by Amy Cross
“I have to attend a call now,” she replies, “so I think perhaps you should go and consider your options. I'm going to let you relax a little, Asher, rather than trying to bang your head against a wall. That gives you a little time to decide what you're going to do, and I sincerely hope that by the time I return, you'll have made the right decision.”
“I will have,” I tell her. “It just won't be the one you want.”
With that, I turn and walk away. I know I should wait to be dismissed, but right now I don't feel like being obedient.
“Of course you'll make the decision I want,” she calls after me. “You're smart, Asher. You won't ruin your life just because you want to be stubborn. You'll see the light, and this time next week you'll be preparing for your fresh start. I'm right, Asher. You'll never go to the island, and I would never let you go. You're not that stupid!”
Chapter Thirteen
Iris
Today
“Asher's parents died in a crash when she was young,” Olivia points out as we stand outside the hut where this Phillips woman is being held. “She was raised in the system until she was about seven or eight, and then she was taken to the academy. That's what she told me, anyway.”
“I heard the same,” Carmichael mutters, before turning to me. “I'm sure she told you a little more about herself.”
He's right. Asher was never very keen on talking about her past, and she claimed to barely remember anything. At the same time, she let a few things slip now and again, although I never heard her mention anyone named Nicole Phillips. She did, however, admit that she'd fought in the war, and it's not difficult to believe that Nicole Phillips might be someone who worked with her back then. A friend, maybe, or an instructor.
“She seems convinced that Asher's still alive,” Olivia continues. “Until she accepts the truth, I'm not sure what we can do with her. She seems to think we're lying to her and that Asher's some kind of superhero who can't die.” She pauses. “We all saw the body, though. And Iris, you're the one who took her out to be buried, so it's not like there can be any doubt.”
I pause, before nodding.
“Whatever Doctor Nicole Phillips is doing here,” Carmichael says with a sigh, “she's unsettling people. Gossip's already spreading, and people are going to have questions soon. I say we leave Ripley in there with her for a while. If anyone can beat the truth out of her, it's him.”
“I'm not going to condone the use of physical violence,” Olivia replies. “Iris, you must get Ripley to stop short of actually hitting the woman. I was a nurse before I came here and I'm a nurse now. The poor woman already has substantial burns from her time out in the sun. I won't have her tortured.”
I shake my head, but deep down I know that I can't control Ripley. When he gets Doctor Phillips alone, he will get tough with her. And right now, despite my dislike of torture, maybe that's the best option after all. All that matters is finding out what this intruder really wants, and whether she's telling the truth when she says the government is close to collapse.
***
Making my way through the forest, I stop suddenly as I hear the sound of twigs cracking nearby. Turning, I look around, but there's no sign of anyone. I hesitate for a moment, and then I set off again between the trees. Finally, a few minutes later, I reach Asher's grave.
Most people, if they happened to come this way, probably wouldn't even notice the little set of stones that I put in place to mark the spot. And even if they did notice the stones, most people would probably just figure they were left behind by someone who wandered through this clearing a long time ago. Still, when I came and dug the grave ten years ago, I knew that I had to set some kind of marker down. Besides, it was useful later to be able to show people this place. I guess that's why nobody ever questioned my version of events.
Crouching down, I check that the stones are firmly in place, and then I take another look at the scrap of fabric that I brought out here. I used some thread to sew a crude message into the fabric, although I had neither the time nor the resources to manage more than a few words:
dr n phillips wants see you
I guess that should be enough to get the message across, so I fold the fabric carefully and then I place it beneath one of the stones. This is the spot we use whenever one of us needs to leave a message for the other, although it has been a long time since we actually communicated. For the most part, I merely spot Asher in the distance.
She's still nearby, and she watches us from time to time, but she never dares to get too close.
She doesn't want anybody else to realize that she's alive.
Getting to my feet, I look around again. I'm not certain, but I think that maybe Asher was following me as I came here just now. I spotted her earlier, when we were leaving the beach with our prisoner, and it's difficult to believe that Asher wouldn't be aware by now that something's going on. In fact, she probably knew about the boat before the rest of us were alerted, although I have no doubt that she would have been extremely cautious. I can't imagine how she must have reacted when she saw Nissa swimming out there so recklessly.
If anything ever happened to Nissa, I know Asher would blame me. And she'd be right to do so.
I take a step back, still looking around, still hoping that Asher will come and speak to me. I understand why she prefers to keep her distance, but at the same time it'd be useful to actually see her face. The last time I heard her voice was ten years ago, when we stood in this exact spot and she told me I'd done a good job with the grave. She filled me in on what she needed me to do back at Steadfall, and how she wanted her daughter to be raised, and then she set off into the forest. Since then, she has appeared only in the distance, and to my knowledge I'm the only person in the whole settlement who knows that she's still alive.
The rest believe she's rotting here in this grave.
Finally, realizing that there's no way she's going to come and speak to me, I turn and start making my way back toward Steadfall. After a moment, however, it occurs to me that perhaps I should take a little detour first, so I head toward the beach. I'm sure Ripley has matters in hand, and when I get to Steadfall I'll probably have to warn him to stop being so tough with Doctor Phillips.
Right now, however, I need to check something on that boat.
Chapter Fourteen
Asher
Many years ago
The transit tube comes to a halt, and the doors slide open as I get to my feet.
The first thing I notice is that way down here at the base of the building, everything seems so much dirtier. As I step out of the chamber and into the corridor, I look up and see a series of huge metal tubes running across the ceiling. The tubes are making a persistent clanging sound, as if there's a fault that hasn't been repaired for many years. Nearby, a set of signs have been defaced, with illegible scrawls daubed all over the walls using some kind of bright neon paint. In places, the walls are even cracked, and it's evident that this place has been left untouched for many years.
It's hard to believe that this is the same building that – several miles above – is filled with clean, bustling communities.
I guess I just never thought to come down to the lower level, not until tonight.
My original plan was to go storming out through the main door and into the streets of the abyss, but now I'm not so sure. I head over to the huge, wall-spanning window and try to peer out, but there's way too much grime all over the glass. I try to wipe the grime away, only to find that it's mostly stuck to the outside. Making my way along the corridor, I search for a less dirty patch, and finally I discover a section that looks to have been cleaned a little more recently. Still, I have to lean close and squint in an attempt to see the street outside.
All the shadows are cast downward, thanks to the lights of the tall buildings all around, but the streets themselves have only occasional electric lights. I can just about make out the base of the building opposite, where there's part of an old structure that looks to
have been simply divided in two, with one half crushed to make way for a new tower and the other half left leaning precariously. Just as I'm about to turn and try to find another vantage point, however, I spot a figure moving out there in the darkness, and I watch in horror as the figure hurries across the dark street and disappears into an alley.
She might be a monster, but I guess Doctor Phillips didn't lie about this place. The abyss is truly disgusting.
For a moment, I consider turning and heading back up to the higher, more reputable parts of the building. I could get into the transit tube and be up on the dorm deck in thirty, maybe forty seconds. Then again, I know I'd regret chickening out, and I keep trying to persuade myself that the abyss can't be as bad as it looks. I guess I'm just not used to life down here in the slums of the city, and if I go back up I'll simply be giving in to everything Doctor Phillips expects of me. She'd be so happy if I retreated now, so I have to at least take a look around, if only to spite that bitch.
Making my way cautiously along the corridor, I finally reach the door at the far end. There's a panel on the wall, waiting for my retina scan, so I lean closer and a moment later there's a beep before the door slides open. I immediately feel a blast of warm, moist air, and a moment later I'm hit by the most horrible stench of rotten, decaying matter. And then, just as I'm getting used to the smell, I realize my throat is starting to tickle. Turning away slightly, I start coughing more and more, and finally I have to cover my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket.
I remember somebody telling me once that the air down here could get pretty dusty, but I never expected it to be this bad.
I look out at the street, to make sure that there's nobody loitering nearby, and then I step out onto the sidewalk. At least, sidewalk is the word I've heard used to describe these pathways that run along the sides of the roads. I guess it was useful to have a separate section for pedestrians, back in the day when people still drove cars. Taking a step forward, I look around again, and then I tilt my head back and stare up at the vast, towering lights that run up the side of the building.
A few hours ago, I was up there with Doctor Phillips, looking down at the darkness of the abyss.
Now I'm here, looking up at the lights.
“It's not so bad,” I mutter. “I might even -”
Before I can finish, I break into another coughing fit, and this time I have to lean back against the wall. At that moment, the door slides shut nearby, and I can't help feeling that I'm suddenly cut off from everything I know. Sure, I can just go to the door at any moment and use a retinal scan to get back inside, but I still feel as if I'm lost in a strange new world. In fact, in some ways, being out here right now feels even stranger than the times I was deposited in the middle of nowhere while I was in the military. At least then, I knew I was about to engage the enemy in combat. Here, the empty streets seem to pose a different danger. An attack could come from any direction, at any moment.
Or not.
In fact, as I take slow, careful breaths, I try to remind myself that the dangers of the abyss have probably been exaggerated. After all, people like Doctor Phillips only hear second-hand stories of this place. They've never been down themselves, so how do they know what it's really like here?
They don't.
She warned me about romanticizing the poverty, but the way I see it, she's just as guilty. She romanticizes the danger.
Stepping along to the next corner, I'm surprised to spot an old-fashioned two-storey house with lights in the windows. The place looks friendly enough, so I cross the street and stop outside the building. I can see several people inside, and while one of them is wiping a long, curved table, the others are all slumped on stools. It takes a moment before I realize that I've heard about places like this before. I think, by pure chance, I've stumbled upon a proper old-style bar, like the bars I've read about in books. For a moment, transfixed by the sight of people sitting around like this, I step toward the window, until suddenly one of the people turns and looks straight at me.
I instinctively take a step back, shocked by the man's calm expression.
I want to run. I want to head back into the building and take a transit tube back up to the dorm area, and I want to stay there forever. At the same time, I also want to force myself to meet at least a few of the people who live down here in the abyss, so finally I head over to the door. It takes a few seconds before I realize that this is an old-fashioned door that has to be opened manually, so I take hold of the handle and push, only to find that the door is stuck somehow. When I pull, however, the door swings open and I almost hit the edge against my own head.
Once I've managed to navigate the door, however, I step into the bar and I'm immediately shocked by the stale smell of beer and body odor. Still holding the door open, I look around at the hunched backs of the customers, and again I feel as if I should turn and run.
“Are you coming in or not?” the man behind the bar asks suddenly. “Make your mind up, 'cause right now you're letting the heat out!”
Chapter Fifteen
Iris
Today
Considering she must have spent a couple of months on this boat, Nicole Phillips sure didn't have much stuff with her. Even if she jettisoned old cans and packets once she was done with them, she seems to have made the journey with no computer and no books or other documents.
Either she's a remarkably incurious woman, or she's done a very good job of hiding whatever she brought.
Making my way down into the boat's cabin, I immediately spot the panel that covers a small hatch. That's where she hid when we first came aboard, but when I crouch down and take a look inside, I find that there's nothing else squirreled away. Still, I keep going over everything Nicole Phillips said earlier, and I can't help coming to the conclusion that she's lying about something.
For one thing, I think she seemed far too pleased with herself.
For another, I'm not buying all that “I'd know if Asher was dead” rubbish.
If she knows Asher is still alive, then it's due to more than just some kind of vague instinct.
I spend the next couple of hours taking the boat's cabin apart from top to bottom. Wherever I encounter screwed panels, I find some way to tear them loose. After a while I start to worry that I'm going a little crazy, but I force myself to stay focused even after my search brings up nothing in the cabin and I resort to going back onto the main deck. I'm still convinced that there's something hidden away, so I start checking every possible hiding place.
And then, just as I'm starting to think I might be wrong, I find a hidden panel at the very back of the boat, on the outer side next to the engine.
Slipping the panel loose, I discover not only a set of switches but also a small hand-held computer. I take the computer out and press a button on the side, and a retinal scan authentication page comes up. I have no way of getting past that page, so I set the device aside and take a closer look at the switches in the compartment. Each switch has a number, but I have no idea what they do so finally I give one a try, and sure enough a secondary battery system is activated.
At least I know one thing for sure now:
Nicole Phillips was lying when she said she was out of power. This boat seems to have a fully-charged secondary E-Fln battery hidden away, which means it should be capable of getting back to the mainland.
Not only did she choose to come here, but she clearly prepared properly for the journey. Which means she's not as helpless as she wants us to believe.
Chapter Sixteen
Asher
Many years ago
It's the smells that get me.
Whereas life high up in the buildings is carefully sanitized, and even the the war had a kind of blunt and simple stench, down here in this abyss bar I feel like I'm being assaulted from every direction by hundreds and hundreds of different smells.
There's the man next to me, who stinks of sweat and urine and bad breath and other things I can't even begin to identify. Then t
here's the bar itself, where stained patches of half-dried alcohol seem to offer their own different, conflicting smells. Nearby, an extractor fan on the wall is wafting the smell of food from the kitchen area, while there's also a stink coming from two doors on the other side of the room. I think one of the doors leads to a bathroom area, while the other maybe leads to wherever these people store their trash.
There are so many different smells down here, I feel like my senses are being overloaded.
“You want a drink or not?” the barman asks suddenly.
Looking up, I find that he's standing right in front of me, and he doesn't look particularly patient.
“You need to buy a drink,” he continues, “if you wanna use the facilities. I don't care what you do in the facilities, but you need to buy a drink first. And clean up after yourself when you're done.”
“Leave her alone, Ralf,” one of the nearby men says. “Can't you see what she is? She's another tourist from up high.”
“Yeah, I figured,” the barman continues, “but rules are rules. Lady, you need to buy a drink if you wanna stay, and I'm afraid payment has to be upfront.”
“Payment?” I reply, before reaching into my pockets and realizing that I didn't bring any money. “I have a credit chip,” I tell him, but I can already tell that credit chips probably aren't much use in a place like this. “I'm sorry,” I add, “I should probably leave and -”
“I'll buy her a drink,” the man next to me says suddenly. “Ralf, put it on my roll. Give the lady anything she likes, so long as it's no more than ten dollars.”
“You don't have to do that,” I tell him, barely able to meet his gaze.
“I'm being friendly,” he explains. “You look so lost right now, I figure you need a drink. Let me guess, you're another one of those people who decided to come down and take a look at the abyss, to find out of it's really as bad as you've heard.”
