by N E Riggs
When Met brought him home, he promised Seth he would build a better life for them all. He was making progress, but not enough. It was never enough. So what if he, Odi, and Intu spent most of their time off in Pardis, protesting anti-traveler laws? There were so many people in Pardis, complaining about so many different things, that their voices were lost in the crowd. They needed to find something new, something big.
A knock came at the door. Met opened it to see Odi and Intu there, along with Volk. Met raised an eyebrow but let them in. Volk was the newest addition to their group, a friend of Intu’s. His home world had even more tech than Saikee’s, so he had adapted to Bantong quickly. Currently he was teaching Intu everything he knew about computers. He came here alone, so he resented Bantong as much as the rest of them. “We’re meeting here today?” They usually met in an abandoned office building. It would be miserable with the cold, but at least it was private.
The other men took seats at the table while Musha added more potatoes to her stew. “We’ve got a plan to get noticed,” Intu said, smiling broadly. He pushed his glasses up his nose. According to their Lost Priest, if he visited Thul, a Heart Priest could fix his vision. Intu had never been. Whatever price a Heart Priest would ask for that service, they couldn’t afford.
“What sort of plan?” Met asked, looking between Intu and Volk. Any plan of Intu’s had to involve Volk too. Maybe Odi as well, though so far Odi had mostly joined them during protests.
“Television.” Volk put him com pad on the table. “You don’t have a large screen, but most people on Bantong do. And I know you watch it.”
Met snorted. “Everyone watches it.” If he ever got back to his home world – he set his jaw and revised that thought: when he got back to his home world – television was the only thing on Bantong he would miss. At first he watched it for the news, because being informed about everything on this world, the Bantonan worlds, and many of the allied worlds amazed him. Politics, current events, weather, sports, everything. He hadn’t realized there was that much information to know. Soon his viewing habits grew more varied. He watched comedies now, and he and Odi loved lacrosse. Musha had some soap operas she followed religiously, while Intu binged on the news and pretended he didn’t like reality shows. Saikee and Seth both had shows they watched too, though they seemed to think that was normal. On their worlds, it probably was.
“Exactly. If we want to get out our message, there’s no better way than television,” Volk said.
“So you’ve said. We’ve tried to get noticed by the news. Sometimes they show our posters for maybe three seconds. Then it’s onto stories about which celebrity is trying to date a priest or whatever, and everyone forgets about our problems.” Met crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe he should try to get on one of Intu’s reality shows. That might be the only way to get attention.
Intu shook his head. “The news is too difficult. If we want to be featured there, we’d have to do something very big and something very illegal. And we don’t do those sorts of things. Everyone watches the news, though, and sports. More importantly, they end up watching the advertisements.”
When Met frowned, Odi laughed. “That’s what I thought too, when they first explained their plan to me. No one likes the ads: they’re a good time to use the bathroom or get a snack. But Volk explained how much companies pay to get their ads shown. He also showed me how much money they can make when lots of people see their products.”
At Odi’s gesture, Volk passed his com pad to Met. Met stared at the numbers within. He wasn’t good with numbers. They hadn’t played a big part of his old life. Since coming to Bantong, he had learned them better. According to this data, tens of thousands of people saw ads during prime-time television. For the most popular events, like big sporting competitions and the season finales of popular shows, it reached into the hundreds of thousands. And that was just on Bantong: most of the Bantonan and allied worlds watched the same television, and they had similar numbers to Bantong.
He swiped a finger to see the next screen. It was a study of a few companies, and how their profits grew when they advertised. Certain time slots proved better, but of course getting an ad at those times was also more expensive. Those high expenses soon paid off.
“Okay, I believe you that ads are a big deal.” He handed the com pad back to Volk. “How does that help us? We aren’t a company with something to advertise. And we can’t afford to pay for it. We can’t even pay for basic necessities.” He waved a hand at the kitchen. Musha’s stew finally smelled close to done. It didn’t make Met’s mouth water that much, despite his hunger. Bantong didn’t have any of the spices he knew from home. However good some of the food here was, he would never love it.
Volk grinned. “That’s why we’re going to hack into the stream and insert a message of our own between commercials.”
Hack. It took Met a moment to place the word. It meant use a com pad and break past the security. “That’s illegal, isn’t it?”
“We’re not hurting anyone,” Volk said quickly. “We’re not even stealing money. Our message will appear for a few seconds during the ad break for the evening news. There’s nothing wrong with doing that.”
Met frowned. They had promised each other they wouldn’t break the law. Their lives were already so fragile here. Met didn’t want to imagine what they’d find if they slipped over the line and became criminals. The way Volk put it, it sounded benign. If it didn’t hurt anyone, what was the harm? Met suspected the authorities wouldn’t see it that way. Bantonan authorities claimed a lot more care for people than they actually showed.
“This won’t just help us,” Odi said softly, leaning closer to him. “It will help all of us and all travelers with problems. Bantong wants to ignore us. They want to pretend that we’re happy living here, that we have good lives. It’s time they learned that we aren’t happy. Maybe they’ll actually do something to help instead of ignoring us.”
“What can they do to help? There’s no gateway home.” Every few days, Met contacted his Lost Priest. For years, the man had nothing but bad news. Now he didn’t even talk to Met. That was the only way to solve all of Met’s problems. He missed his home. Saikee and Seth would love it there, he was sure. Once again, Met could work with his hands. He could sew leather together to make clothes and shoes, and no one would look down on him for that work. It was an honorable profession, and a necessary one. Well, it was necessary back home. Bantong had machines that sewed clothes. All Met had to do was watch the device, make sure it didn’t jam. It wasn’t anything like home, no matter what his Lost Priest claimed.
Odi shook his head. “We’ll probably never get home. But if we can find better jobs or receive support… Do you like freezing every winter?”
“Of course not.” Met clenched his hands into fists and turned to Volk. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to the abandoned office building. We’ll do your hack there. Computers can be tracked, right? Well, it doesn’t matter if anyone tracks us there.”
“We’ve already made the message.” Intu took Volk’s com pad and handed it back to Met. A video played. ‘Better pay for travelers.’ The message flashed across the screen in large letters. It dissolved to show, ‘More support for travelers. Stop ignoring us, Bantong! Message by the Core.’
Met grimaced. He wasn’t sure if he liked taking credit. It wasn’t like he’d put his name on it, though. Maybe, if their group could manage something big, other groups would follow their example. Met knew there were plenty of travelers as displeased as him; some were angrier by far. If one group could force Bantong to listen, other groups would grow louder. Soon Bantong wouldn’t be able to ignore them.
It was worth the risk.
Musha finished dinner just as Saikee and Seth appeared. Met smiled at them both. Here was one thing Bantong had given him, something he wouldn’t have back home. Oh, he would have a wife by now back home, but she’d be quiet and demure and lacking education. She probably wouldn’t be anywhere as creative in bed as Saik
ee was. However often he didn’t understand Saikee – and those times were many, because they came from such different worlds – he wouldn’t change her for anything. She was perfect.
If he never left home, he wouldn’t have Seth for a son either. One day, Met hoped to have a child of his own with Saikee. He could only hope that child grew up to be half the person Seth was.
There wasn’t enough room around the table for everyone to eat, so Volk and Intu ate on the couch. The apartment always felt full, even when it was only Met visiting Musha and Odi. None of the apartments in this building were very large. That was part of why they were so cheap. Sometimes Met wondered if they should get one huge apartment so they could all share. He never thought that for long. He liked having privacy, just him, his wife, and his son. He wanted the rest of the family close, but not too close.
Besides, even if they could pool their money and afford an apartment that big, they wouldn’t be able to afford the utilities. Musha and Odi had their heat turned off as often as Met did. Intu too. At least with so many people crammed in, it felt warmer.
After dinner, Met stopped by his own apartment. It was colder even than before. He snatched up toiletries and clothes for tomorrow as fast as he could and retreated back down the hallway. Intu and Volk left; they were sharing a tiny apartment two floors down, but their heat was working tonight.
Met and Saikee stayed up late after everyone else went to sleep. They sat close together on the couch, a com pad playing the news. Met didn’t catch most of it, his attention elsewhere. “Do you know how to do hack?” he asked at last.
“It’s ‘Do you know how to hack’, and not really.” Saikee smiled sleepily at him, her long, dark hair spread out behind her against the back of the couch. “I know the basics of how it works, but to actually do it? I wouldn’t even try on my home world. Why?”
He stared at the wall for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. It never occurred to him to lie to Saikee or even keep part of the truth from her. She was as much part of the Core as him. She didn’t make as many of the protests because of work, but she cared too. Like him, Bantong had taken so much away from her. “Volk and Intu want to do a hack to make a video message appear during commercials. It’s probably illegal, but I agreed to the plan.”
“It’s definitely illegal, though it isn’t as bad as if you hacked to get people’s financial details or something like that. That’s the type of hack I’m more familiar with.” Saikee shrugged. “I wouldn’t know how to interrupt a broadcast.”
“Is it worth it, do you think?”
She kissed him, slow and deep, making his toes curl. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
“I do.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Is it wrong to hate Bantong? It took me and my family away from our homes and forced us to live in poverty. But it brought me you and Seth.”
“I think about that too. I think… I think we’re allowed to like the good parts, but we should still be able to resent the other things. I wouldn’t give you up for anything, not even a life back home. Seth too. I don’t resent Bantong for bringing me here. The world and the people aren’t at fault for me walking through a gateway, nor are they at fault for there being no gateway back to my home. I don’t resent Aeons or the Eternist priesthood. They try to help, most of them. I do resent the Lost Priests and how little they do to actually help people who need it. They help us settle in, find us homes and jobs. That’s great. But the jobs they find us don’t pay enough. I can get by, because I understand more about technology than most travelers. Most people aren’t that lucky. The Lost Priests have done nothing to address that problem. Sometimes I wonder if they’re even aware of it. If so, they don’t act like they care.”
Met nodded along as she spoke. Yes, that was how he felt too. He couldn’t put it into words; that was why he had Saikee. Or one of the reasons he had her. He and his family fell into a horrible situation, through no one’s fault. That they couldn’t get home was also no one’s fault. Their lack of money could be blamed on others, and he did.
To get by on Bantong, a person needed certain skills. The locals knew those skills. Travelers from advanced worlds knew those skills or could learn them easily. People like him didn’t, yet they were expected to make it anyway. They had to compete against people who held every advantage, with little help from the Lost Priests. “Stop calling me,” Met’s Lost Priest would say. “I don’t know of a gateway to get you home. I can’t help you.” He never offered Met help to learn skills that would get Met a better job. He didn’t suggest ways to make what money they had go further. Met shouldn’t have to ask. Even if he did, he didn’t trust his Lost Priest to have an answer.
“Maybe you should change your last name back,” he said.
Saikee stared at him as if he was mad. “Why would I do that? We’re married!”
He still didn’t understand why marriage meant her taking his last name, but that was an old argument. It was a custom from her world, and it made her happy. It made him happy too, even if he didn’t understand it. “If we get caught, you might not want people to know we’re married.”
Saikee raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “First, never go into something assuming you’ll be caught. That’ll make you careless. Take precautions, yes, but be confident! Second, if you think I don’t want to sit next to you and help send out this message, then you don’t know me at all. Third,” she raised her voice when Met tried to cut in, “it isn’t that easy to change a last name. I’d get buried in paperwork if I still wanted to get paid, get a pension, and pay our bills. You’re stuck with me, Met, so accept it.”
“I worry, is all. I want you to be safe, you and Seth.”
“I know, and I love that you worry. But I choose to be here, Met. I choose to risk myself for our cause. Seth would too, if you let him. You love us, so don’t make us change who we are.”
Met closed his eyes and pulled her against his chest. “I would never want to change you. I love you, even when you frustrate me or terrify me. Seth is another matter. He’s still in school. I won’t have him involved in any Core business till he’s seventeen at least!” A child had no business getting involved in illegal activities. Met wanted Seth as far away from this as possible. He could join them for protests and help plan, but that was it. If he and the others got arrested, at least Seth should stay free.
“Agreed,” Saikee said, because she was just as protective of Seth as him, maybe more. “He’ll want to help with the planning though. He doesn’t like to feel left out.”
“He can help then.” Seth was good with com pads and technology, as far as Met could tell.
They talked some more before falling asleep together on the couch. It wasn’t comfortable or large enough to accommodate two people, but it was nice to have Saikee in his arms.
After work the next day, Met picked up Seth from school and together they walked to the abandoned office building. They met Intu and Volk there, both of whom had com pads in front of them. Volk had other devices, only some of which Met recognized. He saw a camera and plenty of wires and a generator. The rest was nonsense to him.
Volk explained what all his equipment did, but Met understood none of it. He didn’t think Intu or Seth could follow most of the explanation either. There was a lot of talk about signals and reception. “So you’re going to interrupt the normal signal, the commercial on television, and replace it with our message?” Met asked.
“Yes,” Volk nodded. “It shouldn’t be that hard. The tricky part is not getting caught. People will notice when the signal gets high-jacked, because the people who send out the television shows watch their televisions. When they see something else, they’ll know there’s a problem.”
Met frowned. Intu asked, “Can they trace it to us? You said that was hard.”
“It is hard, especially because our message is short. It can be done, though. That’s why we’re here.” Volk spread his arms out to encompass the entire room. “If people co
me looking for us here, we can find a new place to meet.”
It sounded good to Met. He poked the generator. “Well? When shall we do it? We want a time when lots of people are watching television.”
“There’s the runball final in two days at seven,” Volk said, checking his com pad. “Everyone’ll be watching that.”
“Runball,” Met huffed. He didn’t understand the game. Lacrosse was much better, far less chaotic. Runball was the most popular sport on Bantong, as well as most of the allied worlds. It was a good time to send out their message.
Seth glanced around at the adults. “Should we test is first? Do we even know it will work?”
“Of course it will work,” Volk said.
“It can’t hurt to test it, can it?” Intu asked. “Let’s try tonight, for a show not many people watch. Just in case,” he added when Volk started to sulk.
“Fine,” Volk said, slumped in his chair. “But every signal we hack increases the chance that we get caught.”
Met stood and picked up the generator. “Then let’s go somewhere else tonight. There are any number of deserted buildings in Jigok.”
The others picked up other pieces of equipment. They tossed bags over the lot, so no one would see them carting this material down the street and grow suspicious. Most residents of Jigok knew to look the other way, but Met didn’t want to chance it. They walked a few miles, Seth panting under the weight of all the wires he held. At last Met spotted an abandoned restaurant. Intu broke open the back door, and they trekked inside.
Volk grumbled about having to set up all his equipment again, but he worked quickly. Met didn’t understand, but he could connect wires and place equipment as well as anyone else. By dark, they had everything set up and ready to go.
“Go home,” Met told Seth.
“I want to help.” Seth scowled and crossed his arms over his chest.
With a sigh, Met grasped the boy’s shoulder. “This is illegal, Seth. I don’t want you here. We might get caught.”
