Alienation

by S E Anderson

  “My Kota says no one ever goes home.”

  “Well, your Kota's about to be proved wrong,” I replied. I forced my knee to budge, but it was being stubborn and refused to fold.

  “You're not the first to try,” the kid continued. “Mooli tries every week—well, he did until about a month ago. Now he just sleeps a lot.”

  “I'm not Mooli.” I pulled myself up, finding firmer footholds. I was a few meters up now, but there was no end in sight to this climb, what with me not having a good source of light. Would the orb Marth had given me run out? And when that happened, where would I be?

  I looked down to get my bearings. Vertigo hit me like a punch in the gut. I had barely made it up one floor, and already I was high enough to make me nauseated. I turned my gaze back to my hands.

  “You could fall,” the child said, not trying to hide the worry in his voice. “Koty says to never get too high that falling will hurt. Xia broke her leg last week.”

  “I'm not Xia, either,” I replied, annoyed. I grabbed a filled-in windowsill above me, taking a deep breath before tackling the wall once more.

  It was more difficult at this point. The sloppy bricks were replaced by cemented-in windows, dropping the number of footholds tenfold. I kept my focus, though. Stopping now would mean never getting home. And I was going to get home by any means possible.

  “Then who are you?” he asked, suddenly sounding excited.

  “I'm Sally,” I replied, glad that I had taken rock climbing as an extracurricular in high school but regretting how out of shape I was. My arms burned as they clung to the vertical surface. I didn't know if I could hold on for much longer, but I needed to get high enough to signal for help.

  “Sally who?”

  “Sally Webber.” I grunted as I slid my foot on the ledge my hands had been on earlier. There were dents in the wall, as if someone had tried hacking at it with a pickaxe, deep enough for me to use them as hand holds.

  “Aren't you going to ask who I am?” he whined, his voice getting quieter as I climbed away from him. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my pumping heart. I wasn’t going to look back. I would not make that mistake again.

  “Who are you?” I asked absentmindedly, swinging my hand to another hold, hoisting my body higher into the unknown. The next ledge was wider and separated the stories of the building. So close, but just out of reach.

  “I'm Jomar.”

  “And how old are you, Jomar?” I paused to take a breath and wipe the sweat from my brow.

  “Seventy-six,” Jomar replied, pure joy in his voice.

  “Seventy-six?” I didn't want to look back, but my curiosity was piqued. I peeled my eyes off the wall to look at his face. It was not the face of an almost-octogenarian.

  Woah. Too much. I closed my eyes and breathed a deep, cleansing breath.

  “And a half,” he added.

  I turned back toward the wall, lifting my hand to slide it into the handhold above. A sharp pain shot through my fingers, freezing my body, and then I was falling, spinning, landing flat on my back on the ground below. My lantern shattered in the dark beside me. The pole dug into my spine as the small light died in the street.

  “You all right?” Jomar let some flames dance on his fingertips, holding them painfully close to my face. The brightness made me cringe, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “I think so,” I replied, shocked. This was the second time I had survived a fall in the past twenty-four hours. I really was lucky.

  I pushed myself to my feet, ripping the pole from my bra and tossing it into the distance. My muscles hurt, but other than that, I was fine. Well, except for the foot-long dart stuck in my finger. Jomar's eyes widened.

  “Wow,” he gasped. “A Stinger's quill? You found a Stinger's quill?”

  “I what now?” I remembered having read, years ago, to keep calm after being stung, to stop the panicked heart from pumping venom into the blood stream. Was there venom? I couldn’t tell, but my hand was on fire.

  “Can I have it?” Jomar begged. “Please, please, please?”

  “After you tell me some more about it. First off, is it venomous?”

  He bobbled his head. “The Stinger doesn't want to kill you.” He plucked the quill from my pulsating finger. The pressure abated, and my finger tingled. “It just wants you to keep out. That's his hole. He doesn't want you moving in.”

  “Does he, now?” I chuckled. The child, for indeed he was a child, seventy-six and a half years or not, was so joyful I couldn't help but smile, no matter how much everything hurt.

  “They live anywhere dark.”

  “I bet the real estate's great for them down here.”

  “Real estate?” he asked.

  “The Stinger has a lot of places to live down here. Listen, Jomar, has anybody made it back up there before? Anyone at all?”

  He did the bobble head thing again.

  “Grandpa says that his grandpa's grandpa could come and go as he wanted,” Jomar replied. “But I haven't seen anyone leave.”

  “Ever?”

  “Never ever.”

  I fell back down on the street, letting my back lie on the cold asphalt. There was no light above me, no orange glow to light up the velvet darkness, no stars beyond, twinkling on their pedestal. It was as if someone had flooded the streets with ink, yet I could move and breathe freely through it. But seeing ... that was something entirely different.

  “You sure there wasn't anything on that quill?” I asked, feeling drowsy. The boy nodded.

  “I'd better get back then. Try again in the morning, whatnot.”

  “What will happen?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you get out.”

  “When I get out.”

  “What happens to the rest of us?” he asked.

  I froze. A wave of guilt flooded me. I hadn't even thought of them, even after their hospitality. I hadn't once thought about what I would say once I got back up. Zander would know what to do. I would ask him once I got back, and we would solve this problem together.

  Jomar left with his new quill but without an answer. I waited for his footsteps to fade before getting back up, taking a deep breath and looking up at that wall.

  Two stories. Tomorrow, I would climb it again. And I would not be so careless as to get stung by anything.

  Whatever this city threw my way, I would fight it. I just wanted to get back to Earth.

  I went back to my new home, using my iPod to light my way. I put it on airplane mode. If they had the Internet here, it sure as heck wouldn't connect, let alone while I was in the Undercity. I needed the battery to last as long as possible, as much as I kept telling myself this situation was temporary.

  I hadn't wandered far from the Shimat house, knowing I wouldn’t find my way back easily if I had. I meandered through the empty market again. People paid no attention to me, and for that, I was grateful. Honestly, I didn't want to talk to anyone, not after what I had just gone through. I never wanted to be held hostage again.

  Or, you know, fall a few miles, either. Not a fun way to spend what was supposed to be your only day off-planet.

  I wondered if anyone was worried about me. Marcy, probably. I was supposed to take her to her dress fitting right about now. Hopefully one day I'd be able to tell her what I had been through.

  I found Tam’s street easily. As I walked to the front door, I realized how paper-thin the walls were. Hushed voices rose from inside, even though it sounded like they were trying to be quiet. And they were angry.

  “—Never get another shot at this. Any of this,” said someone I didn't recognize. They sounded jumpy, agitated, even through their whispers.

  “But we need to be careful. We're still missing an element of this puzzle.”

  “Actually,” answered a third voice—Tam's, I was sure of it, “I might have a way to resolve our little problem.”

  “Really? How?” the first voice replied.

  “I know someone,” Tam said. “
She just fell, and I think she'll be eager to help us, once she learns it’s her only way out of the Undercity.”

  My heart stopped. If I had half a mind, I would have thrown the door open and begged to have a shot at whatever they were planning. But my mind was still trying to compute a way out of this place, considering whether Beetlejuice would get me out of this if I called his name three times. I just stood there, frozen.

  “We can't force her to do anything,” the voice continued.

  “Upfolk'll do anything to get back to the city,” Tam said.

  “If we succeed, she'll get back on top. But if we fail—”

  “She'll still be on top. We give her a trip upstairs, and she does a little job to help us. It’s not too much to ask.” Tam seemed confident, In charge of the group, from what I could tell.

  “She needs to know what she'll be facing. It will be dangerous. Very dangerous.”

  “Of course,” said Tam. “She's out right now, but I can send Marth to find her.”

  Danger? Ouch. A chance to get out of here? Yes, please. My list of ideas had run dry, so this might be my only shot. I stuffed my courage into my feet and pushed open the door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Mission: Impossibly Weird

  “You don't need to get Marth,” I said, striding through the doorway. I felt embarrassed the second I did. Maybe I should have dimmed down the drama. Theatrical entrances weren’t really my thing, and I hated making a scene. Six pairs of black eyes were on me, three mouths agape. Talk about awkward.

  The three Theosians sat cross-legged on the floor. I tried to look confident, but I was anxious and my hands shook on the doorknob. This did not dissuade Tam, however. His face lit up.

  “This is Sally,” he said, standing up and reaching for me like we were old friends. “She's from the Overcity. Well, as a tourist, right? Sally, meet Shu and Ratta. They're friends of mine.”

  I bowed. They bowed back. I was proud I had gotten the hang of that greeting, but it was still very surreal.

  “Come sit with us.” Shu, whose hair was bright yellow and wrapped in a bun, tapped the floor next to him. The trio ignored the sofas around them, like their conference was too important to be comfortable. Why did people in this city need chairs if they never used them?

  I sat with them, crossing my legs like I was back in kindergarten. My ass was still smarting from all my falling lately. They stared at me, as if waiting for me to speak, making everything a lot more awkward than it already was.

  “So, um,” I said, trying to break the silence, “you have a way of getting me back to the surface? Well, if you do, tell me. I need to get back up there. I need to get home.”

  “Would you do anything for it?” Tam asked.

  “Anything,” I asserted, not even needing to lie. “Though, on second thought, maybe not murder. Yeah. Not murder. I can't do that. But anything else—”

  “Leave the child alone, Tam,” Marth snapped, blowing into the room like a breeze and placing his hands on my shoulders. He was short enough that he didn't have to bend over. I was like a child sitting at his feet.

  “Marth, we've talked about this,” Tam replied. “We're going to get our planet back. Believe me, I'll do anything to return our people to the sunlight.”

  “Leave her out of your stupid games,” Marth snapped. “The planet we knew and loved isn't even here anymore. It stopped existing the moment they left us down here. This is our home now. The Overcity will never be ours. Accept it.”

  “You're the one who’s always saying our resources are running dry,” said Tam. “If they keep abandoning their people with us, casting them off to the dark, maybe it's time to bring some of our own up to meet them.”

  “Tam, you're an imbecile,” Marth replied, “but it's not up to me. It's up to Sally. If you dare force her into one of your schemes, I will be out of here before you have time to say another word. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, dear,” Tam answered, seemingly unaffected by all this.

  The hands left my shoulders. Marth muttered under his breath as he made his way out of the room, leaving it quiet once more.

  Tam was unfazed, not even watching his partner leave. Instead, he stared at me a little too closely, eyes intent and gleaming. He looked me up and down and smiled. “You don't know us. Our people.” It wasn't an accusation but a statement of fact.

  “No,” I replied.

  “But do you know about us?” Ratta said awkwardly, shooting a glance at Tam. He seemed more troubled by Marth's outburst than Tam was. “About Theosian culture? What did they teach you in school?”

  “I, well, I didn't go to school in the Alliance. I'm from Earth.”

  “Never heard of it,” Ratta muttered. “Which quadrant is it in?”

  “I don't know. I don't know anything about the Alliance. This is my first day ... off-world? Is that the right word?”

  They exchanged glances, staring at each other in turn. I studied the rug. There was a stain in front of me in the shape of Florida. I wondered if I would ever see that state again. If I would see my parents again.

  “So you don't know anything about our history or politics?” Shu said.

  “Not our politics,” Ratta pointed out. “Their politics. Their history.”

  “Fine.” Shu blinked slowly. “Do you know anything about Alliance history or politics?”

  “Um, no.”

  “All right. This is going to get long, then,” Shu said.

  “Just give her the short version,” Tam suggested. “We don't have much time.”

  “Well, let's start at the beginning,” Shu said, calmly, turning to face me with a warm smile. “Eight thousand years ago, this arm of the galaxy was attacked by an enemy we remember only as The Darkness.”

  “It wasn't literal darkness,” said Ratta, “but this enemy committed genocide, killing many civilizations. Wiped out their history, culture, everything. This was at the very beginning of space flight, so news traveled slowly, if at all. So, basically, darkness. One day we just stopped hearing from them, and we didn't know why.”

  “Thanks, Ratta, way to keep things short,” said Shu. “In any case, those who had at least some technology banded together to fight them. This planet was one of the first to join the Alliance. Our ancestors signed the Pyrinian Treaty with the other nine planets in order to end the war.”

  “Ugh, treaties, seriously?” Ratta interjected. “Go ahead. Bore her to tears.”

  “Shorter version, then.” Shu nodded. “After the worst war in history, ten planets signed an agreement and created the Planetary Alliance. The planets were equals, every race on the same level. The treaty was to ensure none would forget that fact as they began to work together in a new era of camaraderie. As a gesture of our commitment, our ancestors invited the round heads—namely humans, though all races were welcome—to come and live on our planet. Combine forces, for a better future.”

  “Over the next few years, centuries even,” Ratta blurted out, unable to let Shu tell the story on his own, “through a series of complicated socio-economic events, the separation between us and the round heads became larger. Eventually, without any of our ancestors realizing it, we were on the bottom heap, and we couldn't get on top again.”

  “They cut off our electricity,” said Tam. “We were left in the dark without a light to let us climb back up. They don't want anything to do with us anymore. They don't even send dispatches for those who fall down, but we can change that now. We’ve got the codes to their robots.”

  “Wait—what now?” I did a double-take. Of all the things he could have said, that was probably the one I least expected. My eyes widened so much I felt them drying. They could have rivaled any Theosian's.

  “We can shut them off.” Tam grinned so broadly that the corners of his lips touched his ears. “They can't live without the robots doing their dirty work. We'll use that as our way in, reintegrate with society by taking on the jobs they don't want.”

  “We need a spy.” Sh
u sat up straight, his lips drawing into a thin line. “We need a round head to go to the central computer and enter the code that disables the robots.”

  “That's it,” added Tam, for good measure.

  “The other round heads have adapted to life down here,” Ratta continued. “Their eyes are too wide from their prolonged exposure to the terrible lighting. Their hair is thin due to the lack of basic minerals and sunlight. They look old, overworked, too sick to look normal in the fancy Overcity.”

  “Even in a world with hundreds of different intelligent species, they would stick out.” Shu waved his hands around his face, though what he was trying to convey I wasn’t sure.

  “The ICP, their central computer, is kept in the mayor's office,” Tam piped up, sounding like Jerry from Totally Spies. “It holds the master control over the robots in case of a ...”

  “Well, a robotic uprising,” Ratta interjected.

  “Yes, that.” Tam shot a glare at his friend. “They have to be powered down manually.”

  “Lucky for us, we have a window of opportunity.” Ratta seemed positively excited, his fingers twitching in the air. “Tonight, the mayor and his family are hosting a fancy ball to celebrate his birthday and to encourage possible voters. That's when you get in. Our source, the one who gave us the codes, has prepared everything.”

  Holy shit, this was a heist. Webber, Sally Webber: interstellar woman of mystery.

  None of this made any sense anymore, not that I was sure it ever had. I stared at Tam, Shu, Ratta, and at Marth, who peered in silently from the kitchen. Were they all insane? Or was this how things were handled on other worlds?

  “But I'm not invited,” I muttered, the only words I could get out in this onslaught of weirdness.

  “Not a problem. We have acquired invitations. Again, thanks to our source.”

  “We're not alone in this,” Tam said. “We have help from the surface. Our contacts have been helping us plan this for months, but we lost touch with our agent on the inside, so we need you.”