Alysium

by Tiffany Pelletier

  She desperately held onto that feeling as she tied her chopped hair back and left the washroom. As she suspected, breakfast had already passed, and she was left hungry on the way to the mines.

  How can this day get any worse?

  She would discover just how much worse it could get by the time she reached the Apex with an ax from the storeroom in hand. Abree rounded on her as if she were a piece of freshly cooked meat.

  “Perhaps you think that you're special and don't have to work as hard as the rest of us?” spat the infuriated team leader as she poked Ranelle in the shoulder hard with her finger.

  “Let's just get to work,” Gideon interrupted, his face tense as he spoke, “we have a quota of pyromite to hit today, and we’re already behind.”

  Ranelle thought to explain her tardiness, but words failed to come. She felt deflated as she took her ax, pulled on her helmet, and slumped along with the others down the shaft. When they reached the debris site they’d been working to clear up, Ranelle set up to the far right, choosing to work away from the rest of her team.

  Re-positioning the helmet on top of her head and pulling the chin-strap tight, Ranelle was grateful that it mostly covered her newly chopped hair. She carried her pickaxe over to a sizable boulder that was part of the debris they were assigned to clear, eyeing a large vein of dark mineral that zigzagged through the rock. She remembered Gideon telling her and the others that the dark veins were pyromite. If a vein was struck, it could easily ignite and cause a cave-in. Ranelle made a mental note to give the deposits a wide berth.

  Running parallel to the pyromite were light-colored veins of mineral that crumbled into a soft powder when struck. This mineral, called alum, was known for its reflective and chemical properties.

  “When light hits these alum deposits, you’ll see why it’s my favorite mineral,” her teacher had said in one of Ranelle’s lessons as a child. The woman had brought in different mineral samples for the kids to inspect and identify. After all, in a mining burrow, rock identification was a crucial skill for daily life. Ranelle and the other children had watched with excitement as the alum had shone brilliantly whenever light reflected off it.

  “Tap it gently,” barked Abree, bringing Ranelle's attention back to the present. “Staring at it won't break it, Princess.”

  Ranelle sighed. She didn’t realize she had frozen, staring blindly at the boulder as she daydreamed. Irritated with herself for giving Abree a reason to single her out, she began tapping the delicate vein of mineral, watching as large chunks of the boulder started to fall away. Eventually, she managed to break the mass into four large pieces, each one coated with a black sooty powder which was all that remained of the alum. As beautiful as it was in its undisturbed form, the moment it was struck, alum crumbled, becoming much more dangerous. The alum powder was made of sharp, tiny particles and caused Blood Lung, a fatal condition. When the dust was inhaled, it caused small lacerations inside the lungs, causing them to bleed. Many miners had died from the ailment over the cycles. For each person that survived the cave-ins and long, backbreaking hours in tight tunnels underground, another would succumb to Blood Lung.

  By the mid-day bell, their group had only managed to clear a few feet of debris from the tunnel.

  “Great job, team!” said Gideon, beaming at his crew. “We've made some great progress so far.”

  “Great progress?” Abree spat under her breath.

  Gideon chose to ignore her comment and continued, “Now that we’ve broken up some of the boulders, it’s time to remove the debris.”

  “How do we do that?” asked the scrawny boy on their mining team as he stared wide-eyed at the rubble they’d cleared so far.

  “I would think that would be obvious, Charlie,” Abree spat as she dropped a handful of leather sacks into a pile on the tunnel ground.

  “Unfortunately, there isn’t any other way to remove the ore and rock from the tunnels safely,” said Gideon, his smile turning thoughtful, “but we’ll start slowly with light loads.”

  The other miners exchanged looks of apprehension, but walked hesitantly toward Abree, each bending to pick up a sack. When it was Ranelle's turn, she walked up to Abree, grabbed her bag, and forced a smile. Abree scowled with malice. Obviously, she thought Ranelle “the princess” would’ve complained about doing more challenging labor. However, she wasn't going to give Abree the satisfaction of being right.

  “These sacks are really old,” Gideon emphasized, “and we don't have a lot of them, so watch your loads and help each other.” Gideon went on to explain how each miner was to have their bag loaded by the other workers. They were then instructed to wait for a team leader to approve their cargo before proceeding. The sacks were sewn together with patchworked squares of salvaged leather and had a long strap with a wide band sewn into its middle.

  “The band goes across your forehead,” said Gideon, selecting Ranelle to demonstrate on for the others. He crossed the mineshaft and motioned for Ranelle to face away from him. After she did, she couldn't help but register the look of fury on Abree's face. Ranelle simply stared ahead, a small smirk spreading across her lips. She waited until the strap suddenly appeared over her head. She stood on her tiptoes, centering the fullest part of the band on her forehead, as Gideon explained. Next, the team leader let the weight bare down slowly, and after Ranelle was holding the full heft of the sack, he helped adjust her stance and posture by pressing gently on the back of her neck. He guided her to position her body for maximum stability with the least amount of pressure on her neck and shoulders. As his hands moved gently down her backside, she felt her face redden, and her heart begin to thump heavily in her chest. She frowned, analyzing the sudden physical reaction he’d invoked within her.

  I'm not used to people touching me, she told herself simply.

  Dismissing her unforeseen physical reaction, Ranelle continued listening intently to Gideon’s instruction. Still, as quickly as her mind was convinced, her heart was wiser, immediately knowing the difference between the truth and the lie she told herself.

  That night, Ranelle sat alone on her small bunk, listening to the sounds of the other dormitory kids as they sat talking, whispering, and playing. She hadn't been around the dorm much since she’d started mining. Ranelle knew Fraine was keen to catch up with her and get the nitty-gritty details of her new mining assignment. Still, she just didn't feel up to talking to her friend after a long day of back-breaking mine work.

  In addition to sore muscles, there was another after effect of working in the capsized mineshafts. Ranelle had grown up in an underground city, so clearly, she was used to enclosed spaces from an early age. However, the underground burrows of Alysium were housed in spacious, naturally forming caverns. The mineshafts, on the other hand, caused Ranelle measurable discomfort. Perhaps it was related to her parents’ death, or maybe it was the closeness of the walls and the mustiness of the air that made her feel uncomfortable. Either way, as soon as Ranelle entered the Apex, she felt the air change, which was unsettling.

  The difference in air quality was owed to the abundance of bloom, a sprawling plant that grew all over the cavern walls in the burrows. Small and fibrous, looking like spindly balls of matted green hair, bloom sprawled out in large patches, spreading wherever its tendril-like vines could attach. These ugly plants thrived and fed on dirty air, the fibrous part of the plant acting as a filter, absorbing toxins that would otherwise build up, making people sick. Ranelle preferred the cleaner, crisper air of the burrow rather than the distinctly denser air that was trapped several levels below in the mines.

  Sitting back on her bunk, stretching out her sore muscles, she watched with amusement as several boys fought over a snack that one of them had brought back from dinner. The three youngsters tussled, wrestling over bunks and down onto the floor until the smallest one broke free from the others with his prize, a single biscuit, clutched within his tiny hand. Hiking up his oversized pants and letting out a victory cry, he booked it for the main
dormitory hall, the other two boys straggling along behind.

  Ranelle watched after them for a few minutes before the closest lamp sizzled and popped, drawing her attention. The sound was most likely the result of an unfortunate bug finding its end within the flames. Glancing up at the light, a smile of unexpected contentment spread across her lips. Before she was assigned to the mines, her chore had been to empty, clean, and refill the dormitory lamps. It was a most unpleasant job as it entailed scrubbing dead bug bits from metal and stone basins.

  Ranelle sighed.

  Perhaps a mining assignment wasn’t so bad after all.

  There were other jobs she could’ve been assigned to, like scaling the burrow walls harvesting bloom, or she could have been given the nastiest job of all; pyrus collection. In addition to mining, bloom harvesting and pyrus collection had become some of Alysium’s primary industries. It had taken many cycles of experimenting with the plant for Alysians to discover the usefulness of the highly concentrated oil secreted within bloom vines. The oil, called pyrus, burned very slowly. Small amounts could remain lit for many hours, providing a stable light and heat source. When pyrus was initially discovered, Alysians began harvesting bloom vines by the barrel full. They sliced them open, draining the oil which was then used in lamps all over the burrows. As the fuel burned, it provided every building, street, and tunnel in each city with brilliant and dependable light and warmth.

  As Alysium’s population inevitably grew, more and more bloom tendrils were harvested to supply the ever-growing demand for pyrus, eventually causing a scarcity in more recent times. Yet, as the supply of bloom became dangerously low, Alysians sought out an additional source of pyrus. While excavating, Ashbournians discovered the buried remnants of bloom, realizing that it too contained valuable pyrus, but in a mineralized form. Ultimately, the mines were built to harvest the mineral, called pyromite, and a process to extract the pyrus from the ore was developed. If not for the mines in Ashbourne, the oil lamps across Alysium would run dry of pyrus, quickly sending the burrows into darkness.

  There are worse jobs than working in the mines.

  Ranelle contemplated the thought as she glanced at the pyrus lanterns around the dorm, grateful for the first time that she’d been picked for mining duty. She couldn’t imagine having to work the kilns, extracting pyrus from chunks of ore. She also could have been assigned the unpleasant task of slicing into bloom tendril after tendril, collecting vats of oil, day after day. Perhaps it would be better to accept her life as an adult, rather than waste her time wishing for a different one.

  Sighing, Ranelle pulled her feet up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, drawing them snuggly in toward her body. She closed her eyes tightly, thinking of Fraine and how disappointed her young friend would be when she heard the reality of Ranelle's lackluster work duties.

  For a reason unknown to Ranelle, Fraine had an elevated opinion of a miner’s life. Whenever she saw a worker emerging from the mining district, their clothes soiled, face covered in dust, she would wink at Ranelle. “I bet it’s all an act, they just want us to think they’re miserable.” Fraine would then entertain Ranelle and the other kids from the dorm for hours with her fabricated tales, full of adventure and intrigue.

  Ranelle tried futilely to get the girl to lower her expectations. Still, Fraine always just shrugged her shoulders and said, “it could happen.” Eventually, Ranelle gave up, sometimes even participating in the creation of Fraine’s stories. However, she hadn’t seen the small girl since her assignment day. Ranelle feared that the real monotony of mining duty might damage the joyful nature of her only friend.

  Contemplating the possibility, Ranelle stretched out, laying back on her cot, eager to rest after her mining shift. However, those intentions were abruptly thwarted when she heard the pitter-patter of small feet across the stone floor.

  “Hey!” Fraine proclaimed merrily through Ranelle’s closed eyelids.

  “Hey,” muttered Ranelle, her tone lacking the enthusiasm of the younger girl.

  “Oh gosh,” said Fraine with trepidation. “What's the matter?”

  “I'm exhausted,” Ranelle said honestly, her shoulders aching in silent confirmation.

  “Oh, I bet,” said Fraine teasingly, nudging Ranelle's side playfully to get her to make room on her cot. Ranelle grunted and opened her eyes, reluctantly sitting up so Fraine could sit down.

  Fraine plopped herself lightly upon the cot, crossed her legs underneath her small frame, and stared at Ranelle expectantly.

  “What?” said Ranelle plainly.

  “I want to hear details,” Fraine demanded as she tried to sit still, her body nearly shaking with anticipation.

  “Details about what?” said Ranelle darkly, still unsure of what to tell her.

  “Oh, come on, I might be younger than you, but I can handle it! I want to know everything! What's it like down there? Have you found anything cool in the mines? How much fun have you been having without me?” Questions spewed forth from the youngster as if she'd been holding them in for weeks.

  “Well,” started Ranelle reluctantly, “I've only just started mining.”

  “I know that, but you must have found something exciting!” The young girl implored and leaned in closer to Ranelle, as if her physical proximity might prompt the information to come forth more willingly.

  “Well,” repeated Ranelle, wringing her hands in her lap nervously.

  “You're not going to tell her about the secret miner's cavern, are you, Elle?” Ranelle was surprised to find Gideon approaching her cot, hands shoved into his pants’ pockets, wearing a gentle smile on his face.

  “What?” squeaked Fraine, nearly leaping to her feet.

  “Elle?” said Ranelle unamused.

  “Yeah,” continued Gideon as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the large rock outcropping next to her cot that supported that section of the dormitory ceiling. “We all get cool nicknames after we become miners, but don't tell anyone. We only use them around other miners, but I think we can trust you.” Gideon laid his charm on real thick for small Fraine, winking at the girl as he bent over and whispered ‘secret miner stuff’ to the young girl. It took a moment for Ranelle to realize what Gideon was doing for her friend, and for her. She watched in silence as his harmless white lies filled Fraine with delight.

  “So, where’s this 'secret miner's cavern'?” Fraine asked skeptically, looking at the Regent’s son, her eyebrows raised.

  “Yeah,” Ranelle piped up for the first time, “I've never seen it before myself.”

  Gideon looked over at Ranelle with a grin, which usually would have irritated her, but just then it seemed almost contagious. She fought its effects for a moment until she was defeated as the corners of her mouth twitched upward involuntarily.

  “Oh, I figured you were too tired after a full day’s work to go see it, Elle,” Gideon said, saying his newfound nickname for her with playful emphasis.

  “I wanna see it!” Fraine whined as she tugged on Ranelle's arm, “please can we?”

  “It's up to Gid,” said Ranelle, raising her eyebrow inquisitively. The use of the ridiculous moniker sent Fraine into giggles as the two teenagers appraised each other.

  “I'm good for it,” said Gideon, attempting indifference. He replied pointedly with a straight face, “Elle?”

  “I guess,” she sighed, dragging her sore body from her cot and slipping her stocking feet into her unlaced boots. She tied and knotted them as the others waited. The boots had been her mother's and for cycles, Ranelle had worn them, tripping and falling as her feet swam inside, refusing to give them up for ones that might fit. Now, as she stood inside the boots, stretching her toes out comfortably, it felt like she’d finally grown into them.

  Chapter Five

  Ranelle and Fraine followed Gideon out of the dormitory and into the crisp night air. The everyday routines that unassigned children completed every day seemed silly in comparison to the plethora of activi
ty that was happening about the burrow at night.

  When Ashbournian children reached the age of assignment, the youth curfew that restricted children to their dorms or houses after hours, was lifted. Ranelle, however, had been too exhausted each day after work to take advantage, until now.

  Gideon walked ahead, taking in the sights as the two girls followed along behind, unable to keep from gawking.

  There were miners everywhere. The young, single ones gathered all over the burrow. They partied, played music, and made bonfires inside barrels of garbage, the scent of burning oil carrying into the night air.

  As Fraine and Ranelle followed their guide, their mouths dropped open in awe as they watched people dance and sing, talking loudly with faces illuminated by firelight.

  “It's so…alive!” Fraine whispered, her face beaming with nervous excitement.

  When Gideon realized the girls weren't keeping up, he turned to see them, stumbling ahead, mesmerized by the nightlife all around them as they stared stupidly at the crowds of people.

  “What are they drinking?” Fraine inquired, referring to cups of a phosphorus drink that all the adults were guzzling hastily.

  “Those are spirits,” Gideon answered in an urgent whisper as he circled back, coming up behind the girls and ushering them forward. “Remember, Fraine is still under curfew, Elle.”

  Ranelle bristled, either from Gideon’s continuous use of her nickname, or by the sting of his warning. On the path ahead, patrollers walked, checking on those out after curfew.

  “Damn,” Gideon spat as he spotted the patrol ahead, “this way!” He ushered the girls off the well-worn footpath and down the sharp, rocky bank of the Stoneflow River, the turbulent waterway that ran through the burrow.

  “What are we doing?” Ranelle hissed as she slipped slightly, rocks and debris falling down the bank as she tried to keep her footing.