Survive

by Vera Nazarian

  “Where are we going, again?” Dawn asks.

  “Themisera,” I reply. “Also known as Sky Tangle City.”

  “Is that near the shore of the Golden Bay?”

  “Sort of,” Anu mumbles. “More inland.”

  I explain to Laronda and Dawn what I’ve been told about the dangers of the neighborhood.

  “Good thing I’ve brought my shiny new standard issue gun,” Laronda says, patting her left side.

  “Impressive,” Dawn says with one raised brow and a little smile. “Just please don’t shoot yourself in the foot or shoot one of us by accident.”

  “Laronda’s a pretty good shot, from what I hear,” I say.

  “Yeah, not too shabby,” Laronda says, tapping the headrest of my seat, and then leans back in her own seat with a satisfied look.

  Up in the front seat I hear Anu make some kind of indecipherable grunt.

  Tuar just glances back at us with an amused expression.

  We fly toward the ocean, high over the downtown city center, past the skyscrapers, past the damaged Stadion and the Atlantis Grail “monument” gleaming with gold and jutting with a new angle of lean (the mere sight of it gives me a painful gut-churning sensation, while the deep bone-rattling hum is audible even here, high up in the air).

  Soon, the fiery silver-mauve-blue of the Djetatlan Ocean fills the horizon. However, we start losing altitude long before we reach the shoreline.

  Anu takes us down gradually, exiting the traffic lane, and we see the urban sprawl before us, the low buildings and roofs for many city blocks—or street circles—in every direction. They start to look less polished, and eventually dilapidated, with peeling paint and ragged rusting steel sheets instead of shingles, naked rebar and iron rods, damaged fences, crooked walls, and missing window glass.

  And then I start seeing lines and ropes strung out everywhere . . . and from overhead it suddenly looks like one giant unfinished game of cat’s cradle—giant “fingers” of buildings and bridges hold loops and twists of cable, frozen in strange configurations, up to the sky.

  There can be no doubt, this is Sky Tangle City.

  As we descend closer to street level, busy street traffic takes shape—human figures crowd the street circles, and numerous wheeled carts roll on the ground. This is the first time I’m seeing ground vehicles since my arrival on Atlantis.

  “Whoa, is that an open pile of garbage?” Dawn says, pointing to one side where a small hill rises, smack in the middle of a street circle. Sure enough, it looks like a pile of random construction trash and debris.

  “Lovely,” Laronda says. “Please tell me we’re not going down near there.”

  “We’re not,” Anu replies in a gruff voice from up ahead. “We’re going over to those big main circles—see where the taller buildings begin? That officially marks the beginning of Themisera. If we want to avoid the sky rope junk, it’s best we get down to street level before it gets too thick. Besides, that’s our destination anyway. See that row of angled orange and red roofs? That’s Crooked Circle. And over the next circle, is Main Circle, with the bigger buildings.”

  “Looks busy,” Tuar remarks. “A lot of foot traffic, and those rolling vehicles. Some kind of marketplace?”

  “Street vendors are everywhere,” Anu says. “They don’t need a designated marketplace—the vendors roll their junk from street circle to street circle. Some fixed storefronts along the bigger circles. Otherwise, all rollers. If you want to buy anything, catch a roller and ask what they have.”

  And then he pauses, maneuvering us down at an angle, starting to come down in a weaving pattern to avoid the aerial ropes and cables. I watch out of the window as the two Imperial guard vehicles flanking us begin to maneuver also.

  “You’re right, it does look busy,” Anu mutters. “More so than usual. Too many people down there, looks like a crowd. And what kind of shiny shebet is that—woah! Are those rows of nice new hover cars? What the crap, man? Where am I supposed to land? No place to land! Going to come down right there, on top of that chazuf walking into the street opening, just at the Crooked Circle junction—”

  Moments later, Anu manages to come to a hovering stop at street level, in the middle of a wide junction—a kind of short, straight dash between the figure eights of the street circles. I stare around and up in curiosity, at the peeling-paint-covered four and three-story buildings lining the street on both sides, with clotheslines full of linen flapping overhead, and so many other odd items suspended on ropes, including old furniture and sofa swings. Remnants of sidewalks rise a shallow step above the street, and whatever kind of paving there used to be now resembles gravel-encrusted, beaten dirt.

  However, what gets my attention are the people crowding the sidewalks on both sides, waving and screaming at us. They are poor and badly dressed, and could even be homeless. But they are grinning and laughing and pointing at us—at our three fancy vehicles of shining chrome—and at the other vehicles, which I realize are hovering along the street junction, behind and ahead of us.

  “We’re here,” Anu says, after singing the sequence to stop the car. “But I don’t like it, looks crazy out there. What’s going on?”

  Tuar turns to look at me. “Imperial Lady Gwen, it is your decision. But personally, I don’t recommend you step outside—”

  “Gwen Lark! Imperial Lady Gwen Lark!”

  Suddenly, someone is shouting my name outside.

  I stare in the direction of the shouts and see a familiar, willowy, tall figure of a bronze-skinned man with colorful braids striding toward our hover car. It’s Kokayi Jeet!

  And, oh wow . . . he’s wearing skin-tight, neon-orange pants, a black sleeveless vest jacket, and several layers of glittering, translucent, purple and lavender scarves wound loosely around his neck and toned upper arms. Furthermore, he’s covered in gold bangle bracelets, wide braces of tightly-woven small beads, ropes of chains around his neck, long dangling earrings . . . while his face is painted with dramatic cosmetics. Dark kohl around his eyes, painted carnelian-red lips, gilded lash extensions. He should look like a drag queen but, somehow, he does not, and looks instead like a fierce warrior going into a glittering battle. His face—it looks absolutely radiant.

  I make my decision immediately. “Tuar, I’m going out there,” I say with a grin.

  “Very well.” Tuar nods and starts to open the door on his side.

  Anu groans.

  Laronda and Dawn exchange curious glances, then look at me. We giggle, and start moving.

  The moment the doors slide open, a blast of street noise hits us. Crowds of residents screaming and laughing, strange pounding drums and wind instruments, wild music. . . . The cool breeze is carrying pungent smells of something unidentifiable—the combination is a little rancid and sweaty, a little spicy and sweet, a little burnt and smoky. . . .

  We get out, and Kokayi is right here, waving at me with both hands upraised in a gesture of generosity, as if he’s about to dance. “Welcome, welcome, amrevet! I see you’ve brought many friends—perfect, great!”

  “What’s happening, Kokayi, what is this?” I ask with an excited smile.

  “Everyone is here already,” he replies. “You’re the last to arrive—look!”

  Kokayi points in a sweeping circle around us and I turn with him, seeing other hover cars, and then familiar people. There’s Kateb Nuletat and the woman I came to know as his wife, festively dressed in a pastel and gold-trimmed jacket and dress, respectively. A few steps away, Leetana Chipuo wears a gold slinky dress, and next to her stands Ukou Dwetat—dark-skinned, with short, curly gilded hair, his large athletic frame in well-fitting black and red jacket and pants.

  Then, I suddenly see Brie Walton in a slick black outfit that could be a vinyl cat suit, lounging on the hood of a bright cherry-red hover car—or actually, the sloping nose section of its roof, since this capsule-shaped vehicle doesn’t exactly have an Earth-style “hood”—but the effect is similar. A somewhat sullen Logan Sangre
sits in the front seat of the same car with a blank expression, seemingly ignoring her and doing something with his wrist comm.

  “Hey, Lark!” Brie cries and blows me an air kiss. “Ready for drag racing? Or is it a Goldilocks Mardi Gras? What a circus. . . .”

  Wondering, I turn in the other direction and see Hedj Kukkait, standing next to another vehicle with his arms folded, wearing a conservative pale jacket and pants—far more subdued compared to the others. Seeing me, he nods with a brief smile.

  And then, one by one, I see every fellow Champion of this year’s Games of the Atlantis Grail. All ten of us are gathered here in this unlikely spot, hover-idling our vehicles in the middle of this tiny stretch of street.

  Furthermore, it’s not just our hover vehicles filling the road. Looking in both directions down the junction, I see strange looking land-crawler platform contraptions that must be carts that have been built up and decorated in a hurry. They sprout beams and arches of metal covered with flowers and bits of multi-colored gauze fabric, scarves and ribbons streaming in the wind, and garlands of small golden bells, ringing and pealing like wind chimes. . . .

  It’s almost as if these things are parade floats.

  Just as it occurs to me, Hedj Kukkait says, “We are here. So, what now, Kokayi?”

  “Yes, Jeet. Why did you bring us here?” This time it’s Rurim Kiv, speaking in an almost haughty, deep voice from a few feet away, once again seeming to materialize out of nowhere, out of thin air. . . . What is it with this guy and his stealth mode?

  It occurs to me this is the first time I’ve ever heard Rurim Kiv speak. His voice is oddly magnetic, and at this proximity he looks even more handsome and striking in a metallic black jacket and pants.

  Kokayi whirls around and laughs. “Aha! Let me tell you why. Come closer, im nefiro, and all the rest of you Champions! Rea Bunit, Mineb Inei! Kateb and your lovely wife! All of your friends and family! Come, Come!”

  “All right, I’m here,” Brie says, leaping off the roof of the hover car. “What now, Entertainer-boy?”

  Kokayi grins widely. “Very well! I’ve requested your glorious presence here, for my Parade!”

  Brie frowns. “Okay, what?”

  “A Parade, amrevet! My Parade! Simple, short, and easy! You will all join me as we get up and ride on one of the many godateti that the Games officials had so wonderfully ordered, to my exact specifications, on such short notice—” and he points at the decorated platforms—“and we go for about twenty street circles, turning around each, until we come to a stop where I tell you. Then we go and visit someone! That’s it! Then you’ll be free to leave, having fulfilled the terms of my Champion wish request!”

  And then he adds, “Be sure to have someone drive all your pretty, shiny, so wonderfully expensive hover cars behind your godatet, for maximum effect. Either that, or set them to follow us on auto-pilot. Oh, and one more thing—as we ride, we throw things—fun things—at the people on both sides of the street! The stuff is all on top of each godatet inside big baskets—you’ll see it when we get up there—”

  “Oh, man. . . .” Brie shakes her head in a confused grimace that’s both a wincing frown and a grin that only she can pull off without looking too ridiculous. “I was really hoping for drag racing. Or maybe, pizza.”

  Hedj Kukkait however suddenly chuckles. This is possibly the first time I have seen Hedj amused. “Very well. When does your Parade begin?”

  “Now!”

  Kokayi raises both hands and claps them together overhead to get everyone’s attention. He then cries out in Atlanteo, in a resonant voice that’s suddenly being artificially amplified by a gadget on his lapel to echo in the expanse. “Welcome, everyone, welcome! Sky Tangle City beans and pebbles, this is your party! Today we celebrate! You know us! We are the Champions of the Games of the Atlantis Grail, but today all of you are the winners!”

  There is rolling laughter in the crowd, and a few hoots and whistles, and also quite a few claps. Someone yells back at him from the sidewalk, and I strain to understand this thickly accented flavor of Atlanteo, “Crazy Kokayi? Kokayi-bean! Is that you? No!”

  “No way, Bay-bean, you came back down here to the Sky Tangles! Bah! It is you!” People on all sides of the pedestrian walkways start calling out. “Kokayi Jeet! It’s Kokayi, for real! He came back home! Eeeeeee! Eeeeeee!”

  “And look, the other Champions! White Bird! Kuk-Ku!”

  “That’s the Imperial Bride! The Bride! Shoe-lace Girl!”

  Now, more and more voices pick up the cries, as more people start coming out of the houses, as the din grows.

  Laronda, Dawn, and I stand with the hover car behind us, with Tuar moving in protectively to block anyone from approaching me too closely. The other four Imperial guards surround our vehicle, keeping a perimeter.

  “Imperial Lady Gwen,” Anu says behind me, yelling loudly above the noise. “I am supposed to remind you to be careful now, okay? The Imperial Lord said to be careful, so stay close—”

  I nod to him. Then I exchange glances with my friends, “Ready?” I ask. “This is crazy, but let’s do this thing!”

  And with those words I follow Kokayi and the other Champions toward the parade floats, or godateti, wondering momentarily why they are wheeled carts and not actual hovering platforms that would be so much easier, given all that availability of orichalcum. . . . And then I understand. Here, there is little to none of that.

  This is a place of poverty.

  And Kokayi’s “parade” is intentionally making do with what’s available at Sky Tangle City. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had the Games officials specifically commission the locals to make the floats to order, with their own basic local resources, and they got paid for it.

  Suddenly I feel deeply ashamed—for being nicely dressed, for the expensive fancy cars, for having had a better meal this morning than any of these people. . . . A painful new burden of realization comes to me that here is yet another layer of Atlantean reality that I am unprepared for as a future Imperial Consort. These people—they will be my people as much as any other and something must be done. Maybe I can talk to Aeson about this, ask him to take an interest here, shine a light on this? It’s likely he already knows, maybe even has plans for future improvement, but I will not simply ignore it and leave it to chance. And so, I mentally add this to my to-do list.

  “Hurry, hurry! Come along!” Kokayi calls out to us, running ahead of everyone. He hops on the biggest, shiniest, most elaborately decorated godatet that’s waiting for him at the other end of the street junction, just before Main Circle begins. “Who wants to ride with me? You, amrevet, Gwen Lark, come up here! And bring Tuar! Ah, so good to see you whole again, im nefiro! You were far too magnificent to die, Tuar, and the wind gods have graciously spared you! Up you go!”

  “Glad to be here, Kokayi, and glad you won,” Tuar says, helping me up onto the platform which is smaller than I thought, without that much standing room on the top because of the upright decorated beams, and all the huge baskets lined up around the perimeter. Some are filled with flowers, others with what could be candy or edible bars in wrappers, while others yet are brimming with shiny, metallic, flat circular chips that might be coins.

  “What’s that?” Laronda says, pointing at the coins.

  “Iretar!” Kokayi says with a laugh.

  “For real? These are actual coins, as in, money?” I say.

  “Oh, yes! The financial institutions had to come up with so many coins that I probably cleaned out at least twenty currency branches in the area!” Kokayi leans closer and dips his hand into the huge basket of iretar. He picks up a fistful of coins and suddenly throws them at the crowd.

  In response the crowd shrieks, and people and children scatter after the coins as they roll on the beaten dirt and gravel of the street. I notice that all the upper windows in the houses are filled with watching people, as they look out on the commotion happening below. Since we on the platforms are elevated considerably ab
ove street level we can look into the windows and look back at all the residents.

  I glance behind me and see other Champions climbing aboard other godatet platforms, as their friends or loved ones accompany them, and in some cases stay behind to manually drive their hover vehicles as part of the parade. Brie is on the godatet immediately behind us, together with Mineb Inei and some of his children, while apparently Logan Sangre is down below, driving their hover car. Why is Logan even here? I momentarily wonder. . . .

  Our own platform is filled with Imperial guards, in addition to myself, Dawn, Laronda, Tuar, Anu, and of course Kokayi himself. Meanwhile, our three hover vehicles are set to auto-pilot, and they move in place automatically to follow directly behind our platform.

  “Wave, wave at my people!” Kokayi exclaims, starting to wave at the ever-growing screaming crowds on both sides. “And now, start throwing! Give them iretar, flowers, treats! Give them everything we have, until we run out!”

  Filled with strange excitement, I reach with both hands deep into the nearest basket and start tossing things in all directions.

  Tuar and the four guards watch us and our surroundings, while Laronda, Dawn, and even Anu join me and Kokayi, and start laughing and throwing.

  Then, I feel a lurch underfoot, as our godatet begins slowly moving along the uneven ground of the street. At the same time, Kokayi presses some kind of hand-held gadget, and a blast of loud music and drums explodes all around us, as mega-amplifiers pick up the live musicians somewhere far in the back and project their joyful sound to the front of the parade.

  With crazy noise, music, and laughter, Kokayi’s Parade embarks on its route, toward the heart of Sky Tangle City.

  Chapter 27

  As we roll deeper into Themisera, throwing money and treats, we follow the curving path along each street circle, like a roundabout. Upon completing the perimeter of each circle, we enter the next short junction which leads us to the next circle, and so on.