Divided Worlds Trilogy 01 - Disconnect

by Imran Siddiq

  Shekhar knocked a marble on the pedestal. “Either you got lucky, or Mister Connor’s taught you well. You’ll get your reward tomorrow, once I’ve assessed everything. Okay, everybody leave.” He bent down and picked up the head.

  Diego struggled for breath. “What is that?”

  Shekhar held it up. “An android.”

  “But, it looks …” began Diego, then shut his mouth.

  Shekhar shook the head. “Repulsive? But worth a lot if we get more of these.” Descending the barrel-steps, his voice trailed. “Try not to have nightmares.”

  Zachary stood behind the recruit. “Are you okay?”

  Diego’s tongue slithered over his lips. “Yeah. I … I didn’t think Overworld could do that. They’re not meant to – are they? There are laws.”

  “There’re probably laws about not doing paper drops. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Diego seized his arm. “You’re not a bad person. Thanks for today.”

  So used to being termed a boy, Zachary felt showered with responsibility from the recruit’s words. “We’re scavengers. Don’t get all sweet with me.”

  * * *

  Paper-fuelled fires within dugout pits lit the streets of Shantytown. Zachary ducked under the specks of tinged ash floating in the air. From afar he’d noticed the glow from the lantern inside his home.

  Two well-built men sat around the table, with Marcus leaned against the partition wall. A mound of paper rested on the stove. All nodded to acknowledge Zachary’s entry.

  Juan, his dad’s Far-Waller friend, rattled his knuckles on the table. As always his black hair looked slick. “It was never like this the last time.”

  This has happened before, thought Zachary, removing his coat.

  He accepted the “leave-the-room” signal from his dad, and moved to his bedroom. Stopping before he reached his bed, but out of sight of his dad, he listened.

  Marcus grumbled. “You make it sound like it happens all the time. Nine years ago, Juan. We had two days of papers dropping out of the ceiling. And what happened? Nothing. They dropped. They stopped.”

  “And you still think it’s because Overworlders don’t like the way we live?” asked Gavin, who slurred his words between his bulging lips. Always known for getting involved in a brawl, he’d often leave with the greater amount of injuries. “I don’t understand why it bothers them. We live down here, out of their way, never getting involved in their business. We make homes out of their waste, and clean the vents. They need us to stop the Base from becoming a stinking pot.”

  “This is just a sick joke of propaganda aimed at disrupting us,” added Marcus.

  “What if you’re wrong, Connor? What if they mean it this time?” said Juan.

  Marcus lowered his tone. “Think about it. Districts One to Four. How would you move everybody, and to where?”

  Zachary heard paper crumple.

  “No dates. No time. Nothing. District Five, if they’ve got any sense, will be locking down their borders. Gavin, you’ve been to Five. You know how proud they are. And don’t get me started on IOTA. Their ships. Their stock.”

  “Say what you want, I’m going to leave. I got three small children and a wife who pesters and I don’t want to be around when the IOTians pile in.” Juan raised his voice. “No, Marcus, listen to me. They’re going to expand Galilei, and we are in their way. We’re just waste to them that needs pushing out of the way.”

  Marcus said what Zachary thought. “Who will clean the Far-Wall for them?”

  “Every so often, machines take over what we do anyway.” Juan sounded weary. “They’ll use them. We don’t know what the big men up there do. They might have droids to do all the digging, and you know what, it wouldn’t surprise me if the ground opened up and emptied the waste into space.”

  “Okay, break it up. We need to get going or we’ll miss the start,” said Gavin.

  Marcus turned the corner, catching Zachary’s feeble attempt to jump back. “There’s a meeting with the Far-Wallers. I won’t be long. There are two rats on the stove. Cook them well.” Marcus cocked his head to the rear of their home. “The Bombay’s maxed up, but don’t waste it.”

  “Dad, what if it’s true?”

  Marcus’s large fingers stroked the back of Zachary’s head. “We’re not going anywhere. This is the home I built, and one day it’ll be yours.” His dad paused. “And I don’t want to be carrying that heap-of-metal droid of yours through the streets.”

  Zachary waited on his bed for the three to leave.

  Like Shekhar, his dad sounded so sure of the drop being nothing more than a trick. How could he disagree with two Underworld veterans?

  Zachary peered through the bedside cracks in the wall. The streets weren’t overflowing with people carrying their belongings. Tilting back onto his pillow, he rubbed the faint scrapes on the Raptor’s upper screen.

  Rosa’s order was simple. He understood her reasons, though disobedience strengthened within him. How odd that she annoyed and intrigued him in the same breath?

  Will she call again? Guilt shivered his spine at the thought of using her password. She wouldn’t know; nobody would, but then why did he feel like he was breaking an unbreakable rule?

  Zachary left his bed and snuck a look at the five powered LEDs on the Bombay. His fingers shook as he thrust the energy-tube into the Haulage-404 droid.

  Charged energy rippled inside Patch’s chest. “W-w-what is this?” The first Intercom clattered out of the droid’s opened hand. “I haven’t felt this g-g-good since I was last ch-ch-charged in the Contracting F-f-facility. I feel as if every part of me has been reconnected.”

  “The generator’s maxed out, but that doesn’t matter. This does.” Zachary showed Patch the new Raptor. “The girl, the one we saw in the Intercom, gave me this.”

  “Gave?” Patch’s deep tone showed suspicion. “You have seen her?”

  “Dad had a job with Gerry at her home.”

  The droid grumbled. “And you tagged along.”

  “I had a chance to see her. I had to go.”

  “No. You did not have to go. Why did the Kade girl give you her Intercom?”

  “She felt sorry for me. Listen, she wants me to wipe the memory, but I don’t want to, because if I do, I’ll never hear from her again.”

  Patch’s head tilted. “Hear from her?”

  “She called me.”

  “After your visit to her home?”

  Sitting down on a chair, Zachary massaged his brow. “Her name’s Rosa.”

  “Did Rosa Kade call to converse or to have her device’s memory wiped?”

  “To have it wiped.”

  “Then I am not needed to calculate the probability of her calling again.”

  Zachary squeezed the Raptor. “But what if she does?”

  “If she does, she will not be impressed by its continued active state.”

  Feeling the stretch of his neck after his thick gulp, Zachary sighed. “I hate you sometimes.”

  Patch’s single shoulder shrugged. “Likewise.”

  The Raptor in Zachary’s hand beeped three times. Was that Rosa? He stared at the red message running along the upper screen. “MOSD IN PROGRESS”. The Intercom beeped again. “WARNING. REMOVE BLOCKS. PENALTIES WILL BE DEALT. REMOVE BLOCKS.”

  Zachary held the Intercom to the droid.

  Patch’s eye glowed brighter. “MOSD. Matter of Security Deletion. I have not seen that for eighty-nine years.”

  “What is it?” stammered Zachary.

  “Techniques utilised to cross-search and eradicate information considered a high-priority risk.” Patch shook his finger. “I would not be concerned with the penalty warning. It can only track back to the registered owner of the device. Rosa Kade. Her method of interference-blockage will not last. Unless protocols have changed, the MOSD requester will force a harsh delete to invade.”

  “I didn’t understand a word you said.”

  Zachary stared at the replaying message. What did Ro
sa have on her Intercom of importance? She’d said it was for her personal recordings.

  “Opening message to eradicate,” whirred a voice from the Intercom.

  “That is the harsh delete,” observed Patch.

  A blue-tinted image burst into the air of two men separated by a vertical line. The man on the left appeared familiar. With swept back hair, his tight-skinned face looked down. He knocked back a large mouthful of fluid from a thumb-sized glass.

  Rosa’s dad.

  On the right sat an older man with receding hair, and a mole under his right eye. His stare remained sharp as he spoke, “You’re not confident with me?” The tone imitated the powerful accent of the Russian family across the street. “Bickering will stand in the way of progress.”

  “Article 39a is entrenched in our foundations,” said Rosa’s dad.

  “When did we let laws stop us? The House of Representatives still holds you in high regard, and will reinstate you, if you want.”

  “The Integrated Confederation won’t look kindly.”

  The Russian smirked. “They will see how we have moved on from the past.”

  Her dad’s tone grew serious. “What you’re asking for was never part of the deal. It goes beyond what any reasonable man would do. I need more time.”

  “We don’t have that, Jordan.” The Russian’s fist slammed down onto a table, sending a ping through the speakers.

  “I’ve had nine years, Sokolov. What could go wrong if another day passes?”

  Was that the same Sokolov that Rosa had mentioned?

  “Everything,” replied the Russian.

  The recording scrambled before switching off.

  “MOSD deleted,” said the harsh delete. “You will be contacted with regards to the terms and conditions of use, and the inappropriate use of interference-blockers. Thank you and have a nice day.”

  Rosa had intercepted an important conversation involving her dad. Either Jordan Kade or General Sokolov had authorised the removal of the conversation. What kind of progress did Sokolov fear would be delayed? Could it be connected to the paper drop? Article 39a? The Integrated Confederation? The House?

  “What does ‘reinstate’ mean?” asked Zachary.

  “To re-establish or return something to an earlier state,” replied Patch.

  Zachary’s eyes widened. He grasped the corded-tube. “Time to sleep.”

  “Do not ignore Rosa Kade’s request to wipe …” Patch’s eye blanked.

  Zachary paced around his home, groaning. Rosa knew her dad would become an ambassador again. Isn’t that what she wanted; to be allowed to visit Assayer, rather than be cooped up in her home? So, why did she behave as if it was never going to happen? She was so sure that she’d always stay at home. Always be alone. What else is there?

  He eyed the Raptor.

  Rosa would call again, wouldn’t she?

  Chapter 9 - A New Friend

  Zachary walked along the end-border of the Wastelands.

  It’d been two days since the mysterious drop of papers.

  And Rosa hadn’t called.

  As he and Diego crossed the ledge held by crooked nails that separated them from the Black Lake, he couldn’t help but wonder if Rosa had regretted having anything to do with him. Maybe she was already with other people in Assayer and the need to bother him had disappeared. Though, he couldn’t deny his concern. Never had Zachary wanted somebody to bother him as much as Rosa.

  Both scavengers looked out to the crumpled mess known as The Island where the most lethal gases and liquids accumulated from the Wastelands. It had no light or indication of life except occasional flickers of movement.

  “Don’t breathe in too much,” advised Zachary. “It’ll sting your lungs for days.”

  “I feel like I know everything there is to know about District Two.”

  That didn’t surprise Zachary. During their joint scavenging, he’d found the recruit’s curiosity eye-opening. It’d made Zachary appreciate Underworld more. Stained and lacking of flowers as it was, Underworld was their home.

  District Four was known for its sense of pride; residents behaved with trust and less suspicion. But were the women different?

  “Can I ask about your sister?” Zachary asked, which made Diego’s eyelids twitch. “I don’t want to know what’s wrong with her. That’s your business.”

  “Yeah, and it’s complicated.”

  Zachary swallowed. “Is she like you?”

  A thin film of water surfaced on the recruit’s eyes. “She’s better than me. She’s your age. She’s never put a foot wrong, except life just …” He thumped his palm onto his fist. “Why do you ask?”

  Zachary sidestepped across the ledge. “I thought you could tell me more about girls. Do they always get ratty with the smallest thing?”

  “Girls are like puzzles. They can like you and hate you at the same time. You’ll never know them until they know you. It’s better talking to an android. At least you can turn them off.” The recruit’s smirk tapered. “Do you know if they found any more androids like the one that Shekhar had?”

  “I don’t think so. Nobody’s owned up to handing it in.” Zachary felt Diego’s uneasy breath. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah – yeah – no. Androids with skin. It’s not allowed. They’re not meant to replicate humans. If you create something as real as that, then you’re messing with social order.”

  “I don’t follow?” Zachary motioned along the ledge to the banks leading back to the higher ground of the Wastelands.

  “Imagine if androids were created to look like you and me. Imagine them walking amongst us. How would you know?”

  Zachary pointed up. “They do walk around. It wouldn’t surprise me if half of Overworld was bolts and cogs.”

  The recruit gave a half-hearted nod. “Yeah – forget it. I’m over-thinking it.”

  Diego’s boot smashed through the bank’s hard waste. He retched at the exploding reek. Sucking in his breath, Zachary hooked an arm around the recruit and pulled him free.

  Scraping the heel of his boot along the ground, Diego said, “And another thing, I can’t stop thinking of the papers. They’re threatening Districts One to Four. Do you still think that the other Districts will stop people from entering?”

  “You should know. You’re from there. The further north you go, the cleaner the air and the better the homes. Nobody’s allowed to go north without permission. Down, but never up.”

  Diego licked his upper lip. “I’ll be leaving soon, to check that my family are okay.”

  “Today?”

  “No – soon.”

  Zachary understood the recruit’s concern. “Well, when you realise it’s all a joke, make sure you come back, and if my mood is right, I’ll let you join my team again.”

  “Your team?” sniggered Diego. “Without me, there’s only you.”

  “Exactly.”

  The sudden vibration in Zachary’s jean pocket surprised him. Rolling onto his feet, his words spluttered out with haste. “I just remembered, I need to be somewhere.”

  Diego’s bolted upright. “Where? Like last time?”

  The vibrating stopped. It’d be a matter of minutes before another call. What if she assumed that his non-answer was a sign of him wiping the memory?

  “A girl. I’m going to see her,” said Zachary.

  “I knew it.” Diego clapped. “Who is she?”

  Zachary increased his distance from the recruit. “I can’t say. I’ll meet you at the rusty track. I won’t be long.” He turned and ran.

  Overlapping sheets of metal jangled underneath his feet until he hit a level filled with sludgy mounds. He sighted a dry sewer pipe that would make for a resting spot. Crouched inside, he waited. Why hadn’t she called again?

  The Intercom vibrated.

  Zachary’s fingers snapped to the device’s ridges first. He pushed the blue face, then the green circle. Lights sprinkled above the Raptor to form an image. He sucked his breath back into his
lungs.

  Lying on her front, on a bed or a sofa, Rosa smiled. The pointed tips of her ears showed beneath tied-back hair, as did her slender neckline. “Let me guess, you were busy,” she said. “And, obviously, you didn’t wipe the memory. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Where were you?”

  “When?” Rosa drew her head back. “Were you waiting for me?”

  Zachary frowned. “Course I wasn’t waiting. I thought it was odd that you hadn’t checked that I’d carried out your order.”

  Rosa snorted, giving her head a hasty shake. “My order. Ha! Well, okay then, why didn’t you follow my order and wipe the memory?”

  Zachary ignored her comment. “You didn’t answer me. Where were you?”

  “Are we going to go through this charade again? Your question, my question; never-ending questions. Can’t we just talk like normal people without having to check boxes with one another?” She gazed beyond the Intercom to her upper right. “Fine, I’ll tell you. There was a shortage two nights ago. I got scared, thinking it was another attack, and Mother was hysterical. Apparently, it started in Assayer and spread all the way to our home. Not had one of those for a while.”

  “A shortage, like when your energy resources run out?”

  “Kind of. It’s when all communication goes haywire. Every teenager’s nightmare. Broadcasts, music-streaming, solar-web, everything, even the Intercoms go down. Blip. Totally off the grid.”

  The MOSD, two nights ago, thought Zachary.

  Somebody had initiated a shortage to knock out every device to prevent anybody from noticing that the deletion took place. Possibilities flooded his mind of who might have instigated this. Jordan Kade? General Sokolov? Protesters? And it had happened on the day of the paper drop.

  He blinked at Rosa’s image. She must have seen his finger fidget along his mouth. Did she know about the paper drop?

  “Now, time for my question. Were you waiting for me?” she asked.