Simia

by Paris Singer

  I ran toward Sally, jumped into a side spin, ready to bring my foot swinging down on his head. Before I had even completed a full spin, I felt a Sharp pain on my back, and the rubbery ball struck my forehead. I crashed onto the floor. Sally had anticipated my move, and had rolled down under me, kicking my back. I got to my feet, pressing my hand against it.

  “You’re getting angry and not thinking, kid. You’re a better player than that.”

  “Don’t patronize me,” I breathed, feeling winded.

  “Just tryin’ to help. You’re good. Guess you haven’t played in a while though, huh?”

  I took a deep breath, focused, and pictured Sally: his stance, his play style, his moves. I strategized. I opened my eyes. Focusing my strength on my feet I dashed toward him. He stood poised for my attack. I jumped, bringing both my arms to my right, and pressed them against my side. Sally back-flipped to my left and, as I extended my arm, bringing the ball streaming forward, he jumped toward my side with his knee raised.

  As he buried it into my ribs, I swung my elbow back as hard as I could, crashing it into Sally’s face. I landed on one knee, pain shooting up and down my body, as Sally fell to the floor.

  “Sneaky move,” he smiled, getting to his feet as he wiped blood from his nose.

  “Glad you fell for it,” I replied, standing.

  “Yeah, I really should have seen it coming,” said Sally, spitting blood on the floor. “You still need to brush up your skills, kid. You ain’t going to win with sneaky moves like those.”

  “You don’t need to tell me that,” I said, trying to stay calm. “I’ve played this game enough to know what I’m doing.”

  “Kid, relax. I’m not doubting your skills. I’m just sayin’ something about the way you play, though awesome, is strange. Like it’s old school, or something.”

  “What are you talking about? There’s only one way to play Sphere.”

  “I don’t know, I’m just sayin’.”

  “Sally’s right, kid.” I turned and saw Sally’s father, Tanks, walking toward us. “I’ve been watching you, and your style reminds me a lot of those you would have seen decades ago. Who taught you the game?”

  I had to lie again. “I’ve had a few coaches, so I can’t really remember. They came and went.”

  Tanks squinted. “Is that so?”

  I looked at him, feeling awkward. It looked as if he didn’t believe me. I hoped he wouldn’t keep asking questions.

  “Hey, man.” Milo and Sova had entered the gym and were walking toward us. I was saved.

  “Hey, dudes,” said Sally, bumping fists with them. “What took you so long? You missed all the fun.”

  “You know how it is,” said Sova, “you get into something, then you gotta be somewhere else.“

  “What fun?” asked Milo, “What happened?”

  “Our good friend Seven here landed an elbow square in my face.”

  “Not bad, man,” said Milo, looking impressed. “What, he catch you off guard, or something?”

  “Kid’s got the sneaky moves: I thought I had him, then blam—pain city. It was pretty sweet, actually.”

  “You’re not as innocent as you look,” said Sova, looking at me up and down, with a suggestive smile. “There may be hope for you, yet.”

  “I never said I was innocent,” I said, resenting the remark.

  “Whoa, stand back,” said Milo, in mock trepidation. "Don’t mess with this guy—he’ll getcha.”

  “He’s just playin’, kid,” said Sally, putting his arm around my shoulders. “It’s good that you have sneaky moves—makes you less predictable.” Milo and Sova laughed.

  “Shut up, man,” I smiled, pushing him away.

  “Come on, guys,” said Tanks, “you’ve had your fun. Leave the kid alone.”

  “He knows we’re just kiddin’, pop. Don’t you?”

  “They’re annoying, Mr. Tanks, but I do think they’re kidding.”

  “Call me Tanks, please, kid. Don’t make me sound old.”

  “Sorry—Tanks.”

  “Better. All right, I know these three like to play around sometimes, but if you say you’re cool with it, that’s cool with me.”

  “What do you mean we like to play around sometimes, pop? We’re innocent, I swear.”

  Tanks laughed. “Yeah, you’re all as innocent as I was at your age.”

  “Not sure what you mean,” said Sova sitting on the floor.

  “Sure you don’t,” replied Tanks, and he walked away, back toward a group of Sphere players.

  “What d’you want to do?” Milo asked, Sally. “Still gonna play, or you want to come with us, do somethin’ else. Have a little fun.”

  “Think I’m going to keep practicing with Seven. What do you say, kid? You want to go again?”

  “If your face can take it,” I replied.

  “He got you there, Sal,” said Milo, and all three of them laughed.

  “Bring it on, kid,” said Sally, with a defiant tone.

  “Okay, man, we’re out of here,” said Milo. “Catch you later, yeah?”

  “You guys are boring anyway,” added Sova, standing up.

  Sally and I got straight back into practicing. It bothered me how I struggled against him. In the world that was built for me aboard the Sky Drifter, I rarely had a tough time against opponents. Except for One, of course. Now, in the real world, things were much tougher. Despite Sphere having been made illegal, new techniques had been developed. I knew Sally was right: I wouldn’t be able to rely on underhanded moves to win. If I had any chance of winning, I’d have to learn, and improve the way I played tenfold. Sally and I headed back to the academy later that evening. We’d made arrangements to meet the following day so he could show me where to buy the book files I needed. As it was a break day, there were no lessons, so we didn’t have to rush to get there.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  I opened my eyes, feeling as if I’d slept an age. “Al?”

  “Yes, Seven?”

  “You didn’t say your usual, annoying ‘It’s time to wake, Seven’ bit.”

  “It is break day, Seven. My daily reminders are only active on class days. You could always adjust my settings to wake you every day if you like?”

  “No, no, that’s okay. So, are there any annoying things I have to do today?”

  “You are free to do as you please, Seven.”

  “Excellent,” I said, sitting up in bed. “Did anyone try to contact me last night while I was gone?” I said, thinking of Alana.

  “No, Seven. There have been no communications.”

  “Oh. Al, I need to find out which book files I need for my lessons. I will go buy them today.”

  “All subject book files are listed in the codex, Seven. To access them simply say, ‘subject book files list’.”

  “Cool, thanks. What time is it?”

  “It is eleven minutes past twelve.”

  “Oh, man.” I had told Sally I’d meet him at the atrium at twelve. I jumped out of bed, threw my boots on, and rushed out the door.

  ***

  “Where the cric have you been, kid? I was just starting to think you weren’t coming.”

  “Sorry, man, I only just woke up.”

  “That’s cool, I guess. So, you ready, or what?”

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  “Hey,” said Sally. “How come you always in the same clothes? You attached to them, or something?”

  “I haven’t had the chance to get new ones since I got here, that’s all. I don’t even know where to go.”

  “You need help with that, too?” asked Sally, raising his brow.

  “Yes, kind of.”

  “Man. Well, looking like that can’t be helping your reputation much. Guess you like the retro thing, huh?”

  “Wait, what reputation?”

  “You know, kids think you’re weird.”

  “Weird? Why?”

  “Kid, you turn up from nowhere, no one knows who you are, you dress like my gran
dpa. See what I’m saying? Weird.”

  “So, why are you talking to me, then?”

  “They all think I’m weird, too, ‘cos I don’t want to hang out with any of them. They think I’m a loner,” he scoffed. “Us weirdos gotta stick together, right?” He laughed and slapped my back. “All right, enough of this. We gotta go. Told Milo and Sova we’d meet them at the park’s entrance.”

  We walked along the long bridge, into the dense, floral park. On the other side, leaning against a wall, Milo and Sova waited.

  “Why d'you fools make us wait so long?” spat Sova.

  “Yeah, we’ve been waiting hours here,” added Milo.

  “Forgot what time we said, but you definitely haven’t been waiting here hours,” said Sally.

  “Minutes, then. Same thing.” Milo and Sally bumped fists. When Sally extended his fist to Sova, she rolled her eyes.

  “That’s cold, Sova,” said Sally. “That’s cold.”

  “Don’t be late, then. One more minute, and I was gone.”

  “How you doin’, Seven?” asked Milo, extending his fist toward me. A warm feeling of acceptance washed over me as I bumped his fist. “Good, thanks.”

  “Enough of the chit-chat,” said Sova. “Let’s go. Getting bored.”

  The city was as busy as I’d always seen it. Vehicles whizzed in and out of traffic, landing or taking off at speed. The sidewalks were even busier as people of all races and colors rushed here and there, in and out of stores, on their way to somewhere. I’d never been in a city like it. Structures were as high and diverse as they were ornate and colorful. In the sunny sky, white marble buildings shone just as bright as gold, silver and jade ones; opal, ruby and emerald inlays within glinted like they were winking.

  “Ugh, let’s get to the roofs,” said Sova. “Can’t stand all this noise.”

  “Yeah, all these people are cramping my style,” agreed Milo.

  “Goes without saying,” added Sally.

  We walked along the pavement and up steps that led to a covered bridge. They were split by a see-through barrier running along them. The right side had a white neon hologram of an arrow pointing up. We climbed the steps and, no sooner had we reached the top, than we were propelled forward across the bridge to the other side at such speed that for a split second I was on both sides at once. We followed the holographic arrow down the steps, and walked up a dark, empty alleyway. The hubbub continued to fade until the only sounds were of our footsteps on the ground underfoot, and the rapid clacking of tiny scurrying creatures as they hid behind rusted containers and boxes.

  “Up you go, kid,” said Sally, nodding to a pipe Sova was already climbing.

  “A pipe? Wouldn’t it be easier to find some stairs?”

  “It’s not always an option. Not too hard for you, is it?”

  It looked daunting. The pipe was narrow, and there seemed to be few footholds, if any. Sova had made it to a ledge halfway up, and Milo wasn’t far behind. I didn’t want to let on that I wasn’t sure I couldn’t do it, especially as they’d climbed it with such ease.

  “For you, maybe,” I replied, feigning confidence.

  Sally laughed. “Fair enough, kid. After you,” he bowed.

  I made it about a third of the way on my first attempt, but fell hard into a puddle of dirty water, making the others laugh. Those guys were obnoxious at times though the annoyance ensured I made it the second time.

  When Sally joined us, we walked around the building to another one using a makeshift walkway out of some old scaffolding we found on a lower rooftop. The further we walked into the city, the quieter it became. Had it not been for the sky-scraping buildings all around us serving as a reminder of where we were, I could have imagined myself standing on a deserted landscape if I had closed my eyes.

  We reached an area that seemed out of place within the city. Single story shacks made of painted wood and corrugated roofs stood in four rows around a square. In the center of it were small stone statues at the feet of purple and red trees. The area was silent and had a relaxing atmosphere.

  “Is this really the only place I can get the book files?” I said, as we made our way down from a high ledge, onto a stack of white crates.

  “Nope,” began Sally. “It’s just the weirdest one.”

  “What’s weird about it?”

  “Yeah, you’ll see what I mean.”

  “‘Sides, we don’t do crowds,” added Sova.

  We stepped onto the gray stone slabs and headed to a shack on the other side of the square. A breeze blew through the rustling trees, and the tinkling of bells filled the cool air.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  Something felt familiar about the shack though I’d never seen it. Plaques of various sizes, shapes and languages adorned the shop’s jade and red front. Once inside, the air became thick with the smell of pungent incense. The only source of light other than the many red and yellow candles, was a wall fan, whose slowly rotating blades cast moving silhouettes within. Bizarre knickknacks and ornaments filled haphazardly placed dark wooden display shelves while three dusty terminals whose blue screens flickered without end lined the right wall.

  “There’s people in he-ere,” sang a voice in a shrill pitch from somewhere at the back of the shop. Like the shop, the voice seemed familiar.

  “I’m not deaf, yet, you know,” grumbled and groaned another voice. There was no doubt about it, I’d heard those voices before, somewhere. It was on the tip of my tongue, teasing my mind, when from the shadows I saw to whom the second voice belonged: it was the shopkeeper I’d once met aboard the Sky Drifter. It was strange to see them there. I realized then that all the simulated people aboard the ship had real lives and had lived and grown older from the versions I’d encountered.

  “Hello, young ones. How may I help you today?”

  It was him, but he appeared much older. Both his bald silver head and face were wrinkled, with the latter bearing deep scars along the left side of his chin, face and forehead. Long orange hair dangled from the right corner of his large mouth, but no longer did it from the left. I wondered if the smaller version of himself, whose name had been Mr. Tabby, would still be in the cage. I hoped he would.

  “Hey, ol’ man,” said Sally in a jovial tone. The shopkeeper shifted his bright orange gaze to Sally and he squinted as if to better see him.

  “Oh, it’s you again,” he said, in a weak tone. “It is pleasant to see you, though I wonder if you will purchase anything this time.”

  Sally laughed. “I might just. But I’m here today so you can help this guy.” He threw his arm around my shoulders again.

  “Ah, I understand, yes. What is it you are looking for?”

  “He’s in the market for some book files,” said Sally.

  “Book files?” The shopkeeper caressed the long hair that hung from the corner of his mouth. “Book files?”

  Mr. Tabby cackled. “You don’t know. You don’t know.”

  “Of course I know,” replied the shopkeeper, frowning and puffing his cheeks. “I know everything I have ever stocked and sold.”

  “Nya, nya, nya,” Mr. Tabby said, and continued to cackle from somewhere in the back.

  “Now then,” said the shopkeeper, “what was it you wanted?”

  “Book files. I think I can get them from these terminals,” I said, pointing to them.

  “Ah, yes. Book files.”

  I wondered how much longer we’d be there, trying to get what I needed. I looked around the shop and saw Sova pick something up from a shelf and place it quickly inside one of her pockets.

  “Hey,” I said, nudging Sally, “did you see—”

  “Hey,” he exclaimed, “tell the shopkeeper which book files you’re looking for. I’m sure he’ll have them all. Won’t you?”

  “Oh, naturally, yes,” replied the shopkeeper, with an air of confusion. I told him all the files I needed for every subject.

  “You got all that?” asked Sally.

  “I haven’t forgo
tten a single thing in over two hundred years, young one.” The sound of Mr. Tabby’s cackles came once again from somewhere at the back of the shop, much to the shopkeeper’s clear annoyance.

  “Awesome,” replied Sally. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Just tell us when they’re ready.” His arm around my shoulders Sally led me away from the shopkeeper, toward where Sova and Milo were standing, near the entrance.

  “You almost blew it, kid,” said Sally in a low tone.

  “You’re stealing?” I whispered.

  “That a problem?” said Milo in a low, deep voice.

  “Told ya this kid was soft,” said Sova.

  “Listen, kid,” began Sally, furrowing his brow, “this city’s expensive—the most expensive in all of Simia.”

  Sova huffed. “You can say that again.”

  “It’d be nice if the little luxuries of life were easily reached by your average Joes but, in this city anyways, only the few rich can live well. Everyone else has to struggle. You get me? We do what we gotta do to make it.”

  “Got no choice,” added Milo.

  “What about your parents? They work, right?” All three gave a hollow laugh.

  “Only work pops can get in this place is moving crates from one place to another all day, and that only just pays the bills, kid. And Sova and Milo’s folks are dead or missing.”

  “Missing?”

  “Bounty hunters,” said Milo. “Can’t even remember what my mom sounds like.”

  “So, you see, kid? We got no other choice. It’s easier for me, ‘cos pop insists I go to that academy, but Milo and Sova, they gotta eat somehow.”

  “Can’t the Council do anything to help?” The atmosphere turned as dark as the expressions on their faces.

  “Don’t even mention those…” said Milo through gritted teeth, while Sova spat on the floor.

  “We don’t talk about them. They’re the reason Simia’s the way it is. All they’re interested in is filling their fat pockets while everyone else has to fight to live. They’re don’t care ‘bout anything else.”

  “If I ever get my hands on them..:” said Sova, cracking her knuckles.

  “I think Seven should take something,” said Milo. “If he’s going to be one of us, he should be like us, right?”