Shadows

by Peter Cawdron

  Charlie smiled, looking up from his book as he said, “I don't know. Maybe they figure if we knew what we lost it would be too much for us?”

  He opened another book and flicked through a few pages. Resting it before her, he pointed at an image, saying, “Recognize this? This is a book on anatomy and medical practices.”

  He was pointing at an image of a knee brace. It looked far more refined and purpose-built than the one he'd made for Sheriff Cann, but the likeness was unmistakable.

  “Who have you told?” she asked.

  “No one,” Charlie replied. “Well, no one other than you. Doc Winters thinks I'm a genius. Truth is, I realized how this knowledge could help. Barney doesn't like me tinkering. He thinks if Hammond finds out there will be hell to pay, so I play it cool. Just the odd innovation here and there, something to make people's lives easier.”

  Susan shook her head, still playing with her hand band.

  “This is wrong. This is so wrong.”

  “What?” Charlie asked in surprise. “I thought you'd like this place?”

  “I love it,” Susan confessed. “But if all this has been hidden then it's been hidden for generations, for hundreds and hundreds of years.”

  Charlie didn't seem to get her point.

  “If they've kept this hidden from everyone, for all time, you have to ask what will they do when find out that you know?”

  “Barney knows too,” Charlie replied.

  “I can't believe how naïve you are,” Susan replied, somewhat exasperated. “If they're showing him, they're grooming him to be a keeper, someone that will bury this knowledge for another hundred years.”

  “Not Barney,” Charlie replied, shaking his head.

  Susan looked him in the eye. In that moment, she could see the reality of their position sinking in to his thinking.

  “So what are you saying?” Charlie asked. “Do you want me to bury this? Would you have me ignore all this? Think of how this could change our lives, of how it could revolutionize the silo.”

  “Revolutions cost lives,” Susan said coldly, and Charlie stopped talking.

  Susan got up and rested her hands on his shoulders, saying, “You're good man, Charlie. You're a great man, but that's the problem. This is not a world for great men. It's a world for those that are content to make do without progress.”

  She sighed, saying, “We have to walk away.”

  “I can't do that,” Charlie confessed, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes cast down at his boots as he continued sheepishly, saying, “I can't turn my back on all this. I can't pretend this doesn't exist.”

  Susan breathed deeply saying, “Then we need to think very carefully about what happens next.”

  Charlie didn't respond verbally. He simply nodded, putting his book back on the shelf. Susan put her book back as well. There was an unspoken agreement between them that it was time to leave.

  Susan flicked her hair behind her ears, forgetting about her hair-band as Charlie turned off the lights. In the back of her mind she was vaguely aware something familiar was missing, but she was so distracted by the revelation of all she'd seen that she left her hair-band sitting in the middle of the desk.

  Chapter 05: Flying

  Susan slept late. Her mother woke her shortly after seven before she headed out to the farms. Susan was tired and sore. She'd pushed herself a little too hard on the stairs, trying to redeem time in the early hours of the morning. Grabbing an apple on the run for breakfast, she scooted down to the porter's office on level ten, arriving as the first wave of porters was departing on their assignments for the day. Her caster was waiting impatiently inside the office.

  “Not Down Deep,” Susan whispered to herself as she walked in the office, wrapping her ‘kerchief around her neck, signaling she was ready to port. “Please, not Down Deep.”

  Porting to and from the Down Deep meant heading below level 120. It could be done within a day, but only for letters and light supplies. Anything of any weight would take a couple of days to port back to the Uppers and she didn't want to be away for more than a day. She was worried about Charlie. She needed some time to collect her thoughts, and the stairs would give her that, but she also felt the two of them needed to continue their conversation where they left off the night before. The monotonous, rhythmic thump of boots on metal had a way of dulling worries, giving her time and space to think, but she knew they couldn't replace the need to talk with Charlie about how anxious she felt about that hidden room.

  Lisa was Susan's caster. She was a seasoned vet, having ported throughout the silo for over thirty years. She had survived a futile attempt by the Mid levels to take over the silo, and had a scar running down the side of her face for her troubles. The scar was old, barely visible, just a blemish running in a crooked line from her right temple, beside her eye, down past the corner of her mouth to her chin. Susan never asked her about it. She figured Lisa would tell her the story behind that scar if and when she was ready. Susan had been no more than five when the riot broke out. She had vague memories of smoke and cries for help, but had been spared seeing the bodies. Sometimes, Lisa would talk about the attack while on a long haul, but only ever in general terms. She never spoke about her own role in the uprising on one side or the other. Susan figured her references to the unrest were her way of killing time, passing knowledge along, making sure the next generation was warned, but she also realized that the mental scars ran deeper than the marred skin on her face.

  “Bout time you got here, sleeping beauty,” Lisa quipped, pulling her dark hair back into a pony tail. She gestured to Susan's unkempt hair, adding, “Have you got a hair-tie or a hair-band?”

  “Ah,” Susan replied, not sure where she'd left the hair-band. She didn't remember seeing it by her bed this morning.

  “No matter,” Lisa said. “I've got a spare hair-tie. That'll do yah. You're gonna need it today.”

  Susan accepted the hair-tie, swirling her hair around and pulling it back into a pony tail.

  “Down Deep?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  Susan wanted to swear, but she kept he thoughts to herself. Serves her right, she figured, last ones in always got the shitty jobs.

  “What's the assignment?” she asked.

  “Heavy down, light up,” Lisa replied.

  “Yes,” Susan said, unable to hide her delight. They could do this in a day.

  “You got yourself a date tonight?” Lisa asked. “Nice romantic romp through the garments?”

  Susan was surprised by how transparent she was to her caster. She didn't have anything planned, but she had to see Charlie again tonight. She felt compelled to bring her discussion about him to a close, so she sheepishly said, “Yeah, something like that.”

  “We're hauling hydroponic pumps down for refit, and have a couple of parts to bring back up, so we best get going.”

  The pumps had already been loaded into porting packs. Damn, they were heavy, she thought, bending with her knees and working the pack on before standing up straight and leaning against the wall as she waited for Lisa to complete some paperwork. Susan regretted not having something more substantial for breakfast. She was going to burn some serious calories today.

  They set off at a good pace. Going down the stairs with a heavy weight was all about timing, getting the rhythm of the steps just right so as to expend the least amount of energy. The trick was to move in such a way as to avoid the pack bouncing around too much, as that would wear her out quickly and leave her with blisters beneath the shoulder straps. Within twenty floors, Susan was beginning to feel a burn in her calf muscles.

  Lisa was a great caster. She could read her shadow. Even though Susan hadn't complained, there must have been some subtle signs in her breathing or her focus that told Lisa she was struggling.

  “Let's take a break in five,” she said. It was an old porter's trick, and Susan knew it, but it worked nonetheless. Susan understood precisely what Lisa was doing, pushing her on a little further, maki
ng sure they made some good time, while also giving her a goal, the opportunity to countdown to a rest stop five levels further on. It worked, that slight change of focus allowed Susan to push through the ache and keep going.

  Neither of the women had said much during the descent, but stopping on the landing of level thirty five, just above IT, gave them a chance to unwind and chat.

  “You should have seen those boys scurrying for the Mid packages,” Lisa said, wiping her brow with her ‘kerchief. “They took one look at these pumps and their destination and they couldn't get out the door fast enough.”

  “Hah,” Susan replied. Sitting down and leaning up against the outer wall of the landing, watching as people walked up and down the stairs passing just in front of them.

  “It's tough gig,” Lisa continued. “But we'll get good chits for this. Thirty down and thirty back.”

  “Sixty chits!” Susan said in surprise. “I can understand the thirty down, but I thought you said we had a light haul going back, just letters and stuff?”

  “We do,” Lisa replied. “There's a bunch of letters, for just a few chits, and a package for the dirt farms that someone's paying handsomely to express.”

  “What would the dirt farms need from the Down Deep?” Susan asked, even though she had a fair idea Charlie was behind this.

  “Dunno,” Lisa replied, taking a final swig of water before getting back to her feet. “Only a hundred floors till we find out.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Susan said, getting to her feet and stretching her calf muscles. She leaned against the railing, pushing her legs back behind her, working the calf muscle so it loosened.

  “Sue!” a male voice cried in surprise from somewhere behind her.

  “Barney,” she replied in surprise, turning toward him. “What are you doing here?”

  Barney stepped forward and gave her hug along with a kiss on the cheek, startling her for a moment. He had greeted her like a long, lost friend, but they'd seen each other just the day before at the cleaning. Susan was sweaty, she felt out of place in his arms and a little embarrassed in front of Lisa.

  “I should be asking you that,” he replied. “Are you porting to IT?”

  “No, we're going deep,” she replied. “Barney, this is Lisa, my caster.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Barney replied, shaking Lisa's hand.

  He looked at Susan saying, “Be sure to stop by and say hi on your way back up.”

  Susan nodded, trying to hide a blush.

  Barney scooted down the steps to the main IT level.

  “So,” Lisa said. “Come on. Kiss and tell.”

  “It's nothing,” Susan insisted.

  “There's some chemistry there,” Lisa replied. “Is he your date?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, that's even more scandalous,” Lisa added grinning, goading Susan. “So you've got a couple of irons in the fire?”

  “It's not like that, honest,” Susan replied. “We're just friends.”

  “Just,” Lisa added, winking.

  “We had a thing once,” Susan said. “But that's passed now.”

  “Not from that boy's perspective,” Lisa said, crouching down and working her way into her pack. Susan followed suit, getting ready for the long haul. She'd known Lisa long enough to know the next stretch would be for fifty levels, at least. Lisa would want to get well beyond the psychologically important halfway point, as from there the end was always in sight and the run to the bottom seemed to ease. In reality, no one spiral on the staircase was any different from any other, but approaching your destination always felt easier.

  They set off again, pacing themselves for distance. The levels flew by and Susan found herself lost in thought. By two in the afternoon, they'd arrived in the Down Deep. Susan felt like she could float on air when she finally took off her backpack at the porter's office on 138. She danced around the office, pirouetting and springing off her feet. That was the thing she loved about porting, there was something satisfying about completing a heavy run. She couldn't put her finger on it, and she wasn't sure why the older porters referred to it as a runner's high as she barely ever actually ran anywhere, but her body felt jazzed.

  “Someone's found their second wind,” Lisa said. “We don't have to do the return climb today, you know. Even with a light load, it's a good five to six hours back. We've made good chits. We can rest up and head back tomorrow.”

  “I'm good to go,” Susan replied, having a drink and grabbing a sandwich from the porter's lunchroom.

  “You're going to be sore.”

  “It'll help work out the lactic acid, avoid too much of a burn tomorrow,” Susan replied.

  “Now, who's the caster and who's the shadow?” Lisa asked with a smile on her face. “OK, finish your sandwich and we'll start the climb. Just remember, these legs aren't as young and nimble as yours.”

  They climbed the first fifty levels in good time, but Lisa began to slow as the day wore on. Susan took the heavier pack with the port for the dirt farms. Sure enough, the parcel was addressed to Charlie. She felt the odd shape, curious as to what it was, knowing it was probably another part for one of his so called inventions as he reintroduced past technology into the silo. She had to talk to him about this. Charlie was skirting the stairs, as the porters would say, carrying an unbalanced load: he was heading for trouble. As much as she loved him, she knew this had to stop. Sooner or later, someone like Hammond would figure out where these inventions were really coming from and there would be hell to pay.

  “You go on,” Lisa said around six in the evening as they approached the sixties. “I'm gonna stop for the night.”

  “Are you sure you?” Susan asked.

  “Go,” Lisa repeated. “If love can drive you so hard and for so long, far be it from me to stand between the two of you. I'll see you tomorrow, and I'll make sure we stay in the Uppers this time.”

  Susan smiled, saying, “Thank you.” She found she had a spring in her step with the prospect of seeing Charlie becoming a reality. It had been a long, hard day, and it was going to be longer, but she didn't mind.

  By eight in the evening she was approaching the last few levels. The lighting automatically switched to the low-mode, giving the silo an artificial night. Susan dropped off the letters in the porter's station and continued on past the dirt farms. She didn't bother looking for Charlie there. She knew where he would be.

  Her blood sugar was low. Her legs were sore, but it was a good kind of pain, one born from raw accomplishment. Her stomach was knotted, crying out for sustenance, but she didn't care. When she finally took that last step she felt as though she had conquered the entire world, standing triumphantly at the top of the silo. The Great Fall had been subdued, vanquished in a day. In that moment, there was no part of creation that wouldn't bow before her vibrant enthusiasm.

  Charlie jogged over to her, seeing her standing there by the stairs.

  Susan wrapped her sweaty arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. For his part, Charlie seemed a little confused. After they kissed, he said, “Ah, well that was unexpected, but very welcome.”

  “I have a present for you,” she said, slinging her pack from her pack.

  “No way,” he replied. “Is this?”

  “Porter's code,” she replied, pulling her ‘kerchief from around her neck and stuffing it in her pocket. “I have no idea what it is, but I know it's yours. I'm guessing you were expecting this.”

  “Yes, but not for a couple of days. How did you?”

  “I drew the short straw this morning, had to port a hydroponics pump to engineering Down Deep.”

  “You went to the Deep and back in a single day?” Charlie asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “Yep,” Susan replied, feeling proud of herself.

  “Damn,” he said, sitting his hands on either side of her waist and taking a good look at her. She wasn't sure what he saw in that moment. She felt exhausted but exuberant. Sweat caused her shirt to stick to
her body. She had her coveralls down, tied around her waist. Her sweaty hair felt wet and sticky as it cooled in the night air. She must have looked a wreck, but he didn't seem to mind.

  “You are something else,” he said, giving her another kiss.

  “So what is it?” she asked.

  “It's a pulley.”

  “OK, you're going to have to explain that one to me, but I'm guessing you saw this in one of the books.”

  Charlie grinned.

  “You're going to love this,” he said, leading her over to one of the tables in the cafeteria. Beyond them, on the wall-screen, dark clouds drifted over a bleak land of flickering shadows. Occasionally, the wall-screen revealed the odd star breaking through the dark of night.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Wait here,” he replied as he disappeared into the kitchen.

  There was a light on in the sheriff's office, but the rest of the floor was empty. During the day, there was a hive of activity in the open area beside the cafeteria, but once night fell, everyone returned to the lower levels, which was fine with her and Charlie. They'd made something of going against the flow, coming up to the top level when rarely anyone else was present.

  Sheriff Cann tended to work late, and it had become something of a tradition to say a pleasant hello to him as he left for the night, normally around nine or ten. Susan suspected he enjoyed seeing them up there in the quiet of the evening. From his perspective, they were one teenaged couple he didn't need to worry about. And he turned a blind eye to Charlie's kitchen raids, so long as Charlie cleaned up after himself. Charlie, of course, loved seeing someone in a position of authority apply a little common sense and flexibility.

  Susan sat there in front of the view screen, watching the clouds blow by. The deathly grey of the hillside at night had once terrified her, but Charlie had taught her to see beyond that, to see the stars as a sign of hope.