by Y A Marks
CHAPTER 23
Ten miles from the I-775 outer loop, the interstate spread out like a pitchfork. The far left lanes stated “Upper Class Atlanta – Scans Required.” The middle lanes said, “Middle-Class Atlanta – Scans Required.” The right lanes said nothing.
AJ continued to the far right. The other sets of lanes slowly wrapped above us into the tiered interstate. Before we hit the inner loop, I-285, the truck slowed and turned off the exit. We navigated a few turns and stopped at the back of a bustling parking lot.
A huge, pink horse that was almost as tall as all three tiers of the interstate sat in the middle of the parking lot, surrounded by hundreds of hovercars, landcars, and old clunkers. Spotlights cut into the sky with beams of yellow, pink, and white. A tent that could hold five circuses was behind the giant horse and music was blaring in every direction. Women dressed in every type of bathing suit, evening gown, short dress, and costume were giggling and teasing a flurry of men of all ages.
I hopped out of the truck just as Sun Hi opened the door. She looked at me then spun her head toward AJ. She was not amused.
“You frequent here often?” Sun Hi asked.
AJ sighed and yanked a large satchel onto his back. “Look, we need a place to lie low. No one is going to look for us out here, and we can catch the train.”
“Whatever.”
“Why don’t we just head on and not worry about it,” Rylan said and grabbed another bag as big as AJ’s.
I didn’t dare ask what was in those things. They were big and bulky, and honestly, I didn’t want to know.
AJ and I lifted the hoverbike off the truck. I wanted to kick him in the gut for watching me and Rylan. But I’d had plenty of time to calm down, and right now wasn’t the time for fights when Mari and Miko’s lives were on the line.
I guided the bike through the lot, bypassing a few patrons. I pressed my head into my shirt collar and spied under the big top. Inside, dozens of women swung back and forth on trapezes, danced on makeshift stages, or balanced themselves on poles. Any style of showgirl you wanted, the place had it.
It was a shame there were men still like that in the world. All the classes could agree that an attractive woman shaking her breasts, butt, or maybe even more, was worth a few credits. I had never been to places like that, but I’d heard plenty of people over the years make comments stating that was where I’d end up. Teenage girls didn’t get many options to make a living.
The prospect of becoming one of those women frightened me. That world sucked the life out of a person and left them as a shell of themselves. My good luck charm gave me a way out and kept me safe.
Before we left the parking lot, at least two old men gave me the willies with their stares. One offered me a free ounce of R-Eye-P if I would let him look under my shirt. Both times Rylan came to my rescue. Part of me was glad I didn’t have to deal with the perverts, but the other part wanted to use their faces for target practice.
We entered the station. Tall, concrete walls stretched at least four stories above us. A few monitors displayed the arrival of the next train. Plenty of holographic posters shone brightly with advertisements including Refrex Soda, the importance of saying no to drugs, and Allison Riley’s intelligent concealer line of cosmetics. We rounded a corner and used the elevator to go up two floors where we would catch the train.
Rylan tapped me on the shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” My mind whizzed through every possibility.
“For what it’s worth, I think your idea will work.”
“I hope so,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. “I’d sure hate if it didn’t. Cause we’ll all be in trouble—big trouble.”
I didn’t want to fail Mari and Miko, but for the first time, I didn’t want to lose Rylan’s faith in me either. He trusted me with his safety and life, all for two kids he didn’t even know. The weight of it all beat down on my spirit.
I glanced around the empty, gray terminal. My body deflated. Rylan wrapped his arm around me and squeezed.
“Is it okay if I comfort you?” he asked. “’Cause I know you’re hurting.”
I grinned. A soft smile covered the lower portion of his face.
“Yeah, it’s okay.” I rested my head against his shoulder and glanced at a monitor above us, which stated the next train was due in forty-five seconds.
“What did you do before you were… I mean, part of the… well, you know,” I asked.
“You won’t believe it.”
“Try me.”
“Well, my parents were rich. I mean, living in the Summit rich. They were what you’d call Lower-C Sympathizers. I never felt they did enough, even though my mom died in the Five Day-R. So when I started college…”
“You’re in college?”
“Was. Just one month, a freshman.”
I raised my head and turned toward him. “How old are you?”
“I just turned eighteen.”
“But you—”
“I’m one of those weird October birthdays that start school either early or late.”
“So when’s your birthday?”
“The twenty-fourth.”
“Wow, you are kind of a baby. I was thinking you were like some old man for a minute,” I joked and laid my head back on his shoulder.
“Uh, thanks? I think. So what was I saying?”
“Lower-C Sympathizers,” I said flatly.
“Even when I was in high school, I knew a few people in Escerica. Nobody like Sun Hi or AJ, but a few friends had joined. They wondered how I could be thinking about the future when the world was split apart. To them, it was just a matter of time before the Middle-Cs became the Lower-Cs. There would only be the mega rich and the unbelievably poor. I didn’t think that way. My sister took my mom’s approach and believed activism and politics were the keys to changing the world. She tried to convince me to stay on that path. When I went to college, things were just different. I couldn’t just study and hope one day things would get better. So I dropped out, and my sister had two undiagnosed heart attacks. She had spent the last five years giving up her life to raise me, and I had gone and followed in my father’s footsteps.”
“I’m sorry. Do you still talk to her?”
“I haven’t seen her in a few months. She’s the only family I have, really. I’ve been meaning to go by her house, but—”
“But you’ve been busy blowing up drones.”
“Yeah.”
“What about your dad?”
“Let’s not—” His words stopped, and rigidness took over his body. It was such a startling change that I lifted my head up and stared at him. I don’t know what had happened, but something about his dad angered him.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” I asked.
His face loosened and he took a deep breath. “Let’s just say, I prefer to talk about my sister.”
“She sounds great. Please, tell me more about her.” I relaxed and wondered what pain he had with his father. I leaned back against him, but I wasn’t quite as comfortable as before.
He told me about how sorry he felt for abandoning his sister, but I didn’t hear much of what he said. My mind was playing tug-of-war between my emotions and my need to focus.
A second later, the train barreled into the station. Flickering lights expanded and folded over us until everyone and everything was painted in yellow.
We settled in the train. It picked up speed and headed north into Atlanta. I sat a few seats down from Sun Hi and AJ. Rylan sat across from us, one hand holding the hoverbike steady. Sun Hi explained that we shouldn’t say much of anything, and avoid each other if possible. This way we’d seem like random strangers, instead of a group.
The train was empty except for a few people who did their best not to make eye contact. It was the Lower-C way never to notice anything, except what they were supposed to see. Lower-Cs didn’t want to be able to talk to the police unless they were desperate. When I saw things like, say, four teenagers gett
ing on a train with a hoverbike, not only did I not look at them, I’d also wait for the next train.
The hoverbike wasn’t that big. It folded up into a size a little smaller than the average motorcycle, but it was something that grabbed attention, like a red dress or a decorative tattoo. Learning the art of being invisible was a way of life to a Lower-C. Someone may think they want to be seen, until the wrong person saw them. With my worn purple hoodie, faded jeans, and scuffed boots, no one ever paid much attention to me.
I glanced out the window. Atlanta blurred by in flickering lights and wide stone sections. My mind drifted to all the new outfits I’d purchased from Perimeter Market. I snuck them into the Stadium and found one of the many hiding places to try them on. I’d strut around wearing the most expensive clothes I could buy, knowing I had taken way too much out of someone’s account to do it. I loved the feel of silk on my skin, and the way wool scratched my neck. I found one hundred percent cotton to be soft and light, and fleece made me want to fall asleep inside of its comforting touch.
I never kept any of them more than one night. I’d always make sure no one saw me, not even Mari or Miko. The next day, I’d donate them or just throw them away. The garbage was just as good as a donation bin. It’d take less than a day to see people wearing my old-new clothes. Sometimes even men took some of the items. You don’t know funny until you see an old, half-drunk man with a scraggly beard wearing a red form-fitting satin dress in a size two petite.
At Peachtree Center, AJ and Sun Hi got off the train. Sun Hi said they would wait a few minutes and catch the train after it. At the next station, I mingled with a few people who were on the train and left the car. After a few steps into the terminal, I doubled back and sat in a separate car.
Josalyn was sure she could scramble the security camera video without much of a problem. She had hacked into the train systems hundreds of times. She explained that the key to a good hack is to get in, do the dirty work, and get out. Stupid or young hackers wanted to leave their mark, but smart ones wanted the doors to stay open so they could come and go as they pleased.
She promised she would be watching at all times through the various security systems and alert us via PCD if there were potential problems. “Mom’s having a heart attack” was the signal to abort. “Have you seen Buster?” was to let us know cops were near. “I’m bored. Watching something on TV” was all clear.
At the Perimeter Center exit, I got off the train and took the escalator to the main level. From there, I continued to the street. The one-starred flag was still waving high in the sky. As most of the celestial stars were faded by the city lights, a blob of black and blue appeared around the flag. The flag appeared as a continuation across the sky, with one white star barely illuminated, like a ghost.
All my life the flag meant very little to me, but in that moment I searched deeper, to see the hope the American flag once symbolized. I wondered, when did it become popular for Americans to only care about themselves? When did the powerful begin to loathe the weak? When did humanity begin to die?
I ended my mental tirade and turned my sights toward Perimeter Market. It was almost eight o’clock. There was a mild crowd, lots of Middle-Cs and a good amount of Lower-Cs. A few police roamed around, but nothing unusual. I passed under the monitors in the main hall. On the screen, a reporter spoke with an expert in terrorism. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the closed captioning stated that “Generally, organizations like these are driven by fear. They don’t care about the people, only about themselves.”
Videos of me and Rylan, along with the drone being destroyed, inter-cut into the main video feed. After a close up of me, they showed the video with the unnamed teenager, standing atop the destroyed drone waving the fifty-two-starred flag. If I hadn’t known better, I’d say the editor was trying to convey that I was the mystery person. When I took a second look, the person did have a feminine quality about them, but the person definitely wasn’t me.
I took a deep breath and put my hand over my heart. It rattled against my palm. My eyes shut as I relaxed my shoulders. “This is just a tiny robbery. Nothing to worry about. Security, not credits is what we’re after.”
I stepped from the shadows and blended into the crowd. A middle aged woman sauntered by, her eyes locked on her PCD. I forced a wad of saliva down my throat, took a long look at my PCD, and bumped her slightly. She raised her eyes for a moment, but quickly returned to her texting. I glanced back at her purse where I had dropped my PCD a second ago.
My legs carried me back and forth through the streams of patrons. I placed five remote-controlled speakers into a few other people’s clothes. I only hoped Josalyn would be able to hack into the Perimeter Market’s Wi-Fi like she said she would. I glanced into security cameras, partially because I was supposed to be seen. The other reason was I wanted Josalyn to know where I was. She had better not be taking a cat nap. I needed her eyes open and ready to go.
I removed my headband so my D-Tag could be scanned and pulled up a throwaway PCD that Rylan gave me. I spun down the very alley where I met Dhyla two years before. A laugh scratched my throat. A ghost of my fourteen-year-old-self eyed me as she puked all over the ground. I grinned back.
A deep breath expanded my lungs. This was the moment I had thought about all day. My knees wobbled but my shoulders bent back. This sacrifice would bring Mari and Miko closer. My abandonment worries would be behind me.
My back rammed into a wall. I held the throwaway PCD close to my mouth and shut my eyes. My voice lifted and yelled into the receiver. “My name is Paeton Washington! I’m a rebel. Change is coming. Fear nor pacification will stop change. It is inalienable.” I remembered Rylan’s words when I had first met him. They seemed appropriate.
My skin pulsed. The roar of patrons ended and silence spread over the whole market. For three seconds the world stopped and listened. Murmurs and shuffling thickened the air.
I didn’t know if I needed to say any more. I didn’t want to stay in the alley too long or someone may see me. I flipped my hoodie over my head and walked back to the main square.
Before I could make it a half a dozen steps, a cop barreled into me. I tripped but caught myself. My eyes widened and heat spread over my chest. The cop glanced back, nodded, and sped off. I stepped deeper into the center of the market.
A woman stood with her eyes wide. She circled around as dozens of people crowded around her. I took a second glance at the woman’s purse, knowing my PCD was inside.
“What? I didn’t. I didn’t say anything,” she yelled.
The cop rammed into the lady and threw her to the ground. Her purse and shopping bags scattered over the hard concrete. An android cop dashed over and fastened handcuffs on her wrists. The woman’s face widened. Her head trembled.
“I didn’t. You don’t understand. This is a mistake.” She rambled on and on. Her body vibrating as tears fell from her eyes. I wanted to help her, to say it was my mistake, but in the end I didn’t because this was the plan.
A loud sound rumbled in someone else’s clothes. It was my voice again saying the same statement. “My name is Paeton Washington. I’m a rebel—”
One of the pocket speakers from the far end of the market cut that sound off and the message continued, “Change is coming.”
“Fear nor pacification will stop change,” said another.
“It is inalienable,” sounded in the distance.
The police, both android and human, stopped and stood. They scanned around following my voice as it rose from different people. The crowd stepped back, turning, searching for the guilty parties. Several people backed up and quickstepped away.
My voice blasted from the speakers in the market itself. The advertisement monitors blinked away and changed into video of me and Rylan, the downed drone, and the flag-waving person. The videos sped up until they were a blur of movement. Finally, my nine-year-old picture sat in the middle of the screen with the words “Change is Coming” beneath it.
Dizziness over took me. I reached out for something to hold me up. I needed to sit down, but I couldn’t make it. My mind swam. My body drifted as though I were going to faint.
My name rose from the silence. “Paeton, Paeton, Paeton…” It slowly increased in volume. It was my own voice calling to me, reaching into my mind and pulling me back to reality. I glanced at the advertisements and then instinctively turned toward a security camera. I nodded to the camera and hoped Josalyn knew I was okay.
I exhaled and pulled out the gun I had stolen from the police officer. I yanked my hood back and raised the gun high above my head. After steadying myself, three shots cracked into the air. The recoil echoed over the stone walls. The crowd turned toward the sound. Everyone near me stepped back as they recognized my posture, my clothes, and my face.
Eyes and expressions widened. The crowd burst into every direction. The police abandoned the woman on the ground and dashed toward me. The speakers and video feed of the market blasted every odd sound imaginable, from the theme of Lone Ranger to gunshots.
I scrambled into the ruckus. I tossed my hoodie into the trash and stretched a red hat on my head. Bright arcs shot through the crowd, slamming into the police and knocking them out cold. A glowing blue line zipped by. Sun Hi’s face shifted back and forth barely visible. She nodded toward me before disappearing into a blue haze.
I dashed off toward Café Lanta. A big, black, and gray thing shot in front of me. An android cop’s torso sparked and tumbled over the ground. I spun my head to the right. Rylan grinned before collapsing some kind of supergun. He stuck his tongue out at me before placing the fakest scared expression on his face I’d ever seen. A moment later, he disappeared back into the crowd.
The crowd wailed around me as my voice, movie themes, and explosions blasted from the market speakers. Dozens of people bumped into me and scores of hovercars and magnacars sped off into the distance.