by Tara Basi
“Idiot. They’re cartoons, on memory chips. Don’t you know what gum is?”
Battery Boy shook his head.
Stuff gave Battery Boy a sad pitying look and carried on stripping the rack bare before moving on to the next. “Wow, movies.”
“How’d you know about this place?” Battery Boy asked.
“There’s screens in the base, full of info. I did some digging, that’s all.”
Battery Boy was impressed. Like a mini locust swarm, Stuff finished emptying the area in a couple of minutes. Then he turned his attention to a row of metal poles topped with large glass balls. Each was filled with smaller, brightly coloured, plastic spheres. There was a whole line of the odd things up against the railings at the edge of the mezzanine floor.
“Gum,” Stuff said and rushed forward.
Battery Boy couldn’t understand why Stuff found any of these things so exciting but at least he was keeping his voice down. The quiet didn’t last for long. In his excitement Stuff tripped over his own feet and bowled into the gum poles. They crashed into the railings, tottered and fell. Stuff carried on sliding right under the railings leaving him hanging over the edge and staring down at the floor below. He gasped in terror as he scrambled for some sort of purchase but his struggles were only taking him closer to the tipping point that would send him crashing down.
Battery Boy rushed forward, grabbed his ankles and dragged him away from the precipice. The poles lay scattered across the floor, gently rolling about aimlessly. Despite his near escape Stuff couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing at a nearby pole and pulling it towards him as Battery Boy dragged him away. Stuff seemed to be completely focused on his precious gum. Battery Boy was about to scold Stuff for his clumsiness when the gum pole slipped from Stuff’s grasp, wobbled and fell. Its plastic bowl broke free and slowly rolled across the floor towards the mezzanine edge and tumbled over onto a rack of glassware below. The crashing and smashing noises echoed on and on, bouncing off the walls and shutters. When the noise abated Stuff turned to Battery Boy, about to say “Sorry,” when there was another noise. A bad noise. A noise neither he nor Stuff recognised. Something huge shot out of the shadows directly towards the fallen plastic bowl.
Battery Boy grabbed Stuff and pulled him back from the railing. Instinct kicked in and the two boys retreated as far away as they could into the darkness. “Aliens? An Owner?” Battery Boy whispered, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. Stuff was quivering with terror.
“Owners? What are we going to do,” Stuff panted.
Whatever had shot out of the shadows on the floor below, could be heard skidding across the smooth surface and crashing into something solid. Wood splintered and there were more smashing sounds and loud bangs. Gradually the noises of destruction subsided, to be replaced by the quieter sound of something big and heavy moving around in a more deliberate manner, like it was searching for something. The monster was patrolling the floor beneath them. Did it know they were up here? Why hadn’t it come up the stairs?
Even if the creature didn’t come up the stairs that remained the only way out for the two boys. Battery Boy decided to sneak a look. He signalled for Stuff to stay put and keep quiet. Stuff didn’t need much encouragement to stay in the shadows. Battery Boy carefully crawled towards the railing and looked out over the edge. Below, the monster immediately spun in his direction and reared up, trying to grab him before he could react. He was only just out of its reach. Battery Boy rolled away as quickly as he could and re-joined a trembling Stuff. His abortive scouting trip had taken only seconds.
“Is it an Owner? An alien?” Stuff asked, his voice trembling with fear.
“It’s an animal I think. Never seen one like it before. It’s huge.”
Stuff breathed a long sigh of relief, “I thought we were going to be Banded and Blocked.”
“No, we’re just gonna be eaten.”
Stuff smiled and started to get to his feet, “A new animal. I want to see it.”
Battery Boy put his hand on Stuff’s chest and pushed the boy back down, “Wait till it’s calmer.”
“What colour is it? You sure it’s not a dog?”
Battery Boy might not know much about animals, but he knew a dog when he saw one. “It isn’t a damn dog. It was up on two legs. The thing is twice the size of Jugger.”
Stuff shook his head, “A gorilla? No. Couldn’t be. Maybe?”
“What the hell’s a gorilla?”
“They don’t come from here, but maybe it escaped from a zoo? Or a circus?”
Battery Boy had no idea what Stuff was talking about. What he understood was that to get past the creature they would need to know something more about it. Reluctantly, he’d have to let Stuff take a look. The creature wasn’t making as much noise now and had either settled down to wait for them or had got bored and wandered off. Which meant it wasn’t hungry, or at least not yet.
Stuff slithered towards the edge of the floor while Battery Boy kept hold of his ankles, ready to pull him back if the monster attacked. Battery Boy nervously waited for Stuff’s signal, while the little boy stared, fascinated and finally mute, at the mysterious creature below. Eventually Battery Boy lost patience and pulled a silently protesting Stuff away.
“Did you see the thing, what is it?”
“It’s beautiful Battery Boy. Beautiful. It’s a fully grown brown bear.”
“What’s a bear?”
“They don’t usually come this far south.”
“Will it eat us?”
“They mainly eat berries and moths and pine nuts.”
“So it won’t try to eat us?”
“They… scavenge. Maybe, sometimes, they’ll eat dead animals and… things like that.”
“Like us?”
“Well. If it’s really, really hungry, and there aren’t any nuts or berries. Maybe. If it’s angry, it might… kill us… accidentally.”
“Will it come up the stairs?”
“I think it’s just scared.”
Battery Boy had a sudden realisation. The bear must have made the hole in the back door, the same one they’d come through, and then become trapped when the racking fell over behind it. He drew his sidearm and removed the safety.
Stuff felt the movement and heard the noise. “No. Please, Battery Boy. We can’t kill it. We need to help it get out.”
Even if Battery Boy didn’t agree, he was pretty sure he’d only annoy the bear if he somehow managed to shoot it. He decided he needed to take another look for himself. Battery Boy crawled to the edge in time to see the bear shuffle away, heading deeper in to the Store. It looked bigger than he remembered. Unless he hit it in the head and the bullet managed to penetrate its skull, he didn’t think he could kill it with his sidearm. A single blow from one of its big paws would probably kill him and cut scrawny Stuff in half.
Battery Boy retreated into the shadows. “How are we supposed to help it out?”
Stuff didn’t answer. Instead, he crawled towards the railing again and gingerly surveyed the floor below. After a while Stuff crawled back. “It’s gone off somewhere. There’s a broken shutter, over in the corner. Maybe the bear did it?”
“Is it open?”
“Yeah, but not enough. We need to roll it up.”
Battery Boy didn’t like that idea. It might be jammed. If they went downstairs and started making any noise the bear would likely rip them to pieces. “It’s too risky, we’ll wait a while then we’ll sneak out the way we came in. It won’t be able to follow us.”
“No. Battery Boy we’ve got to help the bear.”
Battery Boy was surprised, Stuff’s default state was scared and running from danger. “How?”
“Follow me,” Stuff said, and off he went. Battery Boy was relieved to see Stuff wasn’t heading for the railing, but instead was moving further away, deeper into the shadows. The bear had gone quiet, and it didn’t seem interested in climbing the stairs. Not yet, anyway. It felt safe to use their torches. St
uff shone his at a large sign, Mickey’s Kitchen. “There.”
Battery Boy was no more informed about what Stuff was up to. He doubted there’d be anything edible, though there might be water. Battery Boy realised he was thirsty and he wanted to save what they had for the return journey to Central Park. While Stuff searched for whatever he was looking for, Battery Boy climbed over a counter to see what he could find. Against a wall he discovered a glass cabinet full of plastic bottles. He grabbed a few that were obviously water and stuffed them into his backpack. Where had Stuff got to? As he scanned the darkness he caught sight of Stuff’s winking torch and made his way in that direction. Stuff was coming towards him clutching a cardboard box full of little black squares of paper.
“Got it, let’s go.”
“Got what?”
Stuff ignored Battery Boy and headed back towards the railing. He peered over the edge and studied the area carefully. Battery Boy was getting very irritated with Stuff. What was the idiot up to?
“Look BB, you know things and I trust you. Right?”
“Get on with it.”
“Well, I know animals and you’ve got to trust me. Right?”
“Wrong. Tell me what you’re planning.”
“You won’t believe me. Look, we’ll creep downstairs, you’ll open the shutter and I’ll… keep the bear away.”
Battery Boy shook his head, “How you gonna keep that huge monster away?”
“You’ve got to trust me Battery Boy. You just got to. Please.”
Stuff looked like he was going to explode or burst into tears. Battery Boy took a look over the railing. The bear wasn’t directly below and he couldn’t see it anywhere else. “Fine, let’s do it, but I’m shooting that bear if you can’t keep it off me.”
“Wait a minute, I need to get ready.”
Stuff’s preparations didn’t make any sense to Battery Boy. The younger boy covered his nose and mouth with a scarf and indicated Battery Boy should do the same. For now, Battery Boy decided, he’d humour his friend. With their faces covered, Stuff started tearing open the little paper squares from his box and emptying a black powder into two small jars. When he’d filled them both he said, “If it comes don’t move, don’t run. I’ll stop it.”
Battery Boy wasn’t convinced. With his pistol in his hand and Stuff clutching his pair of jars, they cautiously descended the stairs and crept towards the damaged shutter. The heavy metal curtain was bowed out. It had been ripped clear of its floor locks, leaving a narrow gap big enough to slip a hand under. The bear must have charged it. With Stuff standing look out, Battery Boy put down his gun, bent his knees and put two hands under the shutter. He pulled hard and the metal screeched like a dying cat. Immediately he grabbed his gun and spun around. Stuff was standing a few metres away with his back to him. The youngster was visibly trembling. Stuff turned his head and whispered, “Don’t shoot it. Please. Trust me.”
The shutter had moved and the gap was almost big enough to wriggle under. Battery Boy decided to put all his strength into one big yank. The screeching noise was ear-splitting.
The gap between the grill and the floor was now big enough to escape. He spun around to call for Stuff and fell back against the shutter. The bear was charging directly towards the boy who was standing absolutely still. The poor kid was probably frozen in terror. Battery Boy raised his gun; who knew, he might get lucky. But before he could fire Stuff threw a cloud of the black powder at the bear’s face. Amazingly, the bear stopped dead in its tracks and started making strange noises while it frantically pawed at its muzzle. It shook its head and rose up on two legs to tower over Stuff and roared in anger. Stuff was shaking like a little tree in a storm, but he continued to stand his ground. Whatever Stuff had done he’d only pissed the giant off. Battery Boy decided he’d have to try shooting the bear. Before he could fire Stuff emptied his second jar into the animals face. Another cloud of the black particles enveloped the bear’s head as the animal got ready to tear Stuff apart. To Battery Boy’s astonishment the bear turned and ran away. Stuff fell to his knees. Battery Boy ran forward, grabbed Stuff by the collar and dragged him under the shutter and out into the Square. Battery Boy didn’t stop, he scooped a limp Stuff up under his arm and started running back along the path they’d cut through the foliage. He didn’t look back; it would only have slowed him down. If the bear was giving chase he guessed it would easily outrun him. When he couldn’t run any more and he hadn’t heard anything that suggested the bear was following, Battery Boy collapsed in an overgrown shopfront. Stuff was gasping like he’d been the one doing the running. His face was flour white.
“You okay?” Battery Boy asked.
Stuff brought his breathing under control. “Think so.”
“You’re crazy. That bear nearly bit your head off. What was that black powder?”
“Will the bear be okay? Can it get out?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Good. It was pepper.”
“Pepper?”
Stuff wasn’t interested in explaining, something else was bothering him, “We have to go back, we didn’t get the gum or the costumes.”
Battery Boy took a deep breath. “Another day Stuff, when the bear’s gone. We need to get back, Tippese might have called.”
“Promise we’ll come back?”
Battery Boy nodded, Stuff deserved another trip to the Store. Next time Battery Boy was bringing a bigger gun. It occurred to him as they set off for the Park that this is how it might be when they freed the Blocked people. They might not appreciate the help.
Chapter 2 – Bad Day at the Block
Block Seven Boss Tippese paced the floor of the Block Boss’s residence, the Heaven House. He was completely uninterested in the incomparable views through the transparent outer walls. If he had lifted his eyes he would have seen the tops of the boiling storm clouds swirling around the vast monolith, the curvature of the Earth, the edge of space. The floor under his feet was twenty-three kilometres above sea level. Tippese was literally on top of the world though that wasn’t how he felt. The Block Boss’s mood oscillated between despair and indignation.
He stopped one of the more intelligent of the old girls walking past with a large display screen in her arms. “How do you think it went, the other day? Tell me honestly.”
The young woman immediately stopped dead in her tracks. Her usual bland expression was replaced by a look of barely suppressed panic. “Me Boss? Are you asking me?”
Tippese knew exactly how she felt. There was nothing worse than being asked for an opinion by management, especially if the phrase ‘tell me honestly’ was tagged on the end of the question. It placed the old girl in an impossible position. If she gave an honest view, the Boss might be outraged and seconds later the poor wretch would be on her way to the Yard in the clutches of a Crawler, the horrific black squid machines that policed the Block. If the old girl was too obviously fawning the result could be exactly the same. Of course, no one could just downright, barefaced lie. Control made sure of that. Control was a little instrument of perfect torture that every Block resident acquired as soon as they reached puberty. Tippese wasn’t sure what purpose his own Control device served, now he was Boss. He assumed it was how he continued to hear Reference, the Block’s operating system. It certainly didn’t stop him getting angry or violent whenever he liked, which were emotions and physical actions that were usually forbidden by Control.
Tippese wasn’t letting the old girl’s clumsy attempt at a diversion getting her off answering his questions. “Yes you. Well, what did you think?” If the old girl’s mind was an engine it would have been over revving and venting black exhaust gases out of her ears. Of course she had an opinion, but what opinion did she think the Boss wanted to hear? The old girl screwed up her face. Little beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Finally, the old girl decided she was at growing risk of fatally annoying the Boss if she stalled for much longer. She opened her mouth to give an answer. Nothing came out but a croak
ing noise. Getting a grip, she started again. “It was surprising news. About losing contact with the Owners and that Reference was thinking of letting us all go.”
Tippese gave the old girl a hard stare, “Yes. I know what I said. How do you think they took it, that crazy lot in New York? How did you take it?”
The old girl trembled with fear. She couldn’t avoid whatever might come, she had to answer. “They believed you, I think. Tress and the others. Of course it can’t be true. You’re very clever the way you’re tricking them.”
Tippese observed the old girl and recalled the breath-stealing terror when he’d faced the same sort of predicament. The quivering teenager frantically scanned her surroundings for the appearance of a snaked limbed Crawler floating up out of the floor. “Carry on with your work,” Tippese said, pointing at the arc of chairs. The old girl nearly dropped the screen she was carrying. With obvious relief the poor thing turned away and raced off towards the chairs where other old boys and girls were converging with more screens. He wouldn’t have harmed her, not for something so trivial. He wasn’t a sadist. He was a survivor.
Tippese could have used Crawlers for the work. They would have been much more efficient. Yet, despite being Boss, they still gave him the creeps. He had a lot of memories of people being plucked up by the ankle and dragged away screaming into the floor or through a solid wall. When it came to punishment and retirement there was no alternative to a Crawler. For everything else he preferred people, people under Control.
The old girl’s opinion was interesting even if half of it was wishful thinking. It was nearly time. “Is it ready,” he yelled at a scurrying old boy carrying one more screen.
“Last one Boss. A moment more please,” the old boy answered nervously.
Tippese waited impatiently as the small group of old boys and girls finished setting up the arc of twelve seats each with a screen resting against the chair back. Only a month ago it had been him doing the scurrying and fawning.
“Ready Boss,” an old girl announced.
