Citadel: The Concordant Sequence

by Matthew S. Cox

  Again, she ran around to every door, battering her scrawny body into them one after the next, but couldn’t get any room to open. No one came running to check out all the noise she made, so she figured she’d wound up somewhere truly alone―and trapped. She had no way to escape this corridor. Out of breath, she dragged herself back to the maintenance passage hatch and sat on the floor, letting her legs dangle in the hole. A droplet of clear goop fell from her toes every few seconds.

  “The tunnel kept going… Stay together, Kier. It’s a level map, right? You haven’t explored everywhere. Maybe there’s another hatch. It looked long enough to go under those metal doors.”

  After a momentary rest, she climbed down below the floor again and faced the corridor where she hadn’t gone. Hands balled into fists, she strode forward, trying to ignore fear and doubt. The only thing that made any sense pointed back to it being a crazy dream. She remembered a chapter in that book about dream triggers, something for her to find, do, or see that would end it and let her wake up. Hours of wandering this place could be only moments in reality.

  Kiera scurried ahead to the next corner and into warmer air. She didn’t hesitate, barreling around it at a brisk jog. A short spur ended a mere ten feet later at a dead end covered in electrical component boxes. No hatches up. She started to slouch in defeat, but spotted a square ventilation cover on the left wall.

  “Wow, I didn’t think places really had those.”

  She crept over and knelt in front of it, peering between the slats at a metal duct. Warm air blew over her face, strong enough to tease a few strands of drying hair about. Breathing tasted like dirt and the outside, as well as a faint chemical twang. A bit of determined tugging got the vent cover to come loose. She set it to the side before crawling into a dusty shaft. Five feet away, the air duct turned a left corner. A few feet past the turn, a dead fan drifted in the breeze. She lay flat on her belly, grimacing at the sensation of semidry slime squishing under her. It did, however, help her slide. She squirmed between two blades, sucking in a sharp breath when a metal edge scraped her hip.

  “Ow.” She rubbed the spot, relieved not to find blood.

  After a long crawl, the duct ended at a T-junction. Since the warm air blew in from the right, she went in that direction. Another fan-squeeze and about thirty yards of crawling later, the vent turned a corner straight up.

  She whined in frustration before she looked, but did so anyway. Her hope bloomed at the sight of a patch of sunlight at the top of a shaft. Another dormant fan sat at the midway point, low enough to reach. On tiptoe, she stretched until she got her fingers around the struts holding the fan in place.

  Thanks for taking me to that climbing place, Dad.

  Kiera froze, hands over her head gripping the bar while staring at the blank steel wall. “If that was all fake, whoever put me in there wanted me to practice climbing.” She shivered. “Oh shut up. I sound like crazy Uncle Kyle.”

  With a soft grunt, she pulled herself up. The sides of the duct offered little traction for her feet, which mostly slipped on the smooth metal. Grunting, she wriggled up to the fan brace, lifted one knee onto it, and grabbed the walls for support. After easing her left leg up, she planted her foot on the middle of the motor and stood, wobbling. The fan mount sagged under her weight, but held.

  Sunlight warmed the steel not far over her head and the wind sounded close. The shape of the duct above suggested it bent downward at an angle. One more pull-up and she might be able to slide to freedom.

  Kiera grinned. “Well, that was a messed-up dream. I’m going to wake up as soon as I get outside.”

  4

  Born of Earth

  Kiera stared at the ledge over her head, hoping it offered escape. With any luck, only a few feet of duct stood between her and waking up. Heck, she’d even be thrilled to go back to school. She rubbed her hands together and waved them around, trying to dry them of the annoying slime. If her grip failed, she’d have a painful landing on the fan, probably cut herself, and… oh forget it, only a dream.

  She crouched, took a breath, and leapt straight up. Her hands came down on the metal ridge with a loud boom. The sharp angle of the duct hurt to grab, but she refused to let go. Warm, dusty metal scratched at her chest as she pulled herself up inch by inch with arm power alone. Hazy sunlit dirt waited for her at the end of a short down-angled tunnel, barely six feet away. Once she got her hips past the edge, she reached a balance point that let her rest. She struggled to lift a leg up, but the shaft didn’t give her enough room. Her knee kept bumping the wall and, unless a joint spontaneously developed in the middle of her thigh, she couldn’t brace her knee on the ledge.

  Before her arms gave out, she let herself tilt forward and lay flat, nudging herself along by kicking her legs. Gravity pulled her the rest of the way in without warning. She slid down and crashed face-first into a soft mesh cover, crumpled into a tangled heap of arms and legs. Outside ground sat a short distance below, beach sand from the look of it.

  “Oof!”

  She pushed at the edges, but the panel didn’t give. A few punches broke a tear in the screen, and she forced one hand into the hole, then the other. Ripping and pulling, she stretched the thin material apart until her weight caused her to ooze out into the day. A brief yelp of victory started, but cut short when she stopped, her hips snagged. Kiera dangled upside down, her fingertips inches from the pale beige sand. Her slime-matted hair fell around her, blocking her view of everything other than straight down.

  “Argh! This sucks.”

  Her feet slipped over the featureless duct walls, offering no help. Grunting, she braced her hands against the vent and struggled to pull herself out. Twisting side to side, she kicked and bounced until the screen ripped wider and she fell to the dirt like a gangly newborn foal―complete with a coating of slime.

  “Ow.” She curled into a ball on her side, unsure if she wanted to grab where the wire mesh scratched on her way out or cradle the spot a rock got her in the back when she landed.

  A few seconds later, the heat registered to her mind. It had to be over ninety. After freezing for so long, she basked in it. She sat up, pulled her hair off her face, and stood in the shadow of a ruined high-rise building, gazing up at a battered concrete and stone edifice. Past the fourth story, only tangled steel beams remained.

  Her eyes adjusted to the bright light after a short while, leaving her squinting at endless open sands. Here and there, dark spots hinted at ruins, scraps of old cities on the horizon. A fragment of a nightmare came back to her. She remembered Dad’s e-car screeching to a halt by the front doors of her parents’ office, Citadel Corporation’s main headquarters in San Antonio. They’d taken her there late at night, refusing to say why, other than she had to be good and listen to them. Her parents didn’t even give her time to change out of the giant T-shirt she slept in.

  But this couldn’t be the Citadel office… it had been in the middle of a big city.

  Why didn’t I wake up when I got out? As soon as she burst out of the vent, the dream should’ve ended! Kiera shuddered at the tickle of clear slime running down her back. She stared at the vent she’d fallen from, jutting out of a weathered stone wall at head level. A Citadel Corporation logo adorned the opening, a flat-topped pyramid with ‘CC’ engraved inside.

  Overhead, an angry mass of thick, dark clouds blotted out the sky. No direct sunlight reached the ground, and though bright compared to the place she’d crawled out of, the day was much dimmer than the world outside the school windows.

  “No way…” She twisted around to gaze out over the desert. Swirls of sand danced in the wind. Far off, the distant sky appeared black where a standing wall of cloud blocked off the horizon. “What the heck? This better be a dream…” Again, she looked down at herself. Smears of brown marked her side and leg where she’d touched the ground. She squeegeed it off with her hand. “I’m in real big trouble if this isn’t in my head.”

  Scuffing startled her.

&nbs
p; Kiera leapt back, flattening herself against the scratchy, hot building. Distinct footsteps approached. She glanced around, but other than climbing the wall behind her or the massive piles of dirt to either side, she had nowhere to hide.

  Expecting this to be the part of the nightmare where the monster found her, she trembled.

  The head of an older man with dark skin appeared some distance in front of her, the rest of him rising into view as he ascended a hill out of the desert. Grey highlighted his afro, beard, and the hair covering his bare chest. A piecemeal skirt made of thin aluminum strips and bits of plastic, like chunks of old computers affixed to dingy canvas, clattered around his legs. Many wristwatches covered his left forearm most of the way to the elbow, and on his right, he wore a shroud of plastic fashioned into an arm guard, still with a Panasonic logo. A massive amount of necklaces dangled in front of his chest, most made of electrical cables as well as a string of DVDs glinting in the sunlight. Computer chips, resistors, and other tiny components decorated his beard. A crown of scrap metal, two wings stretching to either side studded with more computer chips and random shiny baubles, gleamed atop his head.

  He came to a halt a few paces from where she stood flattened against the building, and smiled. “Child of the Earth….”

  Kiera stared at his feet, also bare. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye―too ashamed. I shouldn’t talk to a stranger, but… I’m alone out in the desert with nothing. If he doesn’t hurt me, being out here alone will. She blushed. Lack of clothes caused conflict, a reason to seek help as well as avoid being seen. After a few seconds, fear of being alone won out and she decided to talk rather than run off screaming. “What do you want? Who are you?”

  “Child of Earth, why does your face change to match your hair? I have never seen such magic before.”

  She bit her lip, trying to cover herself with her hands as much as she could. “I… Uhh….”

  “Perhaps because you are so pale?” All the junk in his hair rattled as he tilted his head.

  “Why are you calling me Child of Earth?” She managed to glance up at his face for a few seconds before shame made her bow her head again.

  “He has sent me to find you, child.” The man raised his arms to the sky in a dramatic pose, holding it for a few seconds before lowering them. “I have come to aid you. He told me you shall be born of the Earth this day. Come, child. Fear not.”

  After a long hesitation, she forced herself to look at him, face burning. He approached closer, but she couldn’t lean away with stone at her shoulders.

  “The planet has born you unto the world.” He traced a finger across her shoulder, rubbing the clear slime between his thumb and forefinger after raising his hand. “I have witnessed your arrival, a difficult birth. You are still covered in it.”

  This guy is nuts. She forced herself to stop cringing. A little crazy, but he didn’t seem dangerous. “I wasn’t just born. I crawled out of a vent. I’m eleven, not a baby.”

  “You are born to us this day, fresh from the womb of the Earth.” The old man gazed upward.

  Kiera sighed, finding it odd he hadn’t reacted at all to her lack of clothing. That part, she did have in common with a newborn. “Can I please have something to wear?”

  “Follow me, child. I believe I have some cloth at my cave from which I shall fashion something for you if you desire.”

  “Yes, I desire.” She squinted. Why does he talk funny? “Y-you want me to go with you? B-but I don’t have anything on.”

  “Neither do the Sand Striders.” The old man chuckled, wrinkles around his eyes deepening.

  She scrunched up her nose. “What? Is that a creature or something?”

  “A tribe. The Striders live in the south, near the Torment. They have no animals from which to make hides and dwell too far from the Citadel to trade.”

  “Tribes? There’s tribes? But this is America.” She glanced back at the building. “That’s the Citadel Corporation… if I’m not having a big nightmare.”

  “America?” He blinked. “Truly, you are the Child of Earth come to save us. You speak in riddles beyond the understanding of man.”

  Oh boy… he’s been in the sun too long. “My name’s Kiera, not ‘child.’ Who are you, and how far away is your cave?”

  He walked off in the direction he’d come from. “I am Legacy. We will reach my home in a few days’ travel.”

  Kiera gasped. “A few days? You want me to stay like this for days?”

  Legacy paused, glancing back over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Stay like what? Is this not your true form?”

  “Never mind.” She bit her lip, gazing out over the endless, swirling sand. Of course! That stupid video in class about the tribes… It’s affecting my dream. Ugh, I hope I don’t have to fight a truck with a spear.

  “This is a great day,” said Legacy, resuming his walk.

  Umm, maybe for you. She hurried to catch up, keeping pace two steps behind him. A constant wind from the right warmed and dried her. “Is this real or am I having a bad dream?”

  “As real as you or I.” Legacy chuckled. “What else would it be?”

  “I was in school this morning, but I stayed up too late so I took a nap. I think I’m having a nightmare, but I don’t usually talk to my nightmares.”

  They descended a long, sloping hill of sand, following a path of footprints that disappeared into the desert a good ways off. A traffic light stuck up out of the dirt, its top only tall as her waist. Kiera stared at the rusty metal, wondering how long it had been there. She waved her arms for balance, slipping and skidding down the dune to the flat sand at the bottom.

  “What is ‘school?’” asked Legacy.

  Kiera stepped over a bit of concrete studded with sharp rebar spikes and paused to breathe. It had only been minutes since they started walking, but already, sweat coated her from head to toe. “It’s a place where kids have to go to learn. There’s teachers and lab projects and stuff. It can be fun sometimes, but mostly it’s boring or difficult. It’s overcrowded, too. Most of my classes have like, thirty kids.”

  “I find that difficult to imagine.” Legacy chuckled. “There are barely ten children in any one village. What is a teacher?”

  “A person who teaches.”

  He shook his head, making his crown clatter. “You’ve answered my question with the word I asked about. That does not tell me anything.”

  Kiera ran her hands through her slimy hair, ready to growl in frustration. “A teacher… Ugh. They like know stuff. Math, science, other languages… and it’s their job to help us learn.”

  “Ahh, so they are your parents.”

  “No… not even close. They just teach us for a couple of hours, then we go home.”

  “Do they not nurture and guide you?” Legacy glanced at her without breaking stride.

  Kiera fanned herself, gazing up at the overcast sky. Powerful sun on the other side of the clouds made the thin parts glow around roiling dark billows. It’s so hot… “I guess, but not the same way as parents. Teachers don’t love us. In fact, some teachers hate kids.”

  “I cannot understand that.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, it doesn’t make sense. Why get a job as a teacher if you hate kids?”

  “Job…” He blinked at her. “What is that?”

  “Oh, wow. You don’t know much do you?” She huffed. “A job is something that makes you leave your kid home alone all day long, but you get money for it. Most people hate them, but don’t have a choice.”

  Legacy laughed. “I know far more than many. I seek the knowledge that time has no further use for, but may once again come to rely on… if he is correct.”

  “I have to be dreaming.” She plodded on, staring down at her feet sinking to the ankle with each step in the soft silt. “Is this even sand? It feels like powder.”

  “We tread upon the ground up bones of what once was.”

  She squinted up at him. “Like cities? My parents’ house is i
n the suburbs of San Antonio.”

  “Suburbs?”

  “Ugh. Really?” She scowled at the sky for a few paces before taking a deep breath and chattering about her home, her parents, her school, her friend Ashleigh, this boy Marlon who might like her but was too chicken to say anything, and how much she hated her robotics class, since the teacher gave hard tests.

  Legacy pondered for a while in silence as they walked. He opened a satchel on his hip and removed a square water bottle about the size of a soda can. After taking a drink, he offered it to her. “Drink a sip or two. We must make it last.”

  She took the bottle. “Thanks.” The unexpected warmth of the water almost made her choke, but she recovered and gulped down a few mouthfuls before forcing herself to stop. The taste of plastic lingered on her tongue. “Bleh.”

  He put the bottle back in the bag. “You have a most vivid imagination to craft such a tale.”

  “You think I’m making that up?”

  “Or dreamed it.” He chuckled.

  “Okay.” She hurried a few paces to get in front of him and stopped. “You said some magic voice told you to come find me, and expect me to believe that… but you don’t believe that schools and houses exist?”

  Legacy smiled a grandfatherly smile at her and patted her on the head. “You were right where he said you would be, were you not?” He gestured at the endless sands. “Look around you, Kiera. How else would I have been at that place at the moment of your birth?”

  She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to argue. Vast nothingness surrounded her in every direction filled with pale brown silt and the occasional hunk of concrete. Also, her emergence did bear a rather striking resemblance to birth, even down to a giant artificial womb, being covered in slime, and getting stuck on the way out. As she stared up at him, a flash of memory returned: she slid backward, butt-first into the tank, Mom holding her hand. The clear goo hadn’t been cold then, only room temperature―which made it even more disgusting. A woman in a white coat approached with a syringe that would make her sleep. Another man held the breathing mask ready. Panicked tears and whining followed.