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Simia

Page 14

by Paris Singer


  “I don’t know, man,” said Sally. “The kid’s new. He doesn’t need to be part of this.”

  “What if he tells on us?” said Sova, pressing her index finger against the bottom of my chin.

  “I’d never do that,” I replied, firmly.

  “He wouldn’t, Sova,” said Sally.

  “How do you know? You’ve just met him. We took a risk bringing him here with us.”

  “I just know. Call it a feeling, like when I first met you Sova, remember? Remember when no-one trusted you?”

  “This is completely different,” she spat. “Can’t believe you brought that up.”

  “Well, you made me.”

  “Guys, stop this,” interjected Milo. “The shopkeeper will think something’s up.”

  “Then tell this guy to stop blindly trusting just anyone.”

  “I don’t just blindly—”

  “Stop,” I said. All three stopped and gazed at me in unison. I looked around and saw a ring on a shelf next to me. It seemed to glow, though no light shined on it. I picked it up, turned to make sure the shopkeeper wasn’t watching and put it in my pocket. “You don’t need to fight. I told you I’d never rat you out, and I won’t. If this helps you trust me, then I’ll do it.”

  “You don’t have to do this, kid,”

  “I want to. Sova’s right, you did take a risk bringing me here showing me what you do, so I want you to know you can trust me.”

  “This guy’s all right,” said Milo, slapping me on the back. Both Sally and Milo turned to Sova.

  “Well?” asked Sally.

  After a moment, Sova replied, “Yeah, maybe he’s okay.”

  “Good. And I don’t just trust anyone.”

  “Don’t push it,” she replied.

  “Hello?” Young ones? I believe I have collected the book files you sought,” said the shopkeeper.

  “Right on time,” said Sally, walking back toward him. “See, kid? Told you he had what you wanted, didn’t I?”

  “I make it my business to provide anyone who walks through my doors with precisely what they need, young one.” The shopkeeper’s gaze lingered on me with a knowing look and slight grin, as if there were further meaning behind his words. Could he have seen me pocket the ring? No, he couldn’t have, I’d made sure of it. I decided I was being paranoid.

  “Anything. Everything,” screeched Mr. Tabby.

  I walked up to the shopkeeper who stood beside the terminal. On the screen was a small, white blinking square. Back on the Sky Drifter, the download of book files involved slotting a thin card into a slot toward the bottom of terminals, which would transfer them onto it. Beneath the terminal at the shopkeeper’s shop was a slot, but it was too long and wide to be used for the insertion of a card.

  “What do I do?” I asked. “How do I get the files?”

  “Man, the place you’re from must be in the middle of nowhere under ground, or something,” said Milo.

  “It’s kind of an old terminal, but you seriously never used one before?” said Sally, with an air of surprise.

  Time to lie again, I thought. I hated it. “Yeah, my village is very small. There’s no real need for things like this, I guess.” I feigned a smile.

  “That’s pretty weird,” said Sally, before shrugging. “Whatever. You just put your hand in there.” He nodded to the large slot near the bottom of the terminal. “The files are downloaded onto your Portable Codex.”

  I did as instructed and, no sooner had I done so than the blinking white square vanished off the screen.

  “You can take your hand out now, kid,” grinned Sally.

  “Is there anything else I may help you with, young ones?” asked the shopkeeper. “Or do you have all you came for?”

  “I do believe that will be all,” replied Sally in a mocking accent.

  “In that case, please follow me.” The shopkeeper hovered toward the back of the shop, and Sally and I followed.

  “We’re gonna wait outside, Sal. That thing gives me the creeps,” said Milo, as he and Sova made their way out of the shop.

  “Cool, catch you soon,” replied Sally. “You’re going to love this thing inside the cage—it’s so weird.”

  We stepped through an alcove lit by the dancing flames of red candles from two candelabras in each corner. In the center was a wide wooden desk covered with many ancient-looking parchments, electronics, metals and scales. To the left of it was a large bell-shaped cage. Inside it was Mr. Tabby. Unlike the shopkeeper, he looked exactly like he had when I’d first seen him. Small in stature, he was a miniature version of the shopkeeper, though long, orange hair still dangled from both corners of his grinning mouth. His little orange eyes gazed at us from atop his elongated pointed nose while he grasped the bars with his long fingers.

  “Look at this little guy,” said Sally, resting his hands on his knees, bending to be at Mr. Tabby’s eye level.

  “Don’t get too close,” said the shopkeeper, walking to the other side of the desk. “He bites.”

  “I bite,” repeated Mr. Tabby, smiling broadly, revealing a row of sharp, silver teeth.

  “That will be three hundred and fourteen creds, young ones,” said the shopkeeper. I walked up to the desk and he placed a small, golden tablet on the desk in front of me. I picked it up and examined it.

  “Um, Sally? How do I pay?”

  With a look of impatient disbelief, Sally said, “Kid, seriously—put your hand over it.” This caused Mr. Tabby to cackle. I placed my hand over the tablet, and a glowing white band of light rose and fell across the tablet, scanning my hand. I placed it back down on the desk.

  “Thank you for your business,” said the shopkeeper, smiling. “Do come back anytime.”

  A sudden metallic crash sounded about the room. I turned to see Mr. Tabby pulling on Sally’s ear, pinning the left side of his face against the cage.

  “Let go of me, you little creep.”

  “I warned you not to get too close to him,” said the shopkeeper, chuckling.

  Sally pushed back with his hands and legs, and Mr. Tabby let him go, causing him to crash backward against the wall.

  “Stupid little—whatever you are,” cried Sally through Mr. Tabby’s raucous cackles. “I’m outta here, kid. See you outside.” Holding the back of his head, Sally marched out of the shop. I tried my best not to laugh out loud, too. The shopkeeper walked back around the desk, smiled, and extended his hand out toward the front of the shop. As I walked toward the exit, he said, “Be wary of diverging paths, young one. The easiest is seldom the wisest.”

  Confused, I turned back to him. “Why do you say that?” I asked, worried he was referencing the ring I’d taken.

  He chuckled. “It’s just something I like to say to the younger people I meet. I have seen many promising youths in my time that lost their way later on. You seem like a nice boy. Don’t lose your path.”

  I wasn’t sure what to make of his random comment and still felt unsure whether he was aware I’d stolen the ring.

  “Thank you,” I replied, unable to think of anything else to say. The shopkeeper accompanied me out of his shop.

  “Oh, wait,” I said. “I forgot something. I’ll be right back.” I ran back inside as the shopkeeper watched on. The golden tablet was still on the desk. Mr. Tabby gazed at me from within his cage, a look of amused expectation on his face. I placed my hand over the tablet, and a band of white light scanned my hand again. I hoped it had worked. Mr. Tabby and I gazed at each other for a moment.

  “Sorry,” I uttered.

  “Your future lies in your past,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, frowning, but he continued to gaze at me in silence. I ran back out of the shop, wondering if Mr. Tabby was just weird.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” asked the shopkeeper.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I replied, making my way toward the others, who were already standing on the ledge above the square. “Thank you for the files.”

&n
bsp; The shopkeeper walked back inside the shop, out of sight. I ran across the square, up the crates, and onto the ledge. As soon as I’d caught up with Sally, Milo and Sova, we continued on our way. A moment later, I heard the shopkeeper’s voice shouting something.

  “D’you hear that?” asked Milo.

  “Sounded like that old geezer,” said Sova. “Something about too much.”

  “Crazy old guy,” said Sally. “Maybe he’s saying how we took too many things from him this time, and he’s sore about it.” The others laughed. I was glad they hadn’t heard him right.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  I got back to my quarters not long after we’d left the shop. Sally, Milo and Sova had wanted me to go to a club with them somewhere in the western part of the city, but I’d passed and tried to study awhile. I’d retrieved the ring I’d taken and placed it on the table, unsure of what to do with it. The band was of a shiny, gray material that shimmered in the light, and had a glowing oval yellow gemstone in the center. I asked Al if anyone had tried to contact me, but no one had. I spent that whole afternoon reading through some Biology and Quantum Mechanics book files, falling asleep at the desk a couple times. There was so much I didn’t know. That evening I met up with Sally at the Dome, and we went to Sphere practice together. I’d been cooped up for too long, and couldn’t wait to release all the pent up energy I’d gathered. The smell of sweat and iron filled my nostrils as soon as I stepped inside the gym.

  “Seven,” Tanks greeted me shaking my hand with both of his. “How are you, kid?”

  “Good, thanks,” I smiled. There was always a friendly, competitive atmosphere at the gym, something I was grateful for.

  “What have you boys been up to? Hope you’re keeping him out of trouble, Sally,” smiled Tanks, slapping him on his back.

  “’Course, pops. All we really do is study hard, right, kid?”

  “Oh, um, yeah” I replied, awkwardly.

  “That’s what I like to hear. So, what’s it to be tonight? Practice or some cage action?”

  “I thought we’d try to get in a couple matches in the Sphere,” said Sally. “What do you think, kid?”

  My heart pounded. Practice was one thing, but actual matches in the cage was something I always looked forward to. “Yeah, sure. Let‘s—”

  “Seven.” Like a predator charging its prey, Brong hurried toward me from the other side of the gym. “Seven, today you’ll be running fifty laps around the gym.”

  “What? Why?” I asked.

  “Orders from the coach. When you’re done, do two hundred push-ups and two hundred sit-ups.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “Don’t question it—just do it. You better start now.”

  “That’s crazy, Brong,” said Tanks. “Leave the kid alone.”

  “Not my call,” he replied.

  I gazed at Brong in disbelief. What had I done wrong? It felt like I was being punished.

  “What you staring at, scrub? You deaf? I said go, go, go.” Brong clapped his hands as he stepped toward me. Whatever the reason behind the coach’s decision, it looked as if I had no choice.

  “Sorry, Sally,” I said as I ran.

  “Don’t worry, kid,” he replied, looking almost as shocked as I felt. I ran until it felt as if my lungs were on fire and I felt light-headed. The push-ups were almost impossible to complete, but I did after a few attempts. By the time I started the sit-ups, I could barely feel my body. If it hadn’t been for Tanks spurring me on, I never would have finished. The worst part was having to watch the others as they played Sphere. It seemed like the evening would never end. When I got home I could hardly walk or keep my eyes open. Sally helped me to my quarters, and I once again collapsed on my bed, exhausted.

  ***

  A month passed. There had been a couple more attacks by the Morex, the second decimating an entire city in the east. Survivors had sought refuge with friends or families that lived in unaffected areas, or were taken to temporary camps set up by the Council while they found them new homes. Simia was on constant alert, but everything resumed as it had done within a few days.

  Things at the gym went from bad to worse. I was certain that the coach, who was known only to Brong, had it in for me. Session after session Brong approached me as soon as I entered the gym with long lists of grueling exercises to do. Every inch of my body hurt for the first couple weeks. By the end of the month I wondered if there was a coach at all, suspecting Brong himself to be responsible for my misery. The academy wasn’t much better, either. Despite my attempts to improve my studies, the teachers weren’t willing to give me any slack; all but Ms. Aerifer, who was impressed with my new level of fitness.

  I spent more time with Sally, Milo, and Sova. They’d taken me shopping for new clothes, but I still wore baggy pants and boots, despite their objections. We hung out every night, going to underground Sphere matches, or passing the time hanging out on high rooftops, watching the many lights of the sleepless city below, and the moons, infinite stars and planets above. That had become one of my favorite things to do. Everything was so peaceful up there. It was somewhere I could just be. On one such night, Sova suggested they take me to a club downtown.

  “I’m not sure it’s the kid’s kind of thing, Sova,” said Sally. He was right, but I agreed to go anyway. I was tired of everything: the academy, the taxing exercises at the gym, and of waiting to hear from Alana day after day. I wanted something new, something I’d never done.

  Downtown was the place to find the trendiest hangouts. Walls were painted every color you could imagine. Some even featured advertisements ranging from enormous holographic tinea wriggling all around, to singing and dancing performers of various races standing on glowing platforms above storefronts.

  It was a fun, lively area. Bright purple Cavanghar trees that swayed to music, each decorated with lights and holographic stars, lined the street full of performers from all over the galaxy. Here was also where you could find the best street food in the city. Little, modest stands stood around the pavements or against walls between stores, with their own assortments of foods sizzling on grills, filling the air with delicious sweet and savory smells. It always made me hungry. One of the best things, and likely the reason it was so popular, was that it all was much cheaper than everywhere else and, therefore, accessible to most.

  The club, Morry’s, was among one of the most frequented places downtown. Everyone from busy workers, to criminals, mercenaries and bounty hunters hung out there. A simple pink neon sign above a single door was the only thing that drew attention to the otherwise jet black building. Two enormous gray Belluas stood on either side of the door. One of them grunted and extended his muscular arm, blocking my path to the entrance.

  “Look young,” he said in a slow drawl. “Show I.D.”

  “He’s with us,” said Milo, stepping in front of me, “so relax.” The Bellua glanced at the other one who nodded, and they both grunted, allowing me access to the club. The electronic music was deafening, and the place was packed. People danced on levitating platforms that rose and fell near the dark walls. Beneath them was the dance area, illuminated by glowing pink squares of light. A gigantic yellow holographic head of a Morex towered above the crowd. It opened its mouth wide and made to swallow them all as they screamed, only to dematerialize in an explosion of sparks and stars. Almost immediately after the track changed, the holographic projection of a monster stomped around to the music. Along the left and right walls were two shiny silver counters that ran their length where electric blue VAIAs served drinks to patrons from the huge range of multi-colored bottles that stood on shelf upon shelf behind them.

  Sally and Milo walked over to one of the bar counters, while Sova made her way to the dance floor, where an enormous, five story high wave crashed over everyone, showering them in flowers.

  “What d’you think, kid?” Sally shouted in my ear, as Milo said something to one of the VAIAs.

  “It’s awesome. I’ve never been somewhere
like this before.”

  Milo handed us a small glass of thick, fluorescent green liquid. It smelled sweet, like bragon buns.

  “What is this?” I asked. Without answering, they both raised their glasses and knocked the liquid back in one gulp. I hesitated a moment, then swallowed mine, too. It was warm going down my throat. Milo gave me a thumbs up while Sally smiled and slapped my back. A strange euphoria washed over me. “Whoa,” I said, taking a step backward, accidentally stepping on a Piktin. Small in stature, Piktins had a reputation for having quick tempers and sharp rows of teeth they were happy to use.

  “Watch it,” he cried, and punched me hard on the shin.

  “Sorry,” I shouted, just as he turned away from me. Loud as it was in the club, I could still hear Sally and Milo’s raucous laughter behind me. Milo handed me another glass of the green liquid. “It’ll make you feel better,” he shouted. I was reluctant to take it, but I did, and drank it in one gulp. Someone grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor. It was Sova. She jumped and moved to the beat of the music. Three towering holographic Simians wearing sparkling clothes danced over us as the crowd followed along to their moves.

  “Come on, dance,” shouted Sova in my ear.

  “I’ve never really tried,” I replied.

  “Here, like this.” She grabbed my wrists and moved my arms to the rhythm of the music. Where I would have been embarrassed and self-conscious in that situation, somehow I was relaxed; happy, even.

  Some time that night Sally and Milo joined a group of four Ikanians who had been sitting in the far corner of the club. Ikanians were known for their underground dealings selling weapons, or offering their services as mercenaries or assassins.

  “Who's your little friend, Milo?” asked one, leaning back on one of the plush, black leather sofas, as Sova and I sat down. Like the other three, the hood he wore shrouded half his face in shadow exposing the fiery orange-red cracks around his cheeks and jaw.

  “He’s a Sphere player, like Sally,” replied Milo.

 

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