by Drew Cordell
“Flounder, bass, eel, and more! Fresh fish!” a merchant called as people flocked over to examine the haul. His stand was loaded with fish stacked heavily in beds of ice surrounded by clear plastic dividers. Having no interest in fish, we decided to browse the stalls offering other goods. The two guards outside of the Scavenger Guild had already taken their usual place outside the door, their rifles slung low across their chests. The guard with the beard had his hand rested on the metal hilt of the massive sword, swaying on his feet as he spoke with the other.
“Champions all the way out here?” an elderly man asked from behind his market stall as he appraised us with curiosity.
“Excuse me?” I asked him.
“The insignia on your jackets. You’re from the Champions of Liberty—or you found some jackets you weren’t supposed to find,” he told us as he continued to look us over through battered glasses. He waved both hands over his market stall which was filled with a few canisters of boiling liquid. “The Champions are welcome at my shop. Please, come take a look,” he said, his face cheerful.
Caeldra and I approached, and he grabbed two small plastic cups from a bag. “I’m a tea brewer. Not as popular as coffee, but I grow the plants myself,” he said as he flipped a lever on one of the large canisters, pouring tea into both cups. “I’ve got sugar, honey, and chilled milk if you’d like it,” he said with a smile as he handed us the cups. I added a small dash of sugar to my tea and Caeldra added the works. She drank the tea eagerly and gave a refreshing sigh as she finished the cup. I downed mine as well, and we both thanked him for the sample. When Caeldra left, I bought a bag of the tea we had tried for sixty credits and tucked it away between my leg and the side wall of my wheelchair. I would give it to her as a gift later.
After browsing the market and finding nothing else we were in dire need of, we went to the Scavenger Guild office where the two guards let us in right away, recognizing us from the day before. We were once again escorted to Jack’s office and Caeldra moved one of the chairs aside so I could wheel myself in and preserve my strength.
“Ah, I’m glad to see you’re doing better, Jake,” he said as he moved some datapads to clear a space on his desk. “I got you these. I had to guess on your measurements,” he said as he brought up two bundles wrapped in tissue paper. Inside were street clothes, the types of clothes citizens of the Slums would wear. I had a ragged pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a hefty brown hoodie with a Government sponsored message: “Thinkers: paving the way to the perfect future.”
Caeldra’s clothes lacked any graphics, and they looked like they would be a bit too big on her.
“Thanks. Will it be possible for us to leave tomorrow?” Caeldra asked as she pulled the bundle of clothes toward her.
Jack frowned. “I’m afraid not. You’re scheduled to depart in a few hours. We’ll have you back to your district by the end of the day, but you’ll want to get Jake to the Undercity right when you arrive. The longer he’s on the surface, the more danger you’ll be in.”
“He’s not really in any condition to travel. And what about our gear? Is it already in transit?” Caeldra asked, a look frustration forming on her face.
“Yes. We’ll be sending your Guild clothes separately. I really am sorry we have to transport you both so soon. I’m aware of Jake’s condition, but it’s the best we can do. If you don’t go today, there may not be another chance for quite some time.”
Caeldra nodded gravely. “We’ll get changed and then we’ll be ready to leave. Also, we’ve got an open tab at Emeralds. Please see that it is taken care of.”
Jack nodded and gave us the office, and we changed into the clothes he had given us. Mine fit about right, but Caeldra’s were at least a size too large.
“Look, I’m helping the Government achieve a perfect future,” I said as I flashed her a wide grin and pointed to my hoodie. She gave a groan and opened the office door as I returned to my wheelchair.
Jack called over a man named Morris and introduced us.
“Pleasure to meet you both. I’ll be your guide to the surface and will take you to the truck,” he said in a strange accent.
We followed him out of the office, Caeldra pushing the back of my chair, probably thinking I’d need my strength later. Morris led us through the streets to a point where the road narrowed significantly into a metal bridge that extended into a well-lit tunnel ahead.
“Not too much farther from here. We just need to reach the service elevator for Jake,” he said as he turned on a large LED flashlight. I turned my head as we crossed the bridge and could see there were many boats like the one Jasper had floating around the large body of water surrounding the city. It was fascinating such a city could exist under the surface of New York, unknown to the citizens of the Slums, I thought again.
We traveled to a large platform and, with the exception of Morris’ flashlight and the bright plastic buttons of the rusted control panel, rode the elevator up for several minutes in complete darkness. It was getting colder as we rose. Even the upper levels of the Undercity were subject to the brutal winters of New York.
We reached a warehouse much like the one we used with the Champions to get to the Undercity from my district and were escorted out back to where a large truck was waiting for us. The air was freezing, and the wind pierced through my hoodie with ease. A few men were loading heavy-looking boxes into the back and one of them waved us forward.
“This is where I leave you,” Morris told us. “You’ll be back home in a few hours. Listen to the drivers and you’ll be fine.”
The leader was wearing brown overalls over a dark jacket. “You’ll be riding in the cargo hold. Just stay quiet and we’ll drop you off in your district when we get there,” he said as he pointed to the back of the truck.
Morris headed back to the elevator in the warehouse, and Caeldra pushed my chair up on the loading lift of the vehicle while one of the workers lifted us into the cargo hold. We moved to the back of the heavily loaded truck and positioned ourselves behind some of the large metal crates that were stacked to the ceiling.
The back door slammed shut, and the truck began to move. Unfortunately, the back of the truck wasn’t heated, and it was almost the same temperature as the outside air without the wind. Caeldra decided to sit on my lap while I was seated in the chair so she wouldn’t have to sit on any of the freezing metal surfaces. She avoided putting any weight on my injured leg.
It was cold, but without the fierce wind, it was bearable. The truck ride itself lasted a few hours before we came to an abrupt stop. The back of the truck opened and my heart sank.
A dozen Enforcers began approaching, lights flashing, weapons raised. A heavy dropship had landed behind them, guns trained as they began to climb into the truck.
29 BARON
∆∆∆
We were surrounded in less than a minute. They dragged us out of the truck, acting surprisingly gentle despite their cold hands gripping us tightly. My wheelchair was tossed out of the back as well, skittering across the frosted pavement. I looked at Caeldra, and she wore a grave expression as we both realized we had likely been betrayed. Enforcers held the lead driver and one of the other workers with a crushing grasp. They were moved to the back of the truck with us where one of the Enforcers shot them both in the head. Blood splashed on the side of the truck, and they crumpled to the ground. Steam floated into the air from the burning blasts. I fought against the Enforcers, trying to break away and escape the same fate as the dead men. Citizens in the streets screamed and ran away from the scene.
The Enforcers carried us to the front of the dropship where Caeldra was shoved to her knees. The barrel of a rifle was placed on the back of her head. She grimaced and hung her head solemnly as a middle-aged man in an expensive looking gray coat exited the dropship. He was wearing polished leather shoes and expensive pants. I could see a flash of gold before he pulled brown gloves onto his hands and wrapped a scarf of the same, drab color, around his neck. His gray hair w
as neatly styled with gel.
“Terribly cold today, isn’t it?” he asked no one in particular as he walked over to us. “Jacob, it’s wonderful to meet you, but you have made my job very difficult. I understand the Enforcers can be intimidating, but you won’t be harmed.” He looked over to the crumpled bodies of the two drivers and sighed. “Dear heavens, you couldn’t have done that offsite?” he asked the lead Enforcer as he moved to block our vision of the bodies.
“Those men were wanted felons; however, I deeply apologize for the lack of etiquette of the Enforcers,” he said as he reached for a datapad.
“Who are you?” I asked, fearing surging in my mind.
“I’m Baron Marwin Zaris, third of my house,” he replied. “And who is this you have with you, Jacob?” He turned to Caeldra who was staring at him with hatred in her eyes.
“She doesn’t have anything to do with this. She’s just a friend. She doesn’t know anything,” I said, pitching my voice low and level in an attempt to make it seem more truthful.
The man laughed and placed his hand under her chin, pulling it up and looking at her face.
I saw a glint of light come from her mouth when her head slumped back down as he released his grip. She had the cyanide capsule between her teeth.
“Caeldra, don’t you even think about it!” I snarled.
Caeldra looked up and met my gaze, tears beading in the corners of her eyes.
The Baron gave an amused laugh which turned to frustration when he still couldn’t figure out what was going on between us.
“What an odd name,” he said as he typed something into his datapad. “Is that Kaledra? Ah, no here it is.”
“Well, Ms. Caeldra Thompson, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said after looking on the datapad, a wry smile twisted his lips. “It looks like you haven’t visited a Collection Parlor in years. I’d be very interested to see what you know.”
“Just take me and let her go,” I said, fear gripping my heart.
“You have nothing to worry about, Jacob. You will be coming with us, but I’m afraid we couldn’t take your friend here even if we wanted to.” He turned to Caeldra. “Ms. Thompson, I hope you’re not doing anything you aren’t supposed to be, and we’ll see your name on the Collection records shortly.”
He gave a nod to the Enforcers, and they released their grip on Caeldra after helping her back up. She looked at me gravely.
“Go,” I told her, my voice calm, my eyes swimming with tears. This was had to be it. This man in front of me would take me to the Sculptors where I’d die. My life would be over without making a shred of difference. Caeldra didn’t move. If they brought me to an interrogation facility, all I would have to do was bite down on the small glass capsule and it would all be over, everyone in the Guild would still be safe.
“Go,” I said, my voice barely audible, just a whisper of sorrow. I wanted nothing more than for her to escape with her life while she still had it. It was too late for me, but it didn’t have to be for her.
She ran away and disappeared around a corner a few seconds later.
“Now, shall we depart, Mr. Ashton?” Marwin asked as he waved his gloved hand toward the interior of the dropship. I was helped into the ship and seated in a comfortable chair, strapped in with a seatbelt that extended across both shoulders and my waist. Marwin sat beside me and took off his gloves. The Enforcers stayed behind to clean up the crime scene, and the dropship roared to life and lifted off the ground. Terror and disbelief flooded my mind. What was happening to me? Why was I still alive? Why was Caeldra allowed to leave? Marwin handed me a pair of headphones and I placed them over my ears; they blocked out the loud roar of the engines.
“I’m sure you have a million questions, and they will all be answered in due time. For now, we need to prepare you for your welcoming ceremony. We’re headed to Olympus.”
30 OLYMPUS
∆∆∆
The ship rose from the streets of the Slums at an alarming rate, making the buildings appear microscopic through the frosted window on the side of the armored ship. Vents overhead pumped hot air into the cabin, warming my cold body. We were rising along one of the massive support beams that held the ceiling of the Slums, some three thousand feet above the surface. My vision was temporarily blocked as we rose through what resembled a vertical tunnel, then a few minutes later we were on a different level of the city. The difference was staggering. The buildings were taller and more organized. There were cars all over the roads, cars that looked a lot newer than the ones in the Slums. There were trees and wide open spaces that looked like they were covered in grass even though it was brown. Those are parks, I thought as I remembered the pictures in the Thought Collection Parlors.
“Is this Olympus?” I asked Marwin as I soaked in the foreign sight.
“Oh heavens no. These are the Mids. Still, it’s probably very different from what you’re used to. It’s going to take some time to get acclimated when we arrive in Olympus. You’re quite literally going from nothing to royalty.”
“Royalty?” I asked, testing the unfamiliar word.
“Well, yes. You’ve created the thirteenth Paragon Thought. That doesn’t go unrewarded,” he said with a grin. “My great grandfather was responsible for the fifth Paragon Thought; he was the first of House Zaris.”
I had no recollection of what the Paragon Thought could have been. A more sinister idea popped into my head: this was an elaborate trap to keep my guard down before the Sculptors came. But why would this man sit with me without any guards if he thought I was dangerous?
The ship continued to fly upward, and we approached one final tunnel.
“You’re cleared for entrance into Olympus,” a voice called in my headphones.
The ship cleared the passageway, and I felt my breathing stagger. The entire Upper Level was one building, but there seemed to be several larger buildings on top of the one massive structure. Everything was covered in shimmering blue glass that reflected light from the sun, a glowing ball that shone in the dull sky. I had never seen the sky before, or the sun. It was so bright I couldn’t look at it through the window. Clouds like the ones I had seen in drawings moved in the vast blue ocean around us. It was staggering, breathtaking, and I had the overwhelming sense of being unrestricted. Had I not known the laws of physics, I may have been scared of being sucked up into the sky, getting lost forever in the vast, endless space above.
We approached the buildings on top of the huge glass structure below, landing on a platform before the engines of the ship powered down.
“Welcome to Olympus,” Marwin said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. The door of the dropship opened, and we were escorted out by more robots. They looked like Enforcers, but were trimmed in gold metal. An insignia in the shape of a shield with decorative patterns on the interior was branded on each of them.
“This is House Zaris. You’ll have your own house soon enough. I’m to bring you to the Supreme Leader myself for introductions and your commencement. My stewards will tend to your clothing and get you dressed for the ceremony. Guards, please escort Mr. Ashton to the stewards and bring him back to my study when he is prepared.”
A robot gave him a bow and pulled my wheelchair from the dropship—I hadn’t even seen them take it from the ground back in the Slums. The bag of tea had somehow remained lodged between the seat and armrest when it had been thrown from the truck.
As I sat down, Marwin said, “You are absolved of anything that may have happened in the Slums. Your leg will be looked at again before your ceremony, and we’ll be sure you’re in good shape. I noticed it on the scanner when we found you.”
I was then wheeled off into the vast building. The floors were made out of some kind of polished white stone, and various decorations and paintings lined the high arching walls. The air was so fresh, even outside. Cold, yes, but I couldn’t sense any smog or dense gasses that made the air hard to breathe. The inside of the house was delightfully warm, and I saw a fireplace with invitin
g flames burning with an orange glow. A few women wearing dresses with the Zaris emblem passed me and gave me curious smiles as I was wheeled through in my tattered clothes. They were all wearing a variety of makeup, something that would have been very costly in the Slums. I smiled back as I passed and was moved into a smaller room filled with rolls of expensive looking fabric and various pieces of shiny metal equipment. A small man with dark skin and short hair moved from behind one of the machines and gave me a smile as I approached. He was wearing an expensive looking suit, the kind I’d seen in movies and drawings.
“Ah, you must be Jacob Ashton, soon to be Baron Ashton. I’m very excited to meet you. I am Richard Brady, Head Steward and Tailor of House Zaris. I’ll be designing your clothes for your ceremony this evening. We can always make changes later, as I imagine you’ll have your own stewards and tailors soon enough. Now, Jacob, what are your favorite colors?” he asked as he pulled a pencil from his pocket and a small paper notepad.
“Bright orange,” I said. Everything felt like a dream. Was it possible I was actually subdued somewhere else and this was some sort of projection? The memory of being trapped in the hospital within my mind was a testament to my mental abilities in creating lifelike projections.
“Hmm. How about a dark ashen gray with bright orange trimming? That would suit you nicely. It will distinguish you from House Orin, who uses dark orange,” he said as he jotted something down on the paper.
“Sure,” I responded.
“Very well. I’ll have your clothes ready in an hour. I’m sure they’ll want to take care of your grooming,” he said as I was wheeled out of the room.
