by J J Hane
“More than happy to help, Isaac,” Mr. Holt replied, warmly shaking the man’s hand. “These are two of my students, here to observe and learn. Abishai, Raphael: meet Isaac Kelley, Director of the Archangel.”
Director Kelley grimaced at us. “Welcome, welcome. Abraham, if you would follow me I will show you to your station.”
When Director Kelley turned his back on us, Mr. Holt leaned toward us. “Don’t mind him,” he said. “Young people make him anxious. They remind him of how incredibly boring he is.”
Abishai suppressed a laugh as we followed our teacher to one of the unoccupied control stations. There was only one chair, which Mr. Holt took as Director Kelley explained something about satellite positioning and programming bugs that I did not understand. Ab payed close attention to the interaction, his eyes wide with excitement. I hoped that I didn’t look quite as childishly thrilled. I was going for something along the lines of ‘appropriately intrigued.’
“Stand here, boys,” Mr. Holt said when Director Kelley left. He pointed to the empty floor space beside him, where we could crowd in to observe his work. Abishai eagerly leaned closer to watch as the older man’s fingers began flying over the screens.
I tried to pay attention to the screens in front of Mr. Holt, but he was working through complex coding. Programming was not a class I enjoyed or was even very good at. Instead, I found myself staring up at the huge screen on the opposite wall. I didn’t understand a lot of the information that I was seeing there, to be honest, but it was still one of the most amazing things I had yet seen.
As I studied the images, I realized that many of the smaller ones were displaying what was being done at each of the workstations on the different levels of the circular room. I found the image of what Mr. Holt was working on, which was just as boring blown up as it was on the little version beside me. One of the square sections bordering the main map showed what looked like a negative image of a forest, taken from above. There were little spots of color scattered throughout the grey, with most of the spots clumped close together toward the center. As I watched, the screen slowly panned up, bringing a large, irregularly shaped building into view.
I caught my breath. It was the old mall where the Jackal Tribe lived.
The screen continued to pan over the mall, an image so close that I could almost make out the details of broken structure. I could see the long, angular break in the roof where the glass ceiling had once been. Through that hole, bits of color flickered in and out of view, with a few particularly bright spots in the center. As it panned, I saw the open space where I had played a game with the children the day before. It rotated slightly, moving the other way to focus on the big clearing where I had seen Azrael kill the man who challenged him. I had forgotten about the two big cannons that took up a large portion of the clearing. They looked a lot smaller on the screen than they had in real life. Spots of color moved around them constantly, like vibrant ants cutting up food for the nest.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?”
I jumped, startled by the feminine voice addressing me. I hadn’t realized that I had been pacing slowly away from Mr. Holt’s station as I watched the screen. I had drifted a few feet over to one of the other stations. A woman with frizzy brown hair, pale skin, and eyes that looked almost too small for her face was looking up at me from her chair. The screens at her station all seemed to be reporting on the status of one satellite, as well as interpreting what it was seeing. The screen directly in front of her was the smaller version of the one I had been staring at.
“Yeah,” I replied wittily. “Um. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Don’t worry, young man,” she said, smiling. “When I was your age, all I ever wanted to do was come in here. Abraham was my teacher, too. That’s how I got this job.”
Abishai would be excited to hear that.
The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Kait.”
I shook it. “Raphael.”
“Nice to meet you, Raphael. Have you ever seen our thermal imaging satellites in action before?” She gestured at the screen in front of her.
“No.” I glanced over at Mr. Holt, but he was engrossed in his work, Abishai right beside him.
“Well, this ought to be pretty exciting, then!” Kait pointed to the image before us. “They operate completely independently of the Archangel network. A lot of people assume it’s all the same system, but that’s a complete misconception. I mean, how ridiculous to think that one satellite can collect and project the power of the sun while simultaneously taking pictures of the earth! Although, now that I think about it, we could probably build one that could…
“Now, see all these little splotches of color? They’re the heat signatures of people, some animals, and, over here,” she pointed to one of the brighter spots, “what looks like a campfire. This appears to be where the Jackal Tribe spends most of its time when it isn’t out killing other tribes.”
“Why are you watching them?” I asked.
“Because the tribes are a bloodthirsty bunch, of course. We just want to make sure they keep their distance. If a large group of them gets too close to the city, we can use the Archangel to chase them off.”
“By killing them.”
Kait shook her head. “We try really hard not to kill them if we can avoid it, which we usually can. Protocol is to first fire a beam ahead of them to scare them off. If that doesn’t work, we can always increase the power output to set the area on fire. We only kill if we absolutely have to. Samuel Wilberforce built this city centuries ago to protect and preserve, not to destroy.”
I didn’t want to think about what it would be like to be on the ground when the Archangel started burning everything. Instead, I pointed at the two cannons I had seen before, trying to act casual. “What are those things?”
“Not sure. They brought them in about a year ago. We think they might be some kind of old world weapons, maybe artillery. Whatever they are, it took them a lot of work to get them in position. There’s a lot of metal on those things, so it looks like they are trying to break them down for scrap to trade to us. They could probably get some good deals with things like that. Sturdy stuff.”
“Could they be dangerous?”
Kait laughed. “To the tribes, maybe. Some of those old bombs still pack a punch. Every now and then we see one go off. They’re too big to move quickly, though. I doubt they could get within range of the city without a couple of weeks’ worth of notice.”
“What if they got them working?”
“The tribes? No way. They just don’t have the kind of technical knowledge they need to run old world tech, let alone repair it.”
“They have guns,” I pointed out.
“A few,” she conceded. “But those are just the few left that were sturdy enough to survive the elements, and they don’t have many bullets left in the world. Don’t worry, Raphael; we’re completely safe here.”
Kait was probably right. What I had seen of the Jackal Tribe didn’t leave me with the impression of technological sophistication. We were probably safe, then. Of course, by ‘we’ I meant the people in the city. Serenity’s tribe was probably in danger of blowing themselves to bits.
I spent the next few minutes listening to Kait describe the functions of the satellite she was working with, as well as what her other duties were. It turned out that most of her job was actually monitoring the planet. While the Archangel satellite system was fully functional, there were only a handful of functional spy satellites that could still get high-quality images of the ground. Kait and some of the other operators explored the world from the safety of the control room, all the while keeping one eye on the violent tribes that surrounded us.
It wasn’t long before Director Kelley, standing on the highest of the four levels, saw us talking. Arching one eyebrow in imperious displeasure, he walked slowly down to us, stopping a few feet away as if there was an unpleasant smell coming off of us. I was pretty sure there wasn’t…
K
ait kept babbling on enthusiastically until Director Kelley cleared his throat. When she looked up at him, her smile slid off her face.
“Ms. Walker.” The spindly man paused for a beat. “Do you think that your current task might be better accomplished if your full attention were devoted to it?”
Kait looked a little embarrassed. “Yes, sir. I was just explaining how things work for this young man.”
“A farmer?” Director Kelley looked as though he had just tasted something bitter. “I doubt he will need the information, Ms. Walker.”
I decided that I really did not like Director Kelley. “I’m not going to be a farmer once I finish school,” I said, defiant.
The director blinked at me. “As you say, young man.” He looked past me as if I had stopped existing, though his words were clearly meant for my benefit, not Kait’s. “Ms. Walker, please try to pay attention to the savages. It is rather important that we be aware of any unacceptable movements. They cannot be allowed to threaten the well-being of our farmers.” He put an annoying emphasis on that last word.
“They aren’t savages,” I grumbled. “They’re people, too.”
Director Kelley snorted in derision. “In a purely technical sense, I suppose. Tell me, do you know the calculated lifespan of a savage? We can’t be certain, of course, but we believe they live to be roughly forty to fifty years of age, at the most. That is less than a third of the lifespan of the average citizen of this city, thanks to our medical advancements. The loss of a single citizen is a much greater tragedy than the loss of two or three of those savages. Think of all the knowledge and experience we could lose, while they would hardly notice such a loss, broadly speaking.”
“They could live as long as we do if they had the same access to medical treatments,” I replied with forced confidence. I didn’t really want to argue with him, but after everything I had seen the previous day it seemed wrong to sit quietly.
“Do you really think so? I highly doubt it. They are violent, brutal, unsalvageable cretins. If they were freed of every disease that plagues them today, they would just have that much more energy to fight one another and, heaven forbid, attack us. They are people, yes, but their value to the human race is limited by their moral bankruptcy.”
“How do you expect them to live like us when they don’t have food, medicine, or power?” My voice was rising, but I didn’t care.
Director Kelley waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t expect them to. They are what is left of a broken world bent on self-annihilation. I only expect them to be kept at bay until they have either civilized themselves or destroyed themselves. Why do you think our founder created the Archangel, if not to defend paradise?”
Kait spoke up, her voice soft in gentle correction. “He created it to give humanity a better chance at preserving and rebuilding civilization. It was originally meant for creation, not destruction.”
The director’s eyes snapped to Kait’s face. Among the tribes, I reflected, that sort of interruption would probably have ended in violence. In Archangel Control, all it resulted in was a withering glare.
“Thank you, Ms. Walker. I will inform you if I require your input in the future. Samuel Wilberforce gave us this tower to preserve civilization, the collected knowledge of the human race. Sometimes, in order to fulfill that mission, we must burn away the chaff, as it were.”
I just stared at the man. I had seen the Jackal Tribe first-hand. True, fighting and warfare seemed to be a central part of their lives, but the lack of food, water, and medicine probably had a lot to do with that. My face was red with anger, my hands clenched into fists. I realized that everyone in the room was watching the interaction, although I couldn’t tell what they were thinking.
“Maybe it’s just because I’m a kid,” I said slowly, letting sarcasm flood my tone. “But I always thought that an important part of civilization was knowing the inherent value in every life. Maybe that’s just because I pay attention in history class.”
With that, I turned my back on the director and stormed out. At least, I tried to storm out. The effect is reduced somewhat when you have to wait on an elevator to arrive.
Chapter 10
I left the Martyrion with my muscles still shaking in anger. My stomach was knotted as I thought, for the second time, about how someone could be so callous about the destruction of human life. No matter what Isaac Kelley said, I knew there was no way the founders would have been pleased with the way he thought about the tribes.
Instead of wandering the streets, I headed straight to one of my favorite spots in the city: the western garden. Each cardinal direction had its own garden, with each one featuring plants, sculptures, and simulated artwork from cultures around the world. There were always people meandering through the colorful spaces, enjoying the fresh air and, in the springtime, the scents from myriad flowers. When I arrived, there were only a handful of others in the maze of human and natural art.
I paced through the cobblestone paths, trying to get my temper under control. I thought about the images on the screen, the way everyone seemed perfectly fine with treating people like ants under a magnifying glass. I wondered if Serenity knew what her people looked like to Director Kelly. I wondered, too, if my biological parents had known. If not for the kindness of one man, I would be one of the colorful splotches on a screen. If I was lucky enough to survive past the first couple years of life.
Don’t get me wrong: I had always known that the world is not a perfect place. Growing up without real parents or family of my own, an outsider for most of my childhood, I knew that people could be cruel. I had heard enough stories about the savagery of the tribes and the necessity of defending our city to know that death was still a regular part of society, despite the lessons humanity ought to have learned after the war that destroyed civilization.
Abishai met me in the garden almost two hours after I had left the control room. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, chewing his lip as he tried to think of what to say. Finally, he settled on, “How’s it going?”
I laughed. It felt good to release a little tension. “Just fine. You?”
Ab shrugged. “It was going pretty well. I have this awesome teacher who was teaching me how to do my dream job, even though I’m only sixteen, but my psychotic friend lost his mind and started arguing with the director of the entire Archangel system. So, there’s that…”
I tried a smile but couldn’t keep the expression on my face. “He was talking about killing them like they’re a disease to be treated.”
Abishai sighed. “Look, Raph: the director’s kind of a jerk. Even Mr. Holt said so. But we can’t just let the savages come after our city. They’d burn it all to the ground if they could.”
“But shouldn’t we at least feel something about it?” I demanded. “They’re people, Ab! We’re supposed to be different from them because we don’t make war a way of life, but if we don’t even care when others outside our own walls are dying, what’s the point of all of this?” I gestured around at the garden, the city, the tower: everything.
“Have you lost your mind?” Abishai demanded. “You’re acting like you’re friends with those savages. Did you already forget that you were almost killed by one of them already?”
Honestly, I had almost forgotten about the gunfire when I first met Serenity. It had been a very long few days.
“Look,” Ab continued, his tone softer this time. “I get that you are dealing with it differently, but you have to pull yourself together. You’re acting insane.”
I wondered what he would think if he knew what I had really been up to. Probably, he would be fully convinced that I was completely out of my mind. Instead of saying any of that, though, I just said, “I know, Ab.”
We stood awkwardly for a moment.
Abishai broke the silence first, as usual. “If you ruin my chance to work in the control room, I swear I’ll bury you in that fertilizer you always smell like.”
I gave an imperious sniff, looking down my
nose at the taller boy. “Resorting to insults is the last hope of a lesser intellect.”
“Not true,” Abishai replied before punching me on the arm. “There’s always violence.”
I laughed, shoving him hard. Abishai had his flaws, but he was a good friend.
#
The next morning, we returned to school for the week. My first class that day was, unfortunately, programming. I walked a little slower than usual on my way to class, arriving just a couple of minutes after Mr. Holt had begun teaching. He gave me a friendly nod in greeting without breaking his momentum as he explained the day’s lesson. A little tension lifted from my shoulders. To my immense relief, he did not stop me on the way out of class, either.
After lunch, I had to head back out to the fields for my daily assignment. Supervisor Baumgardner had assigned me a relatively small plot to work, no doubt still trying to take it easy on me. I wasn’t about to complain about having less work, especially with the image of a disappointed Serenity in my head.
Even before I started working, I knew that I was going to see her. Call it intuition, I suppose, but I knew that there was no way I was getting through a whole day without facing consequences of one kind or another. Since Mr. Holt hadn’t said anything about my argument with Director Kelley, I just knew that Serenity would be there to scold me for not meeting up with her again. I did not expect her to look the way she did.
I had almost begun to convince myself that everything would be fine when I saw the cool sunlight glinting off something shiny in the woods on the other side of the buffer zone. My heart skipped a beat, whether from dread or excitement I couldn’t tell. After several years of working in the fields, I knew that there was nothing over there to catch the sunlight like that.
Carefully avoiding looking either toward the signal or toward the city, I moved up along my assigned plot toward the light. There were dozens of men and women scattered through the vast fields, most of them contentedly working their sections while listening to music or lost in their own thoughts. No one seemed to be paying much attention to me.
