by David Meyer
He arrived at the reservoir some twenty feet ahead of the sandswarms. Ripping the curtains aside, he started down the staircase. A handful of people, the night shift, occupied the main floor. They tended to a variety of machines, studying them, working on them. Everyone looked tired. But they showed no signs of fear or anxiety. As far as they were concerned, this was just another drystorm.
Leaving the stairs, he hurried across the main floor, drawing a few surprised looks along the way. Ahead, he saw the reservoir’s well, fifty-feet in diameter, plunging deep into the soil. A platform, dotted with machinery, computers, tables, and chairs, encircled the well.
Wind howled. Supported by fierce air currents, a burst of sand raced down the steps and scattered across the reservoir.
Titus glanced at the stairwell. His lips pursed. Normally, the curtains would’ve blocked the wind and sand. The fact that they hadn’t could only mean one thing.
They were no longer there.
The sandswarms, he realized. They must’ve desiccated the curtains.
How much longer before they stormed the reservoir? How much time remained before they unleashed their collective fury upon the aqueducts?
He stepped onto the platform. Ahead, he saw an elevated bridge crossing over the well. Podey Kreeze, Chief of Reservoir Operations, was its sole occupant.
Curving around to the left, he hustled onto the bridge. By the time he reached Podey, his lungs burned. Desperately, he tried to speak, but couldn’t get any words out.
Podey, thin and mousey, gave him a confused look. Then she glanced at the main floor. “Wentrop,” she called out. “Close those curtains. I don’t want that storm damaging our equipment.”
Wentrop Fisher gave her a tight nod. Just eleven years of age, he was technically still a student. However, the recent war had left Natica short-handed. As a result, kids had begun working jobs normally meant for adults.
“No.” Titus pulled off his face covering. “Don’t move.”
The kid’s eyes widened and he stayed put.
Podey swiveled toward Titus. She gave him a questioning look.
Abruptly, a sandswarm zoomed down the steps. Striking the main floor, it curved toward Wentrop. He saw it coming and dove out of the way.
Undeterred, it raced toward Dacker Foyd, a burly reservoir worker with a shaved head and a lackadaisical manner.
“Podey?” he yelled, his voice full of uncertainty.
She, unlike him, had gone on Titus’ original expedition to the hinterlands. So, she knew what had just come down the steps. “It’s a sandswarm,” she shouted. “Get out of there.”
Moving faster than he’d ever moved in his life, the burly worker dodged out of the way. Circling around the platform, he headed to the opposite side of the reservoir.
Eyes bulging, Podey glanced at Titus. “How …?”
“Don’t know,” he replied. “But we’ve got to protect the water.”
Shifting toward the guard railing, he peered into the deep well. Aqueducts Two and Three were wide open. The other two were closed, sealed by heavy metal hatches.
Water trickled out of the two open aqueducts, adding to a small amount already gathered in the well. This was a normal state of affairs. Podey’s primary job was managing intake. Too little water and people would go thirsty. Too much and the precious liquid would evaporate in the extreme heat.
“We need to close Two and Three,” he called out.
She turned back to the console. Hurriedly, she fiddled with dials and switches.
Aqueduct Two’s hatch came to life. Slowly, it started to swing shut on its hinges.
“What about the water in the well?” Podey asked, her hands flying across the console.
“Can you pump it out?”
She shook her head. “Our pumps only work inside of a sealed aqueduct. Once water hits the well, it’s out for good.” She gave him a quick look. “Either we leave it or I send a team to collect it.”
“Leave it.” He hating saying that. Water was Natica’s most precious commodity. The idea of losing even a drop was absolutely infuriating.
“Look out,” Wentrop yelled.
Titus looked to either side, expecting to see the sandswarm swing onto the bridge. But the bridge was clear. So, he directed his gaze around the reservoir. That’s when he saw it.
A second sandswarm.
Led by a burst of sand and wind, it descended the steps. A couple of workers, who’d been inching toward the stairwell, scattered in all directions.
Teeth gritted, Titus turned back to the first sandswarm. Leaping onto the platform, it veered crazily over machinery and computers. It didn’t fully desiccate them. But it left a mangled mess in its wake.
The sandswarm drifted perilously close to the guard rail. Wincing, he pictured it slipping off of the platform. Falling, hitting the water. Desiccating it all, then zinging into one of the open aqueducts.
“How much longer?” he asked.
“Another minute, Sir.” Wiping sweat from her brow, Podey continued to work the dials and switches. “Done.”
Taking his eyes off the sandswarm, he glanced into the well. Far below, Hatch Three started to move.
“Did you close the dams, too?”
She nodded. “That was the first thing I did.”
“Good. Now, gather your workers and head for the compound. But be careful. There’s at least one other sandswarm out there.”
She whistled loudly, then sprinted off one side of the bridge. Her workers took notice and converged upon her. Racing across the main floor, she led them upstairs.
Titus stayed put, hands glued to the railing, eyes staring intently at the well. With a soft groan, Hatch Two completed its journey. The locking system emitted a series of loud clicks.
Glancing up, Titus saw the first sandswarm circle across the platform. Lurching back and forth, it touched up against the railing. He narrowed his gaze, wondering if it would desiccate the metal.
The sandswarm spread across the railing. Odd lights appeared. A faint buzzing noise rang out.
A few seconds later, the sandswarm moved on. The railing, fortunately, remained intact.
Lowering his gaze, Titus noticed Hatch Three was three-quarters shut. Just a little longer and it would be sealed as well.
The first sandswarm shifted again. This time, it approached one of the gates interspersing the guard rail. The gate, for some reason or another, had been left open.
The sandswarm soared through the gate. Shifting downward, it descended into the well, sticking to the concrete surface the entire way.
He looked at Hatch Three, saw it had a little ways to go. His fingers gripped the railing tightly.
Buzzing lightly, the sandswarm struck the water. Odd lights flashed. Zigzagging across the well, it left a bunch of auburn-colored material in its wake.
He furrowed his brow. The reddish material looked eerily similar to sand.
The sandswarm reeled into a wall, bouncing off without leaving so much as a dent. Then it made a sudden run at Hatch Four.
Titus’ knuckles grew white. Would the hatch withstand the sandswarm? Or would it crumble like the curtains?
Moments later, the sandswarm rammed into Hatch Four. Its gold innards whirled faster and faster, obscuring the metal surface. When it finally shifted away, Titus studied the hatch.
Whew, he thought. Still intact.
At last, Hatch Three closed over. A series of clicks rang out, even as the sandswarm turned its fury upon the obstruction.
Heat swelled around Titus. A buzzing noise, way too close for comfort, caught his attention. To the left, he saw the second sandswarm shoot onto the bridge.
Whirling around, he charged in the opposite direction with the sandswarm in hot pursuit. It drew closer and closer. He could feel its electricity, its terrifying power. Worse yet, it occupied the entire width of the bridge. There was no way to backtrack, no way to dodge around it.
It screamed forward, nipping at his heels. He looked ahead.
Another few seconds of running would bring him to the platform.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have that much time.
Without breaking stride, he vaulted onto the bridge’s guard rail. Then he leapt into the air.
His legs kicked as he passed over the open well. His hands reached out, fingertips extended. The platform came within reach and he lunged for its guard rail. His fingers closed around it and he gripped it tightly.
His body banged against the side of the well. Shaking off the pain, he hoisted himself over the rail and onto the platform. Landing on his feet, he glanced at the sandswarm. One second later, it shot off of the bridge and started circling toward him.
He ran to the stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, he hustled to the top. Then he donned his face covering.
And dashed outside.
Chapter 5
Brutal winds raged at Titus, tossing him this way and that. Finally, one particularly powerful gust blew him right up against the reservoir’s exterior wall, pinning him there.
He struggled to free himself. Meanwhile, sand whipped at his headgear, his cloak.
Grimacing, he muscled himself off of the wall and hunched down in the sand. After a few moments, the wind lost some steam. Stepping fast, he hurried across the fort.
High above, purplish lightning slashed the sky. A few bolts slammed into the ground, kicking up sand. Grabbed by the winds, this new debris joined the drystorm.
He reached a maintenance shed just as another powerful gust ripped through the air. Sliding into the entryway, he discovered the curtains were still intact. Well, that was good. It meant there were no sandswarms waiting to creep up on him.
He waited for the wind to die down, then started running again. Soon, he saw the compound. It rose seventy-four feet above ground level, making it Natica’s tallest structure. But like the reservoir, most of it lay deep underground, spread across sprawling hallways and rooms.
Reaching the compound, he ran alongside its outer wall. Before long, he came across a metal door. Normally, a couple of soldiers would’ve been stationed there. But at the moment, the area was vacant.
He tried the knob. It twisted just fine, but when he pushed the door, it refused to budge.
An eerie sensation caused his neck hairs to stand on end. Whirling around, he caught sight of the third sandswarm. As if sensing his presence, it began to shift in his direction.
Twisting back to the building, he slammed the side of his fist against the door. “Open up,” he shouted.
The door cracked open. A grateful Titus lurched forward, falling to the floor.
The door swung shut again. The bolt clicked into place.
The wind disappeared. Airborne sand fell still.
Stanner appeared. Grabbing the man’s outstretched hand, Titus let himself be pulled to his feet. Looking around, he saw Lork and a few other full-time soldiers.
Stanner clapped him on the back. “Glad to see you, Sir. We were just about to go looking for you.”
“Glad I saved you the trip.” Pulling off his headgear, he took a second to check his limbs. The sand had scraped up much of his skin. Fortunately, he saw no signs of bleeding. “Is anyone else missing?”
“We’re still trying to figure that out, Sir.”
Titus frowned.
“People arrived in a rush,” he explained. “At first, everyone gathered here, close to the door. But then it got crowded and people started to wander off on their own. By the time we thought to take a count, it was too late.”
“I understand.” He glanced at the door. “Well, do me a favor and release the bolt. I almost got stuck out there.”
“Sorry, Sir. Force of habit.” He unlocked the bolt. “Would you like us to search the grounds?”
He shook his head. “It’s not safe. Stay here though. If anyone arrives, they might need help.”
“Very good, Sir.”
Titus started toward the atrium. Its open-air design blossomed and his heart began to swell. A vaulted ceiling hung high above him. Below, the compound plunged twelve floors into the earth. Spiraling, corkscrew columns acted as supports. Stained-glass pictures, lit by flickering torchlight, hung from the walls.
He sniffed, inhaling the sweet scent of potpourri. His breaths became longer, fuller. He felt a deep sensation of gratitude and awe. The compound was truly impressive.
And then, of course, there was Miot.
The enormous machine consisted of silver metal, shiny bolts, access panels, thick cords, wires, and other things, all fueled by Natica’s electricity. It was truly a sight to see, weaving its way through the atrium. On each level, it snaked down long, curving corridors and in and out of countless rooms. It covered many miles of underground space, making it impossible to be seen all at once. In fact, Titus figured that nobody, save Emma Andale herself, had ever set eyes on every inch of it.
For years, Miot had been poorly understood, but well-maintained by Natica’s reverse-engineers. Only recently had they learned that it hosted a digital city named Luminosity.
Created by Emma nearly four-hundred years ago, Luminosity contained the uploaded consciousnesses of geniuses. Not ordinary geniuses. Transformative geniuses. Men and women with the capability of strapping entire fields of study to their backs and marching them into an uncertain future.
Emma had hoped that these men and women would develop a utopia of thought. A place in which they could think, create, design, and invent without fear of injury or death. A place that would benefit all of mankind.
Unfortunately, that dream had quickly gone off the rails. Many years ago, an unauthorized user by the name of Cormella Dodge had infiltrated Luminosity. A twenty-four-hour security protocol—Protocol Forty-Eight—had gone into action. Temporarily stealing away all episodic memories, it had attempted to delete the intruder. Unfortunately, Cormella managed to hijack it instead.
Lacking memories, the Luminites had been oblivious to her treachery. Subjected to regular resets, they’d been forced to relive the same day over and over again.
Eventually, a small group of residents had fought back. They’d managed to manually end the protocol, but only with the permanent loss of their episodic memories.
Still, they were free. Even better, communications were now open between the two worlds. If anyone could fix the Broken and bring back skywater, it was the Luminites. Unfortunately, their lack of episodic memories had proven to be a severe handicap thus far.
Titus walked to the nearest staircase. With the drystorm raging, he figured it was a good time to check in with Kayden Kell.
Kayden was a Luminite and his primary contact point within Luminosity. The fact that she lived inside of Miot boggled his mind. How could a city exist within a machine? And how could a person survive without their brain, their heart, their physical form?
Reaching the bottom level, he was greeted by several corridors. He chose the one that would lead him to the communications room and started for it. Distracted, he didn’t bother looking at the floor.
“Ouch.” He tripped over a pair of bare legs and nearly fell down. Only some crazy footwork kept him aloft.
“Excuse you,” Sanza said.
“Excuse me?” He glared at her. “Excuse you. I’m not the one taking up floorspace around here.”
“Well, I’m not the one walking without looking.”
“I shouldn’t have to look.” He waved his hands around the large area. “Next time, sit somewhere else.”
“What’s the point? You’d just find some other way to trip over me.”
“What can I say? You’re always in the way.” A sharp, quick hammering struck his ears. He frowned, then swiveled on his heels. He was pretty sure the noise had come from the north hallway. “Did you hear that?”
She cocked her head.
The hammering hit his ears for a second time. It was quick and muffled. The sort of hammering one might do if they were trying to avoid attention.
“Yup,” she replied. “One of my people must be f
ixing something.”
“There’s a problem with Miot?”
“It’s probably just regular maintenance.” Exhaling, she climbed to her feet. “But let’s check it out anyway.”
With a sarcastic, sweeping gesture, he offered her the lead. Nose tilted skyward, she marched past him like he was nothing. Rolling his eyes, he followed her.
They entered the hallway. Glancing to either side, Titus marveled at the machinery lining the walls. He could scarcely comprehend Miot’s size, let alone its purpose. How had Emma built such a wonder? It was truly an astounding feat.
As they reached an intersection, more hammering rang out. Titus shut his eyes, tried to get a grasp on it. Unfortunately, the walls played tricks on his ears and he had trouble pinpointing its direction.
“This way.” Sanza hung a left, then made her way forward.
He hiked after her and they reached another intersection. Glancing around, he saw even more machinery. A guy could get lost amongst all of it.
More hammering, louder and clearer, filled the air. Sanza sped up. At the next intersection, she turned left. Then she veered right and entered a large, doorless room.
Titus followed her inside. Miot covered much of the wall space. There was a decent-sized vacancy in the center of the room, however, and a small group of reverse-engineers was gathered there. They were rather young, between the ages of thirteen and sixteen.
Looking from kid to kid, he saw they held hammers and other tools. A laptop sat on the floor next to a very strange, metallic contraption.
“What are you doing?” Sanza asked.
A few looks were exchanged. But nobody answered.
Titus glanced at their faces, studying them closely. There were five in total, four of which displayed set jaws and hard eyes. The fifth face, belonging to fourteen-year old Bronf Oaks, was a different story.
He focused on the boy. Studied his cheek-biting, his averted gaze. “You.” Titus pointed at him. “Answer the question.”
He trembled lightly. “Well, uh, we were just—”
“We were just doing what you told us to do, Sir.” Sorney Gale’s words came out in a rush. The fifteen-year old shed her hammer and stood up. Wiping her dusty hands on her cloak, she gave him a grin. “That’s okay, right?”
