his expression unsettlingly vacant, and Finley tried his best not to look him in the eye. His brother, Justin, had often told him tales of how the human services had been taken over by robots on Earth, until they had rebelled and started one of the many Wars. As the guard checked their tickets, screwing his nose up as though trying to escape an unpleasant smell, Finley wondered whether a killer robot might have been friendlier.

  They walked through the gates onto a small platform where a long, open-topped train was stationed waiting to ferry them to the Rocket Racing stadium. Will guided the pair of them over to the first carriage, sitting down in the front seats with the promise that they would have the best view. Finley sat beside him, waiting with apprehension and only half-listening to as Will explained in excessive detail about each Rocket Racer competing that day and their individual statistics.

  Once the train had reached capacity, the Guard pressed a button on his control pad and the carriage gave a gentle lurch, sliding forwards on magnetic tracks towards a round, metal door, which opened as they approached it. Passing through the doorway, they entered an elongated tunnel with transparent walls, giving the impression that they were floating unaided through Space. Finley inhaled with amazement as they glided through the blanket of stars surrounding them. He could see the Rocket Racing stadium a few miles ahead, sealed inside its protective dome that the tunnel seemed to feed into directly. When they had reached the halfway point, Finley turned around, craning his neck to get a good view of the Mayfly. He had never seen it from the outside before and was awestruck by the ship’s sheer magnitude. The colossal grey mass spread across his entire vision as he tried to take in its whole appearance, which proved to be impossible. The word “Mayfly” was adorned on the ship’s side, each individual letter at least two-hundred feet tall. Captivated by the view, it took him a moment to realise that Will had been talking to him for several minutes and he hastily tuned in to listen.

  “I can’t wait to go back, though,” Will mused.

  “To where?” Finley asked.

  “To the school,” Will replied with confusion.

  “Oh, right, yeah, sorry,” Finley apologised for not paying attention.

  “It’s probably the most fun I’ve ever had in my life,” Will continued. “You know, terrifying alien monsters aside.”

  “Yeah, that is a slight drawback,” Finley laughed. “Still it could be worse. We almost had to have one-on-one counselling with Miss Fortem.”

  They both shuddered.

  “That was a lucky escape,” Will reflected.

  “I seem to be good at those,” Finley smiled.

  Ten minutes later, they arrived at the stadium, riding an escalator up from the platform to the expansive seating area above. They found their seats and took them, Will pointing with excitement to a gigantic screen that was fixed along the stadium walls, currently displaying a countdown to the race. In the centre of the circular rows of seating was a vast, empty space where Finley assumed the main event would take place. With only five minutes to go, Will accessed the interactive refreshments menu imbedded in the armrest of their chairs and ordered them both fizzy drinks and a hot dog, promptly brought over to them by a glum steward, who Finley was sure he recognised from Floor Seven.

  He was halfway through eating what must have been the best hot dog he’d ever tasted, when a loud announcement echoed over their heads, causing all the spectators to leap to their feet and begin cheering raucously.

  “Ladies and gentleman, please rise and show your support as we introduce today’s Rocket Racers!” the detached male voice shouted with animation.

  Several hidden doors in the stadium centre slid open and the Rocket Racers flew out, parading around the arena in their spacecrafts and waving to their fans behind their heavy, protective gear.

  “Let’s hear a round of applause for our contenders; Amelia Monteiro, Zed Sinn, Symon Schoestein, Layla Atwater and Pablo Pianthus!” the announcer boomed.

  Will clapped his hands together as hard as he could muster and whistled as the racers swept past them, pointing to one of the men in a glossy, red rocket with glee.

  “That’s Pablo Pianthus! He’s the best by miles,” he yelled over the crowd.

  After the procession, the rockets and their riders lined up together in mid-air, next to a starting line that had been painted into the arena wall.

  “On your marks, get set, go!”

  The rockets zoomed into life, their engines thundering as they whizzed in circuits around the arena at breakneck speed. Finley’s eyes could barely make sense of the blur of colours that rushed before him, his hair and clothes blowing backwards with the force of the speed as the racers zoomed past.

  “How many laps are there?” he shouted to Will.

  “Forty!” Will yelled back.

  With each passing lap, Finley grew more exhilarated and by the time the race had reached its halfway point, he had found himself whooping and hollering along with the other spectators. As the event came to an end, he kept his eyes glued to the big screen, desperate to see who would come first. He watched, enthralled, as Pablo Pianthus crossed the finishing line, the stadium erupting into a gargantuan cheer as he was pronounced the winner.

  “That was amazing!” Finley shouted, his cheeks flushed with delight.

  “I knew Pablo would win!” Will rejoiced, continuing to clap his hands together with fury as a podium rose from the ground and the top three contenders stepped on to claim their prizes.

  When Pablo Pianthus’ name was announced, he removed his helmet, revealing a thick mane of chestnut, brown hair that swung around his shoulders. He was much older than Finley had expected, and far more good looking, his tanned skin and carved features making him the ideal poster boy for the Rocket Racing sport.

  “Thank you!” he called to his fans in a thick accent. “Thank you so much!”

  When the race was over, the two boys left the stadium, chattering with elation about the event for the entire duration of their journey back to the Mayfly.

  “Did you see it when he overtook Amelia Monteiro?” Will asked Finley, without giving him a chance to reply. “Or when he made that impossibly tight corner! I thought for definite he was going to lose control.”

  “What about when he looped underneath Zed in the final lap?” Finley replied. “That was incredible!”

  “There’s no one else like him,” Will continued as they disembarked the train and returned to the lobby. “He’s a genius. You can count how many times he’s ever lost a race
on one hand.”

  They walked to the lifts and got inside, Will pressing buttons on a screen built into the glass before standing back and clasping on to one of the rails.

  “You might want to brace yourself,” he warned Finley.

  “For what?”

  Before Will could answer, the lift gave a stomach-wrenching lurch and they began hurtling towards the ceiling at an impossible speed, Finley barely managing to keep his balance as they shot all the way to Floor One in less than a minute.

  “What just happened?” he asked, his head spinning in bewilderment.

  “We’re here,” Will announced.

  His dizziness subsiding, he followed Will across an impressive atrium, glancing up at an ostentatiously large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Just before they reached Will’s apartment, they passed by a set of double doors marked with the number “1”. Finley’s heart jolted as he realised that it must be where Lois and her father lived. He had never dreamed he’d be so close to the Captain’s apartment, nor did he expect to feel such a rush of adrenaline at the thought of being near to Lois. Will pressed a finger to a touch sensor next to the doors marked “3”, a clicking noise giving him the approval to enter. He grabbed the crystal doorknobs and twisted them, opening the doors in one synchronised motion.

  Finley was stunned by the sight of the lavish apartment as they entered it. It was huge, the living room alone at least four times the size of Finley’s. The furniture was colour co-ordinated and positioned perfectly, with not a single thing out of place. There was no clutter, no piles of washing on the sofa, no shoes strewn about the floor. The kitchen surfaces were gleaming, the dining table polished to a dazzling shine. A tall, dark-haired man wearing a white cotton shirt and black trousers was stood dusting by a large window that was flooding the whole apartment with soft UV light. As Finley gazed about himself with awe, one of the doors leading from the living room opened and Will’s mother rushed in, attaching a bracelet to her wrist with her teeth as she balanced her Personal Device to her ear.

  “Oh, let me call you back,” she said when she saw the boys, hanging up and placing her Personal Device back onto its wrist strap.

  “Hi boys,” she smiled. Finley had never seen a mother like her. She was young and made-up, dressed like a businesswoman in fashionable, smart clothing. Her hair was shiny and sleek, like the models Finley saw in shampoo adverts, and her nails were long and painted. She made his own mother look like a grandma in comparison.

  “Hi, Mum,” said Will. “I didn’t expect you to be home.”

  “I’m just rushing out darling, I’ve got another client,” she replied, grabbing her handbag from a coat stand near the door.

  “How was the race?” she asked, pausing for a minute to speak to them.

  “It was good,” Will nodded. “Pablo won again.”

  “Glad you had a good time,” she smiled as she rooted through her bag, checking she had everything she needed, “Derek’s made a lasagne for dinner. It’s in the fridge when you’re ready for it. Have fun darling. Oh, and make yourself at home Finley.”

  “Thank you, Ms. James, I will,” Finley nodded. With a quick ruffle of Will’s hair, she was out the door, leaving the smell of expensive perfume lingering behind her.

  “You hungry?” Will asked, strolling over to the large fridge in the kitchen. Finley nodded and followed him in.

  “Hello, I-Fridge,” Will said and for a moment Finley had thought he had lost his mind.

  “Hello, Mr. James, what can I do for you today?” the fridge replied.

  “Reheat the lasagne please,” Will answered.

  “Yes, Mr. James, certainly,” the fridge said.

  “Your fridge talks?!” Finley asked. “And re-heats things?”

  “Yeah, my mum’s friends with Jarvis Holt, the guy who owns I-Tech, so we get all the best stuff,” Will shrugged.

  “Your mother forgot to tell you that your favourite soft drink is in the cupboard,” the man with the duster interjected. “She got it especially for you so try to seem grateful. I know that might be difficult.”

  “Okay,” Will replied.

  “This is Derek by the way,” he added for Finley’s benefit. “He’s the family ‘assistant’. Derek this is my friend Finley.”

  “Hi,” Finley waved awkwardly.

  “A pleasure, I’m sure,” Derek replied, his voice dripping with contempt.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Finley whispered to Will.

  “Don’t ask,” Will sighed.

  The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. Will was amazed that Finley had never seen most of the gadgets in the apartment before and wanted to show off his favourites. As a result, they ended up watching a horror film, using the 4-D system hooked up to Will’s television. It was an experience unlike anything Finley had ever had before, with holographic ghosts popping up around the living room and the sound of wolves howling emitting from all directions. There was even a feature that sprayed the two of them in the face with water, supposed to represent the splattering of blood from an unfortunate character’s gruesome death. After the film, they went to Will’s room and played Earth Wars until it was time to sleep, their last moments of consciousness spent chatting keenly about their impending investigation.

  The following morning, they woke early, dressing, eating breakfast and heading out as quickly as they could. With a rushed explanation to Will’s mother about going to do homework, they dashed into the atrium, making it to Lois’ apartment in ten seconds flat. Will pounded on the door and waited, the two of them twitching with anticipation as they strained their ears to listen for the sound of movement with in. The door swung open, causing Will and Finley to jump unpleasantly as an old, haggard, woman with a broad frame and cold, cruel eyes came to greet them.

  “You’re not Lois,” Finley gawked, the words leaving his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

  “Well observed,” the woman sneered.

  “Hello, Ms. Sommers,” Will greeted her. “Finley, this is Lois’ grandmother,” he explained.

  “Oh, lovely to meet you,” Finley gushed.

  “Lois,” the woman crowed into the apartment behind her shoulder. “Some rather unfortunate boys are at the door asking for you.”

  “Coming, Grandma,” they heard Lois call from somewhere behind her grandmother’s wide figure.

  “Does your father know about this?” her Grandma snapped back, frowning at Will and Finley with as much disapproval as she could muster.

  “Yes, he does, they’re here to do a homework project for school,” Lois replied from inside.

  “Hmph,” her grandmother sniffed but said no more. With a final look of loathing and disgust, she pushed past Will and Finley, hobbling with the aid of a walking stick to the set of double doors marked with the number “2”, which she slammed behind her vehemently as she went inside.

  “Nice woman,” Finley joked. Will snorted loudly.

  With her grandmother out the way, Lois, Emily and the apartment beyond became visible to the boys. Finley had been expecting to see extravagance, but the scale of grandeur was beyond anything he could have dreamed. The living room was the size of Finley’s entire home and was filled with the most luxurious furnishings he had ever seen. There were soft, cream sofas, large enough to seat at least ten people apiece, centred around a gleaming, cut-glass coffee table, topped with golden and bronze statues of eagles that stood guard on every corner. There was a white, quartz fireplace with a paper thin tv screen fitted into the wall above it, the mantelpiece embellished with real gold candlesticks and vases that certainly would have cost more credits than Finley’s father earnt in a year. Most wondrous to Finley, though, was the grand piano that stood majestically at the top of some carpeted steps, resting proudly on four silver lions that had been carved into its feet.

  “Wow,” was all Finley could say.

  “I know,” said Emily. “Wait until you see the bathrooms!”

  “Come in then you two, don’t ha
ve just stand there,” Lois laughed, beckoning them into the apartment.

  “Sorry, I think Finley’s a bit mesmerised,” Will grinned as they stepped inside.

  “It is an amazing apartment, Lois,” Finley nodded.

  “Never mind that,” Lois said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s not waste any time. I told my dad we have to revise for our Alien Studies exam so he’d leave his office open and give us access to his database, otherwise we would have needed his fingerprints to get in.”

  “Good thinking,” Finley smiled, “and not a lie either. Maybe we could actually do some revision after we’ve used the database for our plan.”

  “If this alien creature is known to humans, it’ll be on there,” Lois continued. “Along with everything else that’s known about it.”

  “It’s important we find out whatever we can, no matter how scary the information is,” Will urged them.

  “Let’s just hope it turns out the thing is harmless,” Finley said. “Although if its appearance is anything to go by, I’m not holding my breath.”

  “This way then,” Lois pointed and the three of them followed her out of the room. She led them down a short hallway, decorated with several unnerving paintings that featured images of the dying Earth. They reached a large, crimson door that had been left ajar and walked into the Captain’s office, Lois sitting down at a grand, pewter desk and pressing a concealed button underneath it. A moment later, a wide computer screen appeared from a hidden compartment in the wall, an accompanying keyboard springing up from nowhere. Lois began typing rapidly, indiscernible images and text flashing up on the screen.

  “Here we go,” Lois said. “I’ve found the alien files.”

  “So, where do we start?” Finley asked.

  “There’s a video file here, it seems to be the only one,” she observed, pressing the “enter” key so that the clip started playing. Grainy images of Earth appeared on screen, featuring narration from a loud, male voice.