There’s a beep and the door opens. A man enters, striding past me as if I don’t exist. I wait a second until he’s further down the hall, and then grab the nearly closed door, holding it open. I slam through with a shoulder, gulping at the air, my hands on my knees. Trying to get control.
Someone pushes past me, into the building. “Watch where you’re going,” he says gruffly, and I almost laugh.
The ridiculousness of everything I’ve seen—from the squalor the star dwellers are forced to live in, to the bright-costumed and well-perfumed lives of the sun dwellers, to this new world, stark and sterile and cold-hearted, the home of the earth dwellers—snaps me out of my temporary funk, because despite all that, there are people out there like my mother, like Roc and Tawni, like Tristan—who had it all and gave it all away—who are on the right side. And regardless of the mistakes I’ve made, the people I’ve failed along the way—Cole and my father and Trevor and my little sister, Elsey—I’m on the right side. If nothing else, that’s a truth I can cling to when I’m feeling weak at the knees.
So I stand up straight, take a deep breath, and march on, more determined than ever to bring down Lecter.
~~~
This is a strange place. Beautiful, in a way, with the sun shining through the glass dome, raining down in spots on the pavement as it penetrates the massive sun shade that runs along the curving atrium. But it’s ugly, too. Almost too clean, everything brand new and untarnished. From the paved, unlittered streets to the clear, shiny glass windows on the buildings—constructed of light-colored stone and white-painted metal—the New City is pristine. It almost looks…unlived in, like everyone’s just a visitor, like me.
Evil wears many disguises, some that can be mistaken for beauty.
I shrink against the wall of a building to let someone, dressed similarly to me, pass by, using some kind of machine that appears to be cleaning the already spotless street. He winks at me as he passes, as if he knows just what I’m thinking.
“Excuse me,” I say, and he stops. As he shuts off the machine and turns, I wonder where he’s from. The Star Realm? The Moon Realm? Could he be from the subchapter I grew up in, number fourteen? The possibility excites and scares me.
“Yes?” he says. “Are you okay?” His eyes flick to my battered face.
“Oh yes—yes. I just fell yesterday, I’m fine. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m sort of lost. You see, my chip is malfunctioning and I need to get it replaced. Do you know where I can do that?”
The man chuckles. He has a friendly face. “Are you new around here? I thought the Lower Realms were done sending workers.” Definitely not a sun dweller. His subtle use of “Lower” rather than the derogatory “Lesser” Realms tells me that much. Someone I can trust perhaps?
“You could say that,” I say. “Seems I’m always the last one to arrive.”
He takes it as a joke, his thin, brown beard chasing his cheeks into a smile. “And to think, I thought I’d won some lottery!” he says. “I guess it was, in a way. This place isn’t exactly what I was expecting, but it sure beats the darkness of the Star Realm.” So he’s a star dweller. Or was, I guess. “I’m Avery,” he says.
I shake his offered hand. “Uh, Tawni,” I say, grabbing onto the first name that pops into my head, the name of my good friend. “Tawni Sanders.” I lock it into my memory. Can’t change it now.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Sanders. I have a daughter about your age. If our paths cross again, I’ll have to introduce you.”
“I’d like that,” I say. “About those directions…” I’ve got to get going; I can’t linger here, chip-less and exposed. Several other people have passed in the few short moments we’ve been talking.
“As I’m sure they told you during initiation, the city’s set up in blocks, numbered and lettered. Not the most interesting way of doing it, but it makes getting around easy enough. You’re at the corner of twenty-sixth and J, and you want to get to thirty-third and P.”
“Sooo…” I say, looking up and down the road.
“That-a-way,” he says, motioning down the road I was heading. “Seven blocks, turn right, and then…”—he looks at the dome above us, his lips moving as he counts—“…uh, another six blocks. There’s a big sign on the door, ‘Get Chipped!’” He pumps a fist in the air, which makes me smile. “You can’t miss it.”
“I remember now,” I lie. “Thank you, Mr…Avery.”
“You’re welcome. And it’s just Avery. See you around, Tawni Sanders.”
He turns his machine on and begins pushing it down the road, toward the army medical building.
I go the other way.
~~~
I don’t talk to anyone else until I reach the “Get Chipped!” building. I take in as much of the New City as I can along the way. The sights—uniformed kids walking with their arms folded reverently in front of them, eyes forward, lips closed; soldiers patrolling the streets with automatic weapons held with both hands, like they’re expecting to have to use them any second; cleaners, going about their business, keeping the city scrubbed and buffed to gleaming perfection—to the sounds—the whir of huge turbines set in the dome above, pumping in fresh air that’s apparently gone through some sort of filtration system, probably something similar to what we’ve used for centuries in the Tri-Realms; the hum of various cleaning machines being used by window cleaners, and street cleaners, and everything-else cleaners; the clear clop of the parade of people moving down the streets, rarely stopping to talk, or even look at each other.
The whole thing is giving me the creeps, so I’m glad when I reach my destination.
I enter through a spotless glass door.
A woman with a pointy nose and thick horn-rimmed glasses looks up from a screen. “May I help you?” she drones in a dull, nasally voice, as if she hopes the answer is no.
“Yes…please. My chip was malfunctioning, you see, and I—”
“Name?”
“Uh…Tawni. Tawni Sanders. I went to the medical center and they—”
She silences me with a finger in the air, typing with her other hand. “There’s no Tawni Sanders listed. Spelling?”
“My chip was malfunctioning, deleting inform—”
“Spelling?” she repeats, as if I hadn’t been talking.
I spell it for her and she taps at her keys, with both hands now. “No. Not here. Proceed to the right, to malfunctioning chips.” She goes back to her screen. I take the whole experience as a win.
The door to the right doesn’t have a window. The room beyond is—surprise, surprise—white and sterile, without even a splash of color anywhere. And empty, save for a little window with a circular hole cut in it.
Behind the glass, a balding man with two chins and a bulge in his neck looks up at me. “Name,” he says.
“I already told the other lady my—” I start to say.
“Name,” he repeats. I’ve really got to stop fighting this, just go with the flow.
I sigh. “Tawni Sanders.” I spell it for him before he can ask.
“You’re not in the system.”
“I was,” I say. “My chip was—”
“Your chip must be malfunctioning,” he says. “Doesn’t happen very often, but it does happen. The specialist will call you in shortly.”
He goes back to his screen, but I can’t imagine what he could be looking at considering I’m the only one here. For all I know he might be sending a message to security, who could crash through the door at any moment, fully prepared to shoot me on the spot, a team of cleaners behind them, ready to mop up the blood and gore before it even hits the mirror-like tiled floor.
I sit down thinking about my blood and guts on the floor and wondering whether someone will come by to clean the plasticky chair the moment I remove my butt from it.
Probably.
As I wait, I remember what Avery said, about how this might not be the best place to live, but that it’s better than living in darkness in the Star Realm. Is it really better here? I’ve been to both places, and, although it took some getting used to, I still might choose the Star Realm. At least the people there are real. Dirty and messy and real. Everyone here, except for the cleaners I’ve spoken to, are more like clones…or machines. Inhuman. Fake.