by Mari Mancusi
"Well, Mariah believed if you have secrets as important as we have, we'd better do a damn good job hiding them," Dawn says. He steps up to a massive steel door set into the wall, complete with a high-tech looking combination lock.
"No thumb sensor?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Dawn says. "Only a handful of people know the combination to this safe, and we change it all the time so that no one can give it away, even under torture." He turns the safe combination lock a few times and the door squeaks open. "Here we go." He bows. After you, m'lady"
I step through the door and gasp as I realize what's on the other side: a series of metal cages, cut into the caves. Each contains animals. Cow, goats, chickens. It's a regular Old McDonald's farm.
"Nice," I say, wandering from cage to cage. "I haven't seen an animal since I got to this place. Duske told me they were practically extinct." I reach my hand between the bars to pat a docile pinto horse on the nose. "Hey, baby," I coo. "Sorry I don't have any carrots."
I can feel Dawn's presence as he comes up behind me. "This was Mariah's pride and joy," he says. "Far beyond any of the petty tricks we'd play on the government. This is our real future here. Our own little Noah's Ark."
"Where did you get them?"
"We stole embryos from the government labs and grew them. They're clones. One male and one female of each species."
"But Duske said the animals are impotent. That they can't breed."
"Funny, that," Dawn says, pointing to a tiny snow-white lamb in one pen. "We haven't had that problem. I think perhaps that's just another one of the government's lies. Another way to control us."
I crouch to my knees to pet the lamb's soft wool coat. "So, you're breeding them?"
"Yup. We have six cows, fourteen sheep, and twenty-two goats. It's not enough milk by far, but it does help with orphan babies who don't have a wet nurse. And we're widening the facilities in hopes to someday accommodate all of our children. Our ultimate goal is to someday have enough animals to use them for daily necessities-leather, food, that kind of thing."
"It's funny," I say, getting up off my knees. "When you first said stuff like `rebellion' and `revolution', all I could think of was Star Wars or something. You know, guns and battles and ... well, lightsabers and stuff."
"Maybe someday," Dawn says with a small smile. "But we're not ready yet. We've been stockpiling weapons, training soldiers, and creating complex computer defense barriers for Strata 2 and 3. But we can't let on to any of this before we're fully operational. The Circle would simply send in their army and stamp us out-like they did the day Mariah disappeared. They set us back pretty far. But we're still going. If we keep working as we have been, in a couple years perhaps we'll be ready for the real action."
He says the last bit with such intensity that I suddenly feel sad to think I won't actually be here to see that day come. I bet the battle will be spectacular, with the dedicated, downtrodden Dark Siders rising up to finally take back their world.
"In the meantime," Dawn continues, "we're also putting effort into bettering the day-to-day lives of the Dark Siders. By introducing education, growing our own food and raising animals, we can create a more habitable world that's less dependent on this government. Healthy, happy, educated Dark Siders will be much better equipped when the final showdown does come."
"You really have it all figured out," I say with admiration.
Dawn nods. "But none of this would have ever happened without Mariah."
"She must have been an amazing person."
"She was," he agrees. "It's easy for me to forget that sometimes. I've been so angry ... But she really did do
wonderful things for the people here. Set this whole revolution in motion. It's just a shame it had to end as it did."
Our discussion is interrupted by two Dark Siders dressed in belted tunics and loose cotton pants. They enter the room, carrying a large crate, and set it down in the corner. They both nod to us and then exit again.
"New shipment," Dawn says excitedly. "I wonder what they were able to steal this time."
I look over at the cage, straining to see through the slats. I catch a tuft of grayish hair and hear a distinctive whimper. "That sounds like..."
A mournful howl echoes through the room.
"A dog!" I cry, running over to the cage. Dawn is right behind me. I get down on my knees and peer inside. Sure enough, a sweet-faced, blue-eyed Australian Shepherd looks up at us, tongue lolling from his mouth.
"Wow," Dawn exclaims. "I've never seen one of these before."
I look up at him, surprised. "You've never seen a dog?" I ask, trying to keep the incredulity out of my voice.
He blushes. "Well, in movies, sure. But never in real life. I figured they were wiped out during the war. Extinct."
I can't believe Dawn's lived his whole life without the joy of a fuzzy nose nuzzling at his face, the friendly wag of a tail to greet him as he arrives home from work, a cuddle under the blankets after the dog manages to wheedle his way onto the bed. What a sad life, to live without the love of a dog.
Definitely time to change that.
"Let him out of his cage!" I instruct, trying to hide my anticipatory smile.
Dawn hesitates. "Well, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he says. "We don't really know what this animal is capable of ... and..."
"Trust me."
He shrugs and complies, lifting the latch and freeing the Aussie. I stick two fingers in my mouth and whistle. The dog pads over, jumping up to put his forepaws on my shoulders, and starts licking my face with wild abandon. Poor thing. He's been totally starved of attention.
"What is he doing?" Dawn asks, incredulously, staring at us.
I laugh. "Kissing me!" I gently set the dog back on the ground and glance around the room. I locate a small piece of rope lying in one corner. "Watch this." I grab the rope and hurl it down the corridor. The dog runs after it, grabbing it in his mouth and bringing it back to me. He drops it by my feet. For a dog that's been stuck in a government lab, his fetching instincts are evidently still very much intact.
"That's incredible!" Dawn says. "How did he know to do that?"
I shrug. "He's a dog. That's what dogs do."
Dawn grabs the rope and gives it a throw The dog scampers after it, retrieving. But instead of dropping it at Dawn's feet, he tosses the rope up in the air, letting it hit the ground, then grabbing it again for another toss.
"He wants to play tug-of-war," I explain.
Dawn grabs the rope's other end and pulls. The dog gets into a fighting position, teeth bared, defending his rope. Dawn drops the rope immediately, taking a leap back in surprise. "Er, I think I'm pissing him off."
I laugh. "No, no! He's playing! That's just play growling. Trust me."
Dawn hesitantly grabs the end of the rope again. "I'm holding you responsible if he bites off my hand or something," he warns.
"He won't, I promise."
A fierce tug-of-war ensues, the opponents seemingly evenly matched. Finally Dawn manages to wrench the rope away and throws it down the corridor. The dog bolts after it.
Dawn turns to me, his eyes shining. "I think I'm in love," he says with a laugh. "This is better than I imagined."
"What is his name?"
Dawn glances at the cage. "Um, they call him C-1-045-3."
I wrinkle my nose. "That won't do. We should name him." I crouch down to scratch the pup's ear. He drops the rope and leans his head against my hand, tail wagging happily. "Hmmm," I ponder.
"How about Noah?" Dawn suggests. "Noah?"
"Yeah. Noah was in charge of the ark, right? Our Noah can watch over our underground one."
I smile. "Perfect. Noah it is." I ruffle the dog's head. "Hey, Noah, boy. You're a good boy, aren't you? Yes, you are! I wish I had a widdle tweet to give you."
Dawn laughs. "You talk to it like you're speaking to a child."
"A lot of people on Earth these days treat their dogs like children," I defend, feeling my
face heat. "They let them sleep in their beds, even."
"I bet Noah here would be a great bedfellow. Keep you warm at night."
"Totally."
"Want the rope?" Dawn asks the dog, grabbing it off the ground and waving it in the air. Noah's eyes light up and he bounds forward. I watch Dawn watch Noah retrieve, my heart warming. There's nothing like a boy and his dog.
We play with Noah for a while longer, alternating between fetch, tug-of-war, and wrestling. The dog is a complete goof, and soon we're dying of laughter.
"I hope we can find Noah here a girlfriend," Dawn says at last. "It'd be great if all Dark Siders could someday have a dog to play with."
I nod. "That would be awesome. Talk about a morale booster."
"So," Dawn says, straightening up, his smile fading. "I guess that's the end of the tour. I should take you back to Moongazer Station. Unless," he adds hopefully, "after this tour you've changed your mind about leaving us."
My heart tears at his words. Of course that's what this was all about. He hoped by showing me his world he'd make me want to stay. To help with all the ongoing projects that Mariah started. To see that they were doing great work. Work that couldn't continue without my help.
"Look, Dawn," I say, my heart breaking to have to say these words to him. "I think you're doing amazing things here. I really do. I'm impressed beyond belief. But that doesn't change things for me. I still have to go home. I still have to return to my own life. I just can't abandon my world, the same way you can't abandon yours. I mean, what if I asked you to come back with me to Earth? Would you do it?"
He scowls. "That's not a fair question. You know I'm needed here."
"Well, I'm needed there. I know you don't think the cause is as noble. Hell, I'd be the first to tell you that. But it's still my role. My life. My existence. My destiny. And I need to fulfill that."
"But it's not your world and your destiny. You just think it is because of the drugs."
I shake my head. He really, truly thinks I'm still Mariah. "Dawn, as much as you want to believe that, it's just not true. I'm not sure what happened to your girlfriend. But I know that I'm not her." I pause, then add in a choked voice, As much as I'd sometimes like to be."
His face falls. He crouches down to pet Noah, seeking comfort from the animal just as Earth people have been doing for generations. Noah licks his face, perhaps in an attempt to cheer him. But the kiss does nothing to lighten the atmosphere this time. My stomach aches as I watch the scene, wishing there were some other way, some method to split myself to live two existences. But even as I wish it, I know it's no use. And the sooner I rip off the Band-Aid and resolve myself to just go home, the less difficult it will be for everyone.
Dawn nuzzles his face up to Noah's and my heart lurches. I can't believe I'll never see him again. "Dawn-," I start. But he waves a hand to interrupt.
"Save it," he says, rising to his feet. "I'll take you to Moongazer Station. Sorry to have wasted your time."
I cringe at the pain in his voice. The bitter hurt. "No, no," I protest. "It wasn't a waste of time. I'm so thankful
you showed me all you did. I'm so impressed by your work. But don't you see? It proves that you don't really need me. Mariah's just a figurehead. You've done all this on your own, and you can keep it going as long as you want."
"Right. We'll be fine without you. Whatever eases your conscience at the end of the day," Dawn grumbles. He ushers a reluctant Noah back to his pen. "Come on. Let's go."
"Bye, Noah-boy!" I cry, looking back at the Aussie. The dog whimpers in response, looking as abandoned and lost as Dawn.
Dawn slows his bike next to a ladder that leads up to Stratum 1. Time for me to emerge from my rabbit hole and head back to Earth. Alice, no longer in Wonderland. I jump off the bike and shake myself off, then look over at Dawn. He stands still, one foot on the ground, one on the gas pedal of his hover bike, as if more than ready to take off into the night.
Even under the dim track lighting, I can see his face is cold, stone, ashen. He either is glad to see me go or he's hiding his sadness well. I'm not sure I'm doing quite as good a job. The lump in my throat, the quiver in my jaw, both make it hard to throw on a brave smile.
What's wrong with me? I'm getting what I want. The chance to return to Earth. To be back with my family, my friends, even Craig. But I feel only emptiness gnawing as I stare at Dawn. Why do I have the overwhelming urge to throw myself into his arms and beg him to let me stay?
"Well, I guess this is it," he says. "Have a nice trip."
I drop my head, feeling the tears coming. I can't let him see how his blasé statement crushes me. "Thanks," I say. The word seems so empty, so useless to profess the gratitude I feel toward him. For needlessly risking his life to save mine. For holding me close last night, even though the thought of me as someone else probably broke his heart.
He pauses for a second, as if considering something, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of paper that appears to be some sort of currency. He thrusts it in my direction. "Here," he says. "Pay with these. If you use your thumb, the government will know you've gone. It'll make it easier for them to find you if they want to."
I accept the bills gratefully. "Thanks," I say. "I really appreciate that."
Dawn shoves his foot onto the pedal and revs his bike without responding. My heart breaks as I realize this is good-bye. Forever good-bye.
"Dawn.. ." I try to grab his shoulder, but he jerks away, hand up to stop me.
"Enough," he says. "You've made your decision. Just go." He yanks the bike's handlebars and starts down the road, leaving only billowing smoke in his wake. He doesn't turn around once. I stand under the rabbit hole, watching the bike's lights fade into the darkness until there's nothing left but a black hole.
I sigh. I slip the wad of bills in my pocket. Then I start to climb.
A few minutes later I emerge on Stratum 1, down the street from Moongazer Station. The gaudy neon lights are buzzing, still on their (evidently very sturdy) last legs. Wind from a nearby fan whips up debris and I hurry to enter the building, creeped out by the desolation.
Inside, the place is packed with young Indys eagerly sucking on their 'Gazer inhalers and getting ready to vacation on Earth. I now realize that some are going for a short visit, a quick lark to another land. Others are here for permanent migration, weeping as they say good-bye to loved ones, begging them to join them on Earth as soon as they possibly can.
The old Asian proprietor I met during my first few minutes here greets me with a low bow. He's still wearing the same old-fashioned suit. It seems so long ago, and at the same time as if I never left. "You come back," the proprietor says. "I wonder if you would. You gone long time on that last trip. I figure you must like it in there." He chuckles, low and guttural. "I figure you return. Want to go back in."
Go back in. His stilted English and bad choice of phrase freak me out a bit. "I'm ready to return to Earth," I correct, pulling the cash from my pocket.
"One way or round-trip?" he asks, walking over to the computerized cash register.
"One. .." I stop, something making me reconsider. I hand him my wad of bills. "Is this enough for a round-trip?"
He counts it. "Yes," he says. "Exactly enough. One way cost lot more. Also, you need official migration permission papers from Circle."
I remember now how the Eclipsers said a permanent migration to Earth cost an Indy's life savings something I certainly didn't have at my disposal. Did Dawn know I'd be forced to buy a round-trip ticket? Of course he must have. Sneaky bastard didn't warn me.
"I guess I'll take a round-trip," I say with a shrug, resigning myself to figuring out the whole thing once I get back to Earth. Maybe I can hide out somewhere and just never take that return 'Gazer bus back, whenever and however it comes.
The proprietor nods, giving me a once-over. "You need new necklace," he pronounces, walking over to the cabinet and pulling out one of the many. He drapes it over my neck. "And here
is your 'Gazer," he says, handing me the inhaler.
I stuff the inhaler in my pocket. "Um, what's the necklace for again?" I start to ask, but he's already turned away to help another guest.
"You push the button here," a blonde elfish girl next to me says, reaching over to flip the necklace's moon charm around. "It'll indicate you're ready to return to Terra."
"Ah cool. Thanks," I tell her. So that's how the tourists get back. Interesting.
"Of course, the return's only good for one week," she informs me. "And they'll totally charge you huge late fees if you stay overtime. Best to get out with an hour or so to spare, just to be safe."
"Okay," I say, not that I really expect to ever activate the thing. I'm going back to Earth, and this time I'm staying there for good. No matter what I have to do.
She looks at me oddly. "Aren't you Sister Mariah?" she asks.
"No," I say quickly, before she starts alerting the others. "But sometimes people say I look like her."
Luckily, the girl seems to buy this. She wanders back over to where her friends are hanging out and plops down on the couch next to them.
"Remember," the oldest-looking one in her group, a guy, is saying to the others. "Once you're there, you're supposed to pretend that you're, like, from Earth. It's called role-playing. You don't go just to be your same old boring self. When you're on Earth you're like a rock star or an actor or something."
"What's it like on Earth?" asks a pig-tailed girl. "Is it really as cool as they say?"
"Cooler," the guy affirms. "In fact, it's like one big, never-ending party. Lots of food, lots of booze, and lots of . . ." He trails off as he eyes the younger members of his group. "Lots of dancing," he finishes, though I'm pretty sure that's not what he's really looking forward to. "Well, you'll see for yourselves."
"Let's do it!" cries a redheaded boy in the back. "Let's look into the moon!" He says the last bit exactly like the guy in the commercial, and the other group members titter.
Their leader nods and pulls out his inhaler. He raises it up as if he's toasting someone's health. "To the moon!" he cheers, putting the inhaler to his mouth and taking a chuff.
