The Upper Worlds (The Soul Survivor Series Book 1)

by Van Forson

  The Code Type species was evolving, Bibi thought, he always knew it would. One of the main reasons why he had offspring in the first place was to track the evolution process. His own children were variables that he should have been researching more closely, but he had lost sight of his study, and now this.

  “My wife and I, who are pillars of the community, have to hang our heads in shame because of Kid’s silliness, I mean what else - ”

  “She’s hiding out with the Tachion Liberation Movement.” Max’s mouth moved so fast that the speed of the speech startled Bibi into silence.

  Before Max could zip his lips, his logic gripped him.

  “And that’s not all she’s been up to.”

  Bibi leant in closer.

  “Since her time in Underground City, I believe Kid’s been having an ongoing delusional episode.”

  “Underground City?” Bibi exclaimed in disbelief.

  “Yes, we all went there. I have serious doubts about the validity of the experience, but Kid believes we met The Res and he told her that she was the Soul Survivor and about a Prophecy which states that she was put on this earth to save all kind. She has three missions to complete. Kid figured that the first task was to interrupt the broadcast signal at TEN.”

  “When? Where?” Bibi spluttered. He hadn’t been expecting this.

  “Then she left me and went to Commania where she said she completed the second mission. She is trying to evade capture to finish the third.”

  “I don’t believe this. How could I not have realised that my own daughter is a defective Type.”

  Max continued to tell all.

  “We routed TEN’s signal to my aero pad. Kid had the coordinates stored in her memory bank, but she couldn't remember it, so Wain had to enter her mind to retrieve it."

  Bibi held his head in his hands. Why hadn’t he paid more attention to his children? How had he allowed it to come to this?

  Max was now in full swing, “I can write a more detailed account of all nuances so far, like how I rewired your Auto Nan and re-routed the Guardians at TEN and caused them to shut down. But I will need my aero pad to do so. I've saved all of the data on there.”

  Bibi choked. If there had been any chance of saving his daughter’s life from termination it had certainly been lost the minute Max’s logic kicked in.

  Bibi slowly rose to his feet and patted Max on the shoulder. He wished he had never pushed the boy to speak.

  “You’ll go a long way in this system young man.” He looked towards the blacked out glass wall. He couldn’t see out, but he knew that all the White Coats were looking in.

  “Are you happy now?” Bibi said regretfully.

  The congregation of White Coats on the other side of the wall nodded their heads in unison. They had finally gotten the answers to everything they needed to know.

  ***

  Wain sat tentatively on the cold glass seat. He tried to get the story straight in his head before the interrogation. He ran the scenario through both his minds,

  ‘Against his will he was forced to house Kid for two days, she robbed him, fought with Jet, clearly insane. Stole aero bike from Sal, left the Upper Worlds, heading to the wilderness of Freeca.’

  Wain knew Philippe would reiterate the same lines. He only hoped in a different order; he didn’t want it to sound too rehearsed.

  Just then four Guardians stomped into the room followed by Mr Moogs. The robotic guards stood in each corner of the room and faced him, pop con guns poised.

  Wain gulped loudly, but he was used to this kind of threatening behaviour from living in Sub Zero. The Guardians always intimidated people there.

  Mr Moogs sat in front of Wain with a weird smirk on his face. He looked happy, but not friendly.

  The White Coat peered at Wain in silence for a while. Wain’s eyes darted nervously around the room trying to avoid direct contact with the lab-coated man. His presence was so cold it sent a chill up Wain’s spine.

  Mr Moogs revelled in Wain's discomfort and after a long drawn out pause, he spoke in an odd voice that had a tin like quality.

  “So why do you think you are here?”

  “I’m here, Sir, because Kid is a lunatic, she held us hostage with crazy ideas that we were all forced to go along with. She stole an aero bike and is on her way to Freeca. She - ”

  Mr Moogs held up his latex gloved hand to stop Wain from speaking,

  “We know all about Keziah Monrova, caught up in her own fantasy world. The so-called Prophecy is a childish myth, a fairy tale that’s been recycled for centuries. There’s always someone who claims to be the saviour of all kind. When will those of a lower IQ realise that there is no saviour. This is it. We decided their destiny many moons ago. Their miserable little lives are all they have and will ever have. They should fall in line with their genetic disposition and stop believing in delusions of grandeur.”

  Wain's eyes bugged out.

  Mr Moogs smiled smugly.

  “Now that Maxwell has fully informed us of all that has been happening, we’ve sent the rest of your cohorts home with slapped wrists, a penalty fine and the reality that they have been caught up in a silly game. The next time they get bored I’m sure they will find something more patriotic to do, rather than interfere with government signals and venture down to the Underworld.”

  “Oh, well alright then,” Wain said somewhat relieved.

  The Authorities didn’t believe The Prophecy anyway, that was good, the only good thing he thought about Code Types. They were all so arrogant about their superiority they would never believe the concept of something like the Soul Survivor, a being greater than themselves.

  “So am I free to go?” Wain smiled sheepishly, relaxing a little.

  “No.” Mr Moogs answered quickly, before reclining in his chair.

  “Two questions,” Mr Moogs announced holding up two fingers. “Where is Jonsey Kerpowski hiding out?”

  “I - I - I -” Wain stuttered nervously. “I thought you thought - ”

  “Ok, question two," Mr Moogs snapped before Wain could answer.

  “When are the Tachion Liberation planning their next attack on the Upper Worlds?”

  Wain’s eyes opened as wide as saucers. Sweat beads sprung from his temples, which he wiped away frantically with the backs of his hands.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have been watching you for years. We know who you are Wain Levi, a high-ranking officer in the Tachion Liberation Movement. The brains behind the outfit some say.” Mr Moogs said disgustedly.

  “No, I’m not, you have it wrong,” Wain said unsteadily.

  “What we can’t believe is that you walked into this, allowed yourself to be captured so easily, all for a friend. What would your fellow TL lowlifes make of this? Tut, tut, tut.” Mr Moogs laughed mirthlessly.

  “Friendship is the only thing I’ve got yo, and I cherish my friends.”

  Incensed by his backchat, Mr Moog’s rounded on Wain,

  "Where is your leader Jonsey hiding out?” He barked.

  “I won’t tell you!”

  “When is the next TL strike on the Upper Worlds?” Mr Moogs slammed his fist on the desk.

  Wain shook his head, tears in his eyes, committed to the cause till the end, just like his mother had been.

  “I’ll never betray my Tachion brothers and sisters.”

  “On guard!” Mr Moogs instructed.

  The Guardians took aim. Wain clenched his three fists and pushed them proudly high into the air. A sky blue band, the Tachion Liberation secret dress code, adorned each wrist.

  “Tachion Liberation forever!” Wain declared as he closed his eyes, he knew what was coming next.

  “Fire!”

  On command the Guardians blasted controlled gamma rays at Wain. The fuzzing sound from the pop con lazer filled the air, muting his screams of terror. When it ceased, an ear-piercing silence mingled pungently with the scent of a terminated life.

  “Clean this mess up.” Mr
Moogs ordered as he looked over the heap of smoking ashes. “Even the smell of them makes me sick!”

  Wain was gone. And all that was left to honour his fifteen years on the planet were three metallic wristbands.

  Cold hearted,

  Frosty attitude,

  Deemed sub, so you think less of thee.

  Ice cold,

  Zero chill,

  Those with an ego led mentality.

  Fifteen: Sub Zero

  Skye sprinted down a grey cobbled street through the devastated area of downtown Sub Zero. Diverse Tachions flanked her on either side.

  The inhumane living conditions coupled with the current Authoritarian occupation had made an already unbearable situation totally unliveable. No stone had been left unturned in the Authoritarian search for Kid. Vehicles had been flipped over callously like defenceless beetle bugs. Hollow shop fronts smouldered as the fires that had raged within them from the mass annihilations burnt out. The contents of burst rubbish bags messily littered the pavement; sanitation was the last concern of the terrorised Tachion community.

  Across the street, a congregation of military Officials, who worshipped the art of war, prepared to launch their next attack. Skye and the group who ran with her were the targets.

  Zzzzzzaaaap!

  A series of pop con missiles fired. Skye instinctively created a glowing blue force field of protection. Her face contorted revealing the strain she was under in doing so. The bullets exploded on impact, and everyone remained safe inside.

  “Thank you, thank you Little Missy,” cried out the people around her.

  Skye kept on running. She was exhausted and needed to conserve all of the energy she had left to hold tightly onto her backpack. Its contents were more important to her than anything else in the world.

  Across the road, a family of Tachions stood cowering in front of two Guardians. Skye reached out her hand to them, but they were too far away for her to protect. The father and mother cradled their children. Skye kept it moving and didn’t look back, blocking out the painful sounds of the entire family being fuzzed.

  Finally, Skye reached her destination at the top of C Junction; an area that used to be a bustling shopping district was now derelict.

  “This is me,” she said to the group under her protection. “Head south. You’ll find safe shelter there.”

  Where Skye was going, she knew she couldn’t take them with her. It was far too dangerous.

  The adult Tachions were reluctant to leave the security of her remarkable junior talents. They couldn’t believe she knew how to harness them.

  “Bless your bones.” A chubby burgundy Tachion said sincerely as he took leadership of the group.

  Skye left the crowd and hopped through a brown wooden latch door covered by garbage bags. She jogged down the spiral staircase leading to the old library, which to the initiated eye was the Tachion Liberation’s secret HQ.

  Skye rapped six times on the door in the sound sequence Wain had taught her. The door opened almost immediately, and she was hastily pulled into the interior darkness.

  “Did you get it?”

  “I got everything you asked for Kid, and I spoke with Seymour, the Arcadians will come and help us.” Skye rasped, breathless.

  Jet wasn’t concerned about anything apart from Skye. He pulled her in close, and she collapsed in his arms. This solo mission had been a tough one and using her powers continuously had exhausted her.

  Jet hugged Skye tightly allowing her to rejuvenate by feeding off his Human warmth and energy.

  “Thank you, Skye. I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”

  ***

  A mass of White Coats marched down a harsh tungsten lit hallway and entered a clinically white room. The room was empty and soulless with the exception of one wall made entirely from coding script and a huge desk at the far end. The digital data scrolled incessantly with dots and ones. Seated at the desk with his back turned to the entourage was His Excellency, William Admiral, the leader of the Upper Worlds.

  “Your Excellency, General Grey has reported that the search for the Monrova child is relentless in Sub Zero. Every home, every institution, everyone is being searched and questioned. Tachions with known anti – Upper World ideologies and those failing to comply are being annihilated. By terminating any Tachion resistance, under the guise of rooting out the girl, we are killing two birds with one stone. Fear reigns. No one will dare rise against us again.” The chief White Coat, Mr Moogs, said.

  “Hmmm.” The Admiral murmured, without turning to face the group. He removed the leather gloves from his hands and interlaced his fingers to reveal sharp yellowing talons. He tapped them together loudly signalling for Mr Moogs to continue.

  “Everyone on the Upper Worlds is completely captivated by this childish mythology. We should have disseminated this ‘Soul Survivor Prophecy’ nonsense years ago. It's amazing how people will believe anything.” Mr Moogs chuckled.

  “We will find Keziah and have her publicly terminated to put an end to this silly national obsession.”

  “It will take more than her annihilation to bring the masses to order.” The Admiral spoke in a low, timid voice.

  The White Coats looked at each other quizzically before Mr Moogs spoke up. “Your Excellency, what knowledge do you have to share with us on this matter?”

  The Admiral spoke into a device he used whenever he addressed the nation, which turned his feeble tone into a forceful timbre full of gusto.

  “For centuries mankind has been waiting for its saviour.” The Admiral said shortly.

  “But Your Excellency, we are Code Types, genetically superior beings who determine our own existence and are masters of our, and everyone else’s, destiny. Surely this Prophecy is fictitious. It goes against all our beliefs and principles. I, alongside my esteemed colleagues, believed that the search for this child was just a smokescreen, a scapegoat for tearing down those who have attempted to rise against us and all that we stand for, without a public outcry from the peaceful and rebellious Types.”

  The mass of White Coats nodded and murmured in agreement. Mr Moogs gained confidence in his colleagues’ concurrence and continued,

  “This so-called Prophecy is just a nonsense concocted by desperate underground dwellers.”

  The Admiral did not respond, leaving the air filled with a heart thumping silence.

  “I mean this Keziah is obviously a delusional genetic oddity. What real harm can a child do?”

  The Admiral slowly turned to face Mr Moogs and the White Coats. A tight-lipped frown adorned his pale decaying face.

  “She tampered with state-run technology of the highest degree disabling our primary agent of mind control. She held counsel with The Res, our most ferocious enemy. She found the Saps hidden community. She is currently still at large, evading capture from the most skilled military on earth. She has outsmarted all of you, the greatest minds the Upper Worlds has to offer. Someone is not doing their job properly and that someone is you.”

  “Your Excellency, I did not mean to question you, I, I, -” Mr Moogs stammered nervously.

  The Admiral didn’t have time for weakness.

  “Seize him.” He ordered disinterestedly.

  Immediately four Elite Guardians tackled Mr Moogs by his arms and legs.

  “Nooooo!” He screamed.

  His colleagues side-stepped the desperate man and reformed the group as if he never existed.

  Mr Moogs was dragged callously out of the room, to his doom.

  Another White Coat, Dr Djaba stepped to the head of the pack as the new leader, seamlessly replacing the old one.

  “Your Excellency what would you have us do?”

  The Admiral spoke unperturbed by the commotion, “Never doubt the capabilities of a little girl. Capture her quickly, and annihilate her.”

  ***

  Philippe watched the digital news scrolling across the hallway in FB.

  “Prophecy is fallacy. The Monrova siblings are still at large
. Beware of false prophets.”

  Kid’s ‘delusional’ face beamed from the report. She was the most famous person on the Upper Worlds, for all the wrong reasons.

  “More like your ‘facts’ are a fallacy, fantasy is real,” Philippe scoffed underneath his breath as he emptied his sports gear from his locker.

  It had been a week, and TEN was still reporting the ‘Keziah Monrova: Enemy of the state’ story. They had never run with a topic for that long. Luckily for him, the news had never released pictures of the rest of the crew and no one, but the Officials knew that they had ever been implicated.

  Philippe slammed his locker shut and turned abruptly to leave. Someone rushed straight into him.

  “Sorry.” He instinctively held on to stop them from falling.

  Philippe looked down. Mindy looked up.

  They hadn’t seen each other since that fateful night Ms Lush threw him out of her house.

  Philippe released his grip immediately. Mindy lingered before letting him go. They faced each other uneasily. Then both attempted to talk at the same time.

  “You first.” Philippe offered.

  “No, you first,” Mindy insisted.

  Philippe gazed at Mindy dreamily, a momentary lapse of weakness. He became sullen, “I was just going to say that,” before he could stop himself he blurted out something he was not intending to tell anyone, “I’m leaving FB.”

  Mindy looked confused in only a way that Philippe could tell, to anyone else it just looked as if she was smiling as she always did.

  “Why?”

  Philippe didn’t want to speak about this with anyone, but just looking at Mindy made him want to share all of his secrets.

  “My parents thought it would be the best thing for me. After all the trouble with the Officials, they figured I was rebelling because they had failed me as Code Type parents raising a Tachion son. They said they didn’t understand my, ‘Tachion needs.’ ” Philippe dryly air-quoted his parents.

  “They think I’m confused about my identity, so they’re sending me to Clapham House, it’s the most prestigious Tachion boarding school in the country. They hope there I'll discover my ‘self-worth.’ ”