by Maguire, Ily
“We walk from here.” Ezekiel holds the door open and I exit first. The breeze is cool and moist and water molecules hang onto dissolved minerals suspended in the air. We must be north of wherever we were before.
I take a deep breath in and then smell my skin. There is a faint environmental odor, like being outside for a really long time. “Geosmin,” I say, referring to the after-a-rainstorm smell.
“It’s ozone,” Ezekiel corrects, even though it doesn’t have any bit of the bleachy-clean smell that usually precedes the rain. I don’t bother to argue. Instead I take in my surroundings. Ezekiel wipes down the inside of the car of our fingerprints and any trace evidence we might have left behind.
“It hasn’t rained out here in months,” Pike says confirming Ezekiel’s impression over mine. “They stopped cloud seeding a long time ago.”
“Cloud seeding,” I begin. “How could they just stop weather modification? It won’t rain without artificial rainfall. Everything will die.”
Pike nods, but doesn’t say anything.
The grass in this countryside is green and up to my knees despite the apparent lack of precipitation. The only clue that it hasn’t rained is the blade tips are crisp and brown. Burnt from the sun. It’s so close.
“Will I burn?” I ask. My skin is getting hot.
“Don’t worry,” Pike replies. “We’ll be inside soon.”
“Do we have to walk all the way over there?” I ask. Across the field in the distance are two tall city towers, at least twenty-stories high. Nothing like the simple living among natural surroundings as described in Thoreau’s Walden. Despite being huge, they are almost invisible, covered in black solar panels. Absorbing the sunlight.
“Your parents have put out a very hefty reward for your safe return.” Ezekiel turns to Pike. Pike pats Ezekiel’s back and Ezekiel types something into his arm pad. The navigation panel on the car sizzles and zaps before moving off in the opposite direction.
They have? For some reason I should be happy about this. Why am I not?
“Had to scramble the coordinates again,” Ezekiel explains. Pike’s hand on my lower back guides me toward the towers. I nod. I know that by now. I still can’t believe they are looking for me. I try to conceal this from Pike and Ezekiel.
“Where are we?” I ask. It is so beautiful out here. Calm and inspiring. When I get back to my room in my house, I’m going to redo it. This I have experienced.
“Aegis,” Pike answers.
“I can barely see it.” I am in awe of these buildings as we approach. There is an excitable feeling and it comes from the buildings themselves. It’s almost like they are possessed. Like they have a soul. “What was it?”
“It used to be some sort of housing facility. But it was too far out from the city and the landfill it was built upon began to sink. Inhabitants were evacuated and Aegis, empty, became overgrown. Some of the buildings around us sank underground; other’s had to be levelled. These two were the only ones able to stay standing. Engineers put reinforced bracing into the concrete foundation so it wouldn’t sink any farther. There was already a layer of bedrock, under all the garbage.”
“Why would anyone save the buildings if everyone was evicted?”
“It was an abandoned building and remained so for years. There’s no reason for it to exist anymore. It’s in an apocalyptic dead zone. No one comes out here. No one wants to.”
“I’ve never heard about it, how come?” Aegis, the protection worn by Zeus and Athena. More myths. I read about it despite Jenny’s initial reservations. She thought I should spend my time on people like Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates.
Ezekiel stomps through the grass, blazing a trail for Pike and me to follow. When I look back, there is no trace of a path or our footsteps. The grass has bounced back like we were never here.
“It’s in what you’d call a magnetic blank spot. Radar doesn’t pick this space up because we are outside the Beadledom. The commuter trains don’t pass through it anymore,” Pike tells me. “They’re obsolete and it’s a forgotten space.”
“But what about satellites? Something has to see it. Or know that it is here,” I inquire.
“We don’t get any reception actually. No phones. No GPS. Electronics work, but not on any sort of bandwidth or frequency. Nothing transmits any sort of signal here. No one knows about us except for us,” Pike answers.
“And no one cares, either.” Ezekiel stops and turns, staring at me. I’m taken aback. I want to run and hide, but there’s nowhere to go, grass all around me. I lose my footing and fall to the ground. “Don’t even think about trying to contact your family.” He leans down, his face close to mine. “You’ll get us all caught.”
“I-I won’t.” I pick myself up as soon as he backs away. There isn’t even an indent in the grass below my body. “I-Is your family in there?” I point at Aegis, speaking only to Pike. I really don’t like Ezekiel.
Pike shakes his head.
The wind picks up.
“Haven’t seen my dad since I was a kid and my mom – my mom, well, she’s not here.”
“Oh. Okay,” I’m sorry I asked. Why did I ask?
We hike on, then over a small stream. Instead of using the footbridge, Ezekiel splashes through the water and Pike and I follow. My boots are soaking wet. I wriggle my toes. They’re dry.
We get closer to the buildings and I can see they are surrounded by some type of rabbit-proof fencing. I look up at the two buildings, which is really one building at the base, becoming two towers after the second or third floor. There aren’t any windows, only photovoltaic modules reflecting the horizon. Solar panels.
We’ve stopped at the gate in the fence. It looks more like a prison yard than some part of a city. “Is it electrified?”
“Nope. Don’t need it. No one’s coming in.” Ezekiel takes out a flat key from his bag and calibrates it using his arm band. I’m not sure how that’s possible without some sort of wireless, but I don’t want to ask. He unlocks the gate and we go in.
We approach a set of double doors, the windows of the building completely mortared up with concrete. Two men as big as Ezekiel, and dressed like him and Pike, let us in. They stand guard at the entrance.
Pike waves to the guys and I turn to Ezekiel who is behind us. “Come on,” Pike says to me. Ezekiel doesn’t follow. “He knows where we’re going.”
“I – I wasn’t, I don’t care about him,” I retort.
Pike smiles sideways and I don’t like it. He is amused.
We walk down a corridor, not unlike the hospital, but much darker. We pass through another set of doors. There are dark velvet drapes covering cement walls. We are in the lobby of the building. Pike opens the final doors just beyond. The brightness is blinding.
He pulls me into an enormous room. We are in the core of the building between the two towers. Open space goes all the way up to the top where there is one large skylight. The center is warm and humid. Tropical plants are everywhere and there’s a sort of condensation on everything. Even my skin feels moist. The chirping of birds is faint, but perceptible, and it smells sweet. Of living flowers. Do they grow flowers here? It’s the same smell of Nurse Hara, from my hospital room.
“It’s amazing,” I gawk. It is big and bright and beautiful. An entire city right here, inside this building. To my right, there is a small stand filled with fresh food – fruit and vegetables grow around it in small square-foot containers. A girl and boy about my age tend to the food, turning it over, dusting it off. Potatoes grow in tall, wooden boxes, and asparagus and Swiss chard grow up from the ground among strawberries and marigolds, flowers whose sole purpose is a natural pesticide. Herbs abound and there are two small trees with real lemons and limes ready to be picked. I look down. The ground is well-packed dirt and another boy is sweeping leaf litter away from the stand.
“The farm and fruit stand rotate around the perimeter every year. Sometimes they use this common space for planting or grazing. It depends on how many peo
ple we are feeding. Everything is organic and grown organic. The earth below us has been transplanted with pure topsoil made from earthworm castings and tea. No chemicals here whatsoever.”
“Does everyone live here?” I don’t ask about worm tea.
“Up there.” Pike points to the floors above. “There’s a garden on every floor and people eat what they can grow, but most of it is for the common good.”
I look up and it is green as far as the eye can see. Vines hang down from somewhere above, all the way up to the center skylight. It’s like the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. As I look around, I notice solar greenhouse lights fixed at points around the space. “What if you run out of food or supplies? How many people are here?” Aegis is like nothing I’ve ever known. I want to know more. I want to know what people do and where they all came from. Are they all the same age as us? Does anyone get along? What if they don’t? Are there any rules? What if someone breaks them? I wish Jenny were here. She’d never believe this unless I showed her.
“We’ve got surplus in the other tower. What we can’t grow or raise.” Pike nods upward. “Dry goods like flour and sugar and wool for clothes among other things.”
“Things you’ve stolen?” Where else would things come from?
“Things donated. Or given away that we’ve gathered. We are not outlaws.”
I nod. I was hasty in my assumption.
“You’d be surprised, though. We actually don’t use that much. There aren’t a whole lot of us. Maybe two dozen or so. A few young couples. No kids. Most are like me and Ezekiel.”
“Boys?” I ask and Pike laughs. I don’t know what’s so funny.
“Single,” he says. Again, my cheeks warm. He takes my hand. The electric current is hard to ignore as we walk past someone sharpening knives, and another person next door shearing sheep in a pen.
“This is where you’ll stay.” Pike unlocks a door and I step inside the room. It is dark and stays dark. There isn’t a window, just a faint nightlight. Pike takes a match out of his side pocket and lights a candle from a small shelf by the door. “This’ll do better. I know it’s not what you’re used to–”
The cement walls are grey. What looks to be a window has been bricked up. There is a cot and a sleeping bag against the wall. There is a small, empty closet. No bathroom. Just a sink and a tin bedpan. I shiver, then suppress my overwhelming need to cry.
“No. No, this is perfect. It’s great. Thank you.” I want to go home. I don’t want to be here. Pike notices and it makes him uncomfortable. He runs his hand through his hair and starts for the open door. “Is your room nearby?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “Everyone else’s rooms are upstairs. This is just temporary. Get some rest. I’ll come back in a few hours to show you around.” His hand is on the handle.
“Pike?” My voice trembles.
“Yeah?”
“Are you using me for ransom?” I pause. Pike stares at me, his brow furrows. I feel defensive and caught off guard. “If my father’s position as attorney for the Imperial Bead has any weight, it could be used to get you things. Things you might need for here. You’re not going to hurt me are you?”
His hand pulls away from the door and he steps back inside, closing it behind him. I take a step back, but he gets right in front of me. Almost as close as he and Nurse Hara.
Almost.
“Remember when Tithonus said you were very powerful?”
I nod. It was early this morning, but feels like years ago.
“There is something very special about you, but we’ll have to try some things out before we can be sure. We’ll need your help to do that, though. It has nothing to do with a ransom.”
“You mean, like, experiments?”
“Not experiments. More like tests. But nothing will be done against your will, I assure you. I told you, if you want to go home, I will take you. Just give us a chance first.”
He takes my hands and the surge of electricity is so great, I know he feels it, too. He drops my hands and the current is lost. My heart sinks. Unless of course there’s something wrong with that organ now, too.
“Okay.” I don’t know any more now than I did earlier. He walks back to the door and I sit down on the cot. I don’t notice a pillow.
“Rose?”
“Yes?”
“Did you feel sick before you got sick? Before you were admitted to the hospital with organ failure?”
“No. Not really. I mean, I had a few headaches and I sort of lost my appetite, even though I’m not often hungry. I didn’t call Dr. Rush about it or anything. It didn’t seem all that strange. I guess it was. Why?”
“Hara knew you were coming in even before you did,” he says.
“She did?”
“Days before you were admitted, Hara had been told to prepare your room. Were your parents planning anything for themselves?”
“Not that I know of,” I rack my brain. I don’t think Dory would voluntarily go under the knife if she didn’t need to. The room wouldn’t be set up for her.
“I dunno either. When Hara gets here, we’ll be able to piece things together a bit better.”
“Nurse Hara’s coming here?” My words are sharp. Am I jealous? Where is this feeling coming from? My headache is returning.
“Yeah, she lives here, too.” Pike steps outside the room.
“Isn’t it kind of a far commute?” Knowing how long we traveled this morning, I find selfish joy at the thought of her coming and going from here to the hospital. It must take hours a day.
“We took the long way here. We’ve only moved up a zone,” Pike offers.
“The Surreal Zone,” I say. It’s the zone farthest north.
Pike nods and smiles. “We’re only about six miles away from your home.”
9
“Knock knock.” Someone says outside my door.
“Come in.” I don’t know how much time has passed, but if I had to guess, I’d say about an hour and a half, two hours, but it could be more. I blew the candle out as to not waste it. It’s dark. The nightlight is solar powered and there is no natural light in here to recharge it.
The door opens, bathing the room in diffused sunlight.
“You ready for a tour?” Pike is wearing black cargo pants this time and another black T-shirt. He smells good. Clean. Like lemongrass and linen. I inhale and hold my breath. I wish I had a change of clothes. I wish I smelled so good.
We walk into the common space together. It’s as bright as it was before and there are people. More people. I didn’t notice anyone earlier.
“JJ, Patience,” Pike waves two teenagers over. As I look around, the only people I see are our age. Maybe a little older, a little younger. The two people wave back and we approach them.
“Rosamund, this is James Jameson –”
“JJ,” he extends a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Rosamund.”
“And you,” I smile. “And it’s Rose.” His handshake is firm and he’s as tall as I am, making Pike look much taller. His light features are in stark contrast with Pike’s, too.
“And this is Patience,” Pike shifts my attention to a beautiful girl, frail and waif-like. She looks like a fairy in a long, thin, layered skirt and silky tank top. Not the same clothes as everyone else.
“Rosamund. What a pretty name.” Patience’s skin is almost translucent. Her hair as white as snow. If she hasn’t been completely AR’d, she must be one of those albinos. The ones whose genetic mutations became the most sought-after DNA sequences. They’re all so pretty.
“Thank you, Patience,” I say. “I like yours, too.”
“My parents named me after one of the first virtues lost with the artificial replacements. No need for patience any more. It became all about not growing old and instant gratification. I guess they knew that if I were in this world and was around for a while, there would always be a little patience somewhere.”
I can’t help but smile. She’s sweet in an innocent kind of way.
&nbs
p; “Are your parents–” I begin.
“AR’d? Alive? Yes and no,” Patience pauses and I don’t press her for any more information. She offers it, though, “they had an enhanced genetic code. Two out of millions. Billions. That they met each other in the first place was nearly impossible, but despite their genetic qualities that allowed them to regenerate and heal, they were forced to undergo artificial replacements to show that they were just like everyone else. ARs go wrong. It happens. It’s unfortunate that it had to happen to such amazing people.”
Patience is less sympathic and more robotic. Does she have any natural feelings? I would probably be sad if I found out my parents died. Or maybe I wouldn’t.
Pike takes the liberty to interrupt Patience, “we’re all self-sufficient here. Most of us are native humans.”
“Native humans?” I ask.
“Yeah, native or natural. Natural humans. No artificial replacements.” JJ smiles. He is cute in a boyish kind of way. “Hey, are you hungry?” He takes my arm and wraps it in his. He’s not wearing the customary fatigues either. He has on khaki cargo pants and a blue polo shirt, collar up. His hair is short and spikey. Neat.
“Sure.” I let him lead me, but I’m not all that hungry even though it’s been days. Or one. I don’t know. I should be hungry nonetheless. He takes me across the common area to a small patio with awnings extending out from this inner wall. Both Pike and Patience fall behind. Pike seems shut off. Angry almost.
“I bet you’d like to know a bit more about the tests we may be performing.” JJ pulls out a small stool made of woven jute and I take a seat. He sits beside me and I wish he had pulled out a chair for Patience. It would be less awkward. She and Pike sit across from us.
Another girl comes over with a plate of salad greens and what looks like a sandwich. She places it down in front of me. She smiles at JJ and he returns the gesture. Any appetite I may have had disappears with my smile. This doesn’t look like anything I would have had cooked for me at home.
“Thank you.” The sandwich bread is green and the contents are green, too. “What is it?”
“It’s a kale-pureed, whole grain, stone-ground bread and a spinach, Brussels sprout, broccoli, sunflower paste. Unless you prefer wheatgrass, it’s pretty good,” JJ says.
