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Chapter 27

“That was incredible!” Gala said excitedly when Charleston and the rest of Red Ship exited the Combat floor. She and some of the others had been watching from the viewing room. Tomorrow was their only day off. If your ship had an early match, then it meant you had most of Saturday off as well. And while they all took their training seriously, there were endless new things to do and places to explore in City Dome, not to mention sleep to catch up on.

“That was close,” Charleston replied with a subdued smile. He was happy she’d stuck around. Professor Stahl had strongly encouraged all of them to stay for as many battles as possible, though only a few from each ship had taken the advice. Most of the losing ships sulked off to complain and strategize, while the winners wanted to celebrate.

“Why so grim?” Gala asked, sensing the tension among Charleston’s shipmates. Red Ship was acting like they’d lost. Ragnar, Dublin, and Vienna all scowled angrily at nothing in particular, while Savannah, the hero of the day, was completely out of sorts. New York’s face looked like a thundercloud, while the others who’d been shot appeared embarrassed. Only Paris seemed unaffected.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Charleston replied quietly. The ease with which he and Gala had talked that first day of ranger class was no anomaly, and they had quickly fell into the habit of walking to and from class together. She was smart and funny, and she made Charleston feel like the most interesting person in the world. It’s true Skopje was usually with them, but Charleston found he liked the boy almost as much as he liked Gala, albeit in a different sort of way.

“Speaking of later,” Gala said, glancing off to her right and pushing a strand of dark hair back behind her ear, “can we talk for a second? Away from your shipmates?”

“Sure,” Charleston replied calmly, though his insides did a flip. “I’ll catch up,” he said to no one in particular before following Gala off to an empty part of the viewing room.

“So,” she began awkwardly, “I was wondering if, with tomorrow being our day off, if you, if you weren’t doing anything, if you’d want to meet up, maybe, somewhere, and hang out. I mean,” she added quickly, “explore the city or something. If you weren’t doing anything.”

Charleston didn’t notice the awkwardness. All he heard was Gala asking him to hang out with her. “That sounds awesome!” he said earnestly.

Gala looked shocked, then a huge smile spread across her face, equal parts relief the asking was over and happiness Charleston had agreed. “Awesome!” she said, awkwardly repeating Charleston’s word. “Let’s meet at Rainbow in Space Dome around 11?”

“Awesome!” Charleston said and grimaced on the inside. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he chastised himself. Don’t you know any other words?

“Okay, then,” Gala continued. “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Charleston replied, but didn’t move. Neither of them did. After a moment, they were both saved from the situation when the viewing room went dark and the next two ships began their battle.

They went their separate ways, both eager to escape the awkwardly exciting moment. Charleston needed a shower, and he guessed Savannah would want to talk about what happened today, even if only with him and New York. He hurried to catch up with the rest of Red Ship.

“What was that all about?” Jacksonville asked him once he’d rejoined the others.

“Nothing,” Charleston mumbled, though he was singing on the inside.

Once they reached their ship, Savannah turned to him and New York and said, “my cabin, twenty minutes.” After a second she looked at Arkhangelsk. “You too, Arkhangelsk.”

Arkhangelsk nodded her agreement, while Charleston watched with a dumb smile on his face. Even through the euphoria of the conversation with Gala, he was impressed with Savannah’s tone. She sounded like a captain.

Charleston took a quick shower and went to grab a snack from the mess, where he found Ragnar hunched over something by the sink. This was the first time Charleston was alone with the Viking and he didn’t know exactly how to approach him or what to say.

“Hey, Ragnar,” he began lamely. “Whatch’ya doing?”

Ragnar turned slightly and grunted at Charleston. He was holding a knife in one hand and an onion in the other. “Ragnar, son of Ragnar, hungry, but stupid ship no food.”

Charleston’s eyebrows rose and he fought to keep the smile from his face. “What are you doing with that onion?” Ragnar looked to be trying to cut it into pieces, but he hadn’t peeled it yet. And this is our cook, Charleston thought with a silent laugh. And surgeon, he remembered, the laughter turning to dread.

“Ragnar, son of Ragnar, make stew, like mother.”

“Have you ever made stew before?” Charleston asked, pushing the thought of a Viking performing surgery from his mind. They had regen nanos, thankfully.

Ragnar spun to face Charleston, the knife pointing threateningly in his direction. “Ragnar, son of Ragnar, not whore or wench!” he shouted.

Charleston almost remarked that, by this logic, his own mother would be either a whore or a wench, but decided against it given the chopping knife in the boy’s hand. “What happened today?” he asked instead, changing the subject.

“What?” Ragnar grunted, turning back to the onion, which was quickly turning into something no longer resembling one.

“In the simulation?”

“The simu…what?”

“The battle? What happened to you during the battle?”

Ragnar grunted again – it sounded angry this time – and continued his knife work with the onion. It was now almost completely flat, its skin poking up through the white mash.

When Ragnar didn’t continue, Charleston walked to the refrigerator and opened it. Like with everything on the ship, space was at a premium, and the refrigerator looked like nothing more than a flat, black panel in the wall. All you had to do to open it was touch some portion of it with your fingers, but if you were Ragnar, son of Ragnar, you probably didn’t even know what a refrigerator was, much less how to open something with no visible handle or hinges.

Ragnar spun around in surprise. “What that thing?” he asked.

“This is where we keep the meat,” Charleston explained, “and other perishables.”

“Perish…what?”

“Things that will spoil if they aren’t kept cool.”

Ragnar grunted in affirmation. Charleston marveled at how much meaning the Viking could convey in that one sound. “Like ice,” he said, reaching his hand inside the fridge.

“Yes, precisely,” Charleston replied, happy some kind of connection had been made with Ragnar’s past experience. He grabbed a package of deer meat and handed it to Ragnar. All the ships had access to fresh meat and produce while they completed their training, though they still had to eat the artificial stuff several times a week.

“Here,” he said, handing Ragnar the meat. “The stove is there,” he said, pointing to the place Ragnar had been butchering the onion.

“Stove?”

“Fire,” Charleston replied.

Ragnar looked around suspiciously. “No wood,” he grunted.

Charleston moved the onion as best he could off the stovetop and ran a finger along the edge of it. A red light appeared beneath his finger. “This is where you adjust how hot you want it,” he explained and pointed to the eye, which was slowly turning a bright red. “Here’re the pots,” he continued, opening another panel to reveal a variety of shiny pots and pans. He grabbed one. “Have you never cooked meat before?” he asked.

Ragnar grunted again. “Sometimes. When hunting. Ragnar cook with fire then.”

“Excellent,” Charleston smiled encouragingly. “Then just put this pan over the eye here,” he said indicating the now fiery red circle on the stove, “and put some oil or butter down, then drop the meat in. It’s as simple as that.”

Ragnar was eyeing the stove with a mix of fear and amazement. He waved his hand over the red circle and snatched it back. “Hot!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, fire,” Charleston replied, placing the frying pan over the glowing circle. “The oil is in this panel,” he said. It was well past the time Savannah had told them to meet in her cabin, and Charleston suddenly felt guilty for not obeying her order. And he was still hungry. “I got to go. Good luck!” he said, hurrying from the room.

“Bloody magic. Bloody wizards,” Charleston heard Ragnar mutter as he dashed from the mess.

“You’re late,” Savannah snapped at him once he’d knocked and entered. Arkhangelsk and New York were already seated around the large table.

“Sorry, I was helping…”

“I don’t care what you were doing,” she said coldly. “How can I expect the others to listen to me when even my friends don’t?” She paused and looked at him, daring him to speak. “Sit down, please,” she said after a moment when he said nothing, her tone still cold. “I want a full report of what each of your teams did out there today,” she continued once he’d sat down. “Charleston, you first.”

Charleston shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well,” he began, “we did what you told us and began clearing each building, moving towards the center in a north-west angle. Eventually, we came to a square, and we decided to split up.” He recounted the events as best he knew them.

“Dublin disobeyed a direct order?” she asked sternly.

Charleston glanced to New York, then Arkhangelsk before answering. As much as he disliked Dublin, this felt like telling on him.

“Charleston?” Savannah prompted none too kindly. “Did you tell him to stay and cover the square or not? Did you specifically tell him not to find high ground or not?”

“Yes,” Charleston said finally, meeting her gaze.

“Thank you,” she snapped. “Arkhangelsk,” she turned to the girl next to Charleston.

Arkhangelsk recounted what happened with her team, about the would-be ambush, being outnumbered, and how Jacksonville and Madison went down.

“And did they obey your orders?” Savannah asked.

“Yes,” Arkhangelsk replied. “They fought well and bravely,” she added after a moment. Charleston was shocked at the seriousness of her tone. “Had they done less, we all surely would have been shot. As is, we were able to eliminate four of the enemy and send the remaining two running.”

Savannah nodded, but said nothing. She turned to New York. “I know how things ended with your team, but tell us how you got to the point that Vienna charged out into an open square and got shot.”

New York met Savannah’s gaze with none of the awkwardness Charleston felt. “We were moving around the perimeter of the city, clearing each building, as you told us, but there was nothing. No sign of the flag, or of White Ship. The outer wall on that side was basically non-existent and the wind was constantly blowing sand in our faces, even when we moved deeper into the city. Vienna was getting increasingly frustrated and kept saying we needed to head towards the center, away from the outskirts of the city. Once we heard the sounds of battle coming from your direction, she didn’t hesitate and ran off to investigate. By the time we caught up to her, she was dead in the square.”

“And did you tell her to wait, to not run off and leave her team behind? Did you remind her that I said approach cautiously?”

“I did my best, but she was already out of sight before I got the words out,” New York replied.

“Yet, she was there when I gave the orders to approach cautiously?” Savannah asked.

New York nodded.

The room fell silent as Charleston, Arkhangelsk, and New York waited for Savannah to continue. When she didn’t, Charleston spoke up. “What happened with your team?” He tried to sound neutral, but he was dying of curiosity to find out how Ragnar ended up dead in the square.

Savannah sighed and the aura of authority she’d been projecting so well cracked. “Much the same as with you two,” she said, indicating Charleston and New York. “We moved through the city, clearing each building as quietly as we could, though Ragnar persisted in grumbling against me for a while. Still, he can move as quietly as the rest of us when he wants to and he at least understood we were in battle. Either his instincts from his Viking days or his training with Professor Thurmond kicked in and after a few minutes of calling me names, he went silent and searched with me and Aurora.

“But once we came to the square, that all ended. We saw the flag,” she paused for a moment, her eyes going distant, “but, what’s worse, we saw one of the whitelings stalking out to grab it. Ragnar charged into the square, holding his rifle like a sword. He was gunned down pretty quickly, but it did distract the whiteling enough to keep her from the flag. At this point, Vienna ran out from our right, either to get the flag or to help Ragnar, and she was shot too.”

“So that’s why Ragnar was holding his rifle backwards,” Charleston said with a laugh.

New York laughed as well, though Arkhangelsk only scowled.

“What are you two laughing at?” Savannah snapped. “This isn’t funny,” she continued harshly. “This isn’t a game. This is training for the most important challenge New Washington has ever faced. The sooner you embrace this, the sooner we become a team.”

The two looked down, their smiles vanishing. Savannah wasn’t done.

“This isn’t Podkind Dome where you can goof off and ignore half your classes,” she continued. “Everyone’s lives depend on us, on us,” she emphasized. “You need to appreciate the weight of our task. You need…”

“Alert!” rang a robotic voice throughout the ship. “Fire in the mess! Fire in the mess!”

Savannah looked at the three of them in turn, shock on her face. “What’s going on?” she asked, leaping to her feet.

“Ragnar,” Charleston cursed.

“What?” she asked. They were all moving now, hurrying from her cabin towards the mess.

“I went to grab a snack and found Ragnar murdering an onion.” Charleston fought back a laugh. “I thought I’d help him, and us, by showing him how to cook a steak.”

“And you left him there?” Arkhangelsk asked in disbelief. “With open flame?”

“It’s not exactly open flame,” Charleston squirmed. “But yes. I realized I was late. I tried to tell you,” he said defensively.

Savannah said nothing and they quickly made their way to the mess. Smoke was billowing from it and down the hallway. As they drew near a spherical object came flying from the room and smashed against the wall in front of them.

“Is that what I think it is?” New York asked staring at the broken metal object.

“Apu!” Savannah cried.

The orb lay broken and sparking on the floor. Curses came from the mess as more smoke gushed forth, threatening to choke them.

“We need something to cover our faces!” Savannah shouted, looking around.

Charleston stripped his shirt off and wrapped it quickly around his mouth and nose, then dashed into the mess. The smoke was thick, but he could make out Ragnar, knife in one hand, frying pan in the other, wildly swinging at another Apu as it attempted to put out the fire. The stove was covered with Ragnar’s own shirt and actual flames were leaping out of it.

“Be gone, vile wizard!” Ragnar shouted, swinging the pan at Apu, which narrowly swooped under the blow and towards the stove.

Charleston dove for Ragnar and tackled him to the ground. The knife went clattering across the floor, but the Viking managed to keep his grip on the frying pan. As they landed, he began hitting Charleston on the back with it.

“Ragnar kill wizard!” the Viking shouted, bringing the pan down again and again on Charleston’s back and shoulders.

With an effort, Charleston grabbed Ragnar’s arm on the backswing and stopped the flurry of blows. He was beginning to gasp for air.

Just then, he heard a whoosh and felt hands reach around him to pin Ragnar down. Another pair of hands hauled Charleston up and dragged him, coughing, from the smoky room, where he collapsed in the hall. Only after he landed on something soft did Charleston realize it had been Arkhangelsk who’d rescued him. And now he was lying right on top of her. Making matters worse, they were both shirtless. She must have taken her top off to tie around her face the same as he.

He struggled to extricate himself from her, but couldn’t get his footing as coughs wracked his body. Arkhangelsk shoved him away and got to her feet. He lay on his back and coughed until he could breathe normally again, then gingerly stood. His back was throbbing.

At that moment, New York half-carried, half-led a struggling Ragnar out of the kitchen and threw him to the ground where he coughed and gasped for air. More whooshing sounds came from the mess and the smoke in the hallway began to dissipate somewhat. Charleston looked around to see the rest of the ship watching in shock and curiosity.

“What the hell happened?” Jacksonville asked, coming over to Charleston.

“Ask him,” Charleston wheezed, pointing at Ragnar.

“It’s not his fault,” Arkhangelsk retorted. She’d already put her shirt back on, and Charleston followed suit before replying.

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s the one who lit his shirt on fire!”

“Because you didn’t tell him how to turn the stove off!”

Charleston couldn’t believe he was getting blamed for this. “He saw me turn it on!”

“He doesn’t understand technology!”

“Enough!” Savannah said sharply before Charleston could reply. “Everyone off the ship. Now!” she yelled when no one moved.

Charleston followed the others out into the docking bay. He was furious Arkhangelsk would attack him over something Ragnar had done. He started towards the exit to Space Branch. He wanted to clear his head and lungs. Savannah stopped him.

“This is as good a place as any to talk about the war game today,” she said. “Everyone gather round.”

Vienna and Dublin were still sulking, but they did what they were told, along with the rest of the ship.

Except for Ragnar.

“Ragnar, son of Ragnar, take no orders from whores and wenches,” he said defiantly, though hoarsely, and turned to go.

Savannah was on him in an instant. She leapt through the air and drove a foot into the back of his leg. He fell heavily to his knees with a grunt. She grabbed his face from behind and yanked so hard Charleston thought his head would come off. The Viking screamed and reached for Savannah’s wrists as she lifted him off his knees and threw him down by his head. He managed to get a hand out to break his fall, but before he could regain his feet, Savannah kicked him hard in the face, once, twice, a third time. He collapsed to his back, blood gushing from his nose and mouth.

Savannah wasn’t finished.

She leapt and drove her knees into the boy’s chest. Charleston heard ribs breaking. Ragnar shrieked in pain.

Savannah grabbed him by the ears and slammed his head into the floor. Then she leaned over him and put her mouth to his ear. Charleston had a momentary fear she was going to bite it off. Instead, she whispered something. After a few seconds, she stood and drove her foot down hard on Ragnar’s face, snapping his head back into the floor. “Get him to Med Dome, New York,” she ordered coldly.

New York didn’t move right away. He, like the others, was staring at Savannah in stunned silence.

“New York?” she prompted quietly.

“On it,” he finally said. “Jax, give me a hand.”

Charleston and the rest of Red Ship silently watched as New York and Jacksonville each grabbed an arm and began dragging Ragnar out of the docking bay towards the exit.

Once they were out of sight, Savannah addressed her crew. “We nearly lost today because Vienna, Dublin, and Ragnar disobeyed orders and acted recklessly.” Word of Savannah’s heroics had quickly spread through the ship to those who hadn’t made it to the square; Charleston had made sure of that.

“It may be called a war game, but we are not playing like children back in Podkind Dome,” she continued, echoing her earlier speech to Charleston and the other team leaders. “The lives of every person in New Washington, both current and future generations, depend on us. We must work as a team if we’re to be successful. We won’t have anyone but each other out there in the deep vastness of space. It’s time we put aside our childish squabbles and act like adults. You may not think I’m qualified to lead us, but you’re wrong. The Planners chose me to captain this ship because I’m the most capable of anyone here to do it. From now on, you will do what I say or you will go to the brig. Is that clear?”

Red Ship was silent for a moment.

“Yes,” several voices finally said awkwardly.

“Yes, what?” Savannah asked, her voice deadly quiet.

“Yes, captain,” more voices responded.

Savannah took a step towards Vienna and Dublin. “Is that clear?” she asked, emphasizing each word.

“Yes, captain,” the two mumbled, staring at their feet.

“Good,” she snapped. “Vienna, Dublin. Go to the mess and clean it up. Assess the damage and report to me in my cabin when you’re finished. Arkhangelsk, Madison. Go to the infirmary and send New York and Jacksonville back here. Make sure Ragnar is getting proper treatment and report back to New York. Paris, Aurora. Do a sweep of the ship, its engine, and its ventilation. Make sure there is no damage. Sofia, check the cockpit. Report to me only if there is something wrong. Charleston, you’re with me.” She spun to a chorus of “yes, captain!” and headed back into the ship. Charleston hurried to catch up.

They didn’t speak until they were in Savannah’s cabin. “That was…amazing!” Charleston said, still stunned from Savannah’s actions.

To his surprise, she burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asked hurriedly, touching her shoulder.

To his further shock, she started laughing, her whole body shaking.

“Are you okay?” he asked, now seriously concerned. “Do you need to go to Med Dome too?”

Savannah kept laughing, tears streaming from her eyes. Finally, she took a few shaky breaths and met his gaze. “Look at my hands.” They were trembling. “My adrenaline is in overdrive right now,” she laughed.

Charleston took a relieved breath. “I really don’t know what else to say,” he said, smiling. “Except that was amazing!”

“I can’t believe I did that,” she laughed again.

“Neither can I!” Charleston said, sharing her laughter. “Not that I didn’t think you could lead us,” he added quickly, realizing how his words could be interpreted. “I just didn’t think you’d destroy Ragnar like that to prove it.”

“Yeah, well, he had it coming,” she replied, her tone suddenly shifting. She sounded both serious and sad. “I don’t like hurting people, you know that.”

And Charleston did know that, perhaps better than anyone else in the ship. Savannah hated fighting, hated having to learn to kill people. That was her biggest weakness throughout their days in Podkind Dome. It wasn’t that she was a bad fighter; she just didn’t like to fight. “So what changed?” he asked.

She took a moment before answering. “I took my own advice, I guess. Our Mission is too important to let anything, even my distaste for violence, prevent us from succeeding. That and I met with Tank a few times for some individual lessons.” She laughed. “He let me practice on him, since he’s even bigger than Ragnar. But he’s also had a lot of experience leading others, soldiers in particular. He didn’t give me details, but it’s clear he spent a great deal of his life in the military.”

“What did he tell you?” Charleston asked, his curiosity piqued.

“A lot of things,” she replied evasively. “But fake it until you make it was probably the most helpful. It didn’t matter how I felt about leading, if I was qualified or not. I just needed to lead and once the others saw me doing that, they would fall in line. And once they did that, I would be leading. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy. You can’t be a leader until you lead. If you think you can’t lead, you won’t be a leader. So, you lead and by doing so, you become the leader.”

Charleston shook his head. “Sounds like a riddle to me.”

“No one can make a leader a leader except for the leader.”

Charleston laughed. “Yeah, that’s not helping any. I’m just glad you took charge and put Ragnar in his place.”

“Speaking of Ragnar,” Savannah said, her tone turning even more serious. “Arkhangelsk was right. You shouldn’t have left him alone in the kitchen with a lit stove.” She held a hand up before Charleston could protest. “She was right, Char. Ragnar is like a big child in a lot of ways, except he’s confused and lost and, my guess, very unhappy. You would be, too, if you were in his shoes. I want you to befriend him and help him figure out his duties. I know you’re not a cook either, but you at least know how to turn the stove on. Make some time to cook with him once he gets back from Med Dome. Have him show you what he’s learning in class. Take him to the Combat floor and train together. He needs us right now, and we’re going to need him in the future, so let’s help him as much as we can. Got it?” she asked after a second’s pause.

“Yes, captain,” Charleston replied with a serious face, though he was smiling on the inside.

 

Chapter 28

 

“Where do you want to go first?” Charleston asked Gala as they boarded Rainbow. He didn’t know what to do with his sweaty hands.

“Have you explored City Dome much?” she asked with a smile. Her dark hair was done differently than usual. It cascaded in wavy curls down her right shoulder. And she smelled differently, too, like flowers and spices and something else that made Charleston’s stomach tingle. The entire elevator was full of her and Charleston was having a hard time concentrating on anything else.

“Uh, no, not really,” he mumbled, meeting her eyes, then looking away at the fast approaching city below. Through the glass of Rainbow, Charleston saw the square in City Dome, Jonathan Stiles standing confidently and proudly in its center. Stretching off behind the large stone buildings ringing the square were more empty spaces and more large buildings. Charleston wiped his hands on his pants. “Have you been up there?” he asked, looking back at her. She was still smiling and he felt his stomach flip.

“There?” she asked, pointing to the area behind the central square.

“Yeah,” Charleston answered. “I noticed it last Founder’s Day. On that side of the square there’re more open spaces between buildings, but on the other side,” he pointed back behind them, “all the buildings look crammed together. It doesn’t make sense to have one part of the city so open and spacious when another is so…so…full of stuff,” he finished weakly. He couldn’t think of the best way to articulate it, but the design of City Dome was different than Podkind Dome or Space Dome, where everything was evenly laid out.

Rainbow came to a halt and the doors opened onto the park, Stiles standing silent sentry over his realm before them in the distance. Charleston tried to ignore the feeling of betrayal seeing the Founder caused him. He knew it wasn’t Stiles’ fault others had made him out to be more than he was, but Charleston had spent his whole life looking up to the man and it hurt to learn the reality didn’t match the myth.

“Let’s go check it out!” Gala said enthusiastically, pulling Charleston out of his dark thoughts and back to the exciting present.

Charleston smiled, holding her gaze this time. They weren’t in the small confines of the elevator anymore, but Gala still filled the space around him. The park looked different now that she was with him, the green of the trees sharper somehow, the cool wind of the artificial breeze more invigorating.

They walked off in the direction of the Council of Nine Building and the area behind it in silence. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly through the glass, a few wisps of clouds in the distance. Charleston was afraid to speak, not trusting his voice to keep his emotions hidden. His hands were still wet with sweat. He hadn’t felt this nervous since the first time he’d competed in one of Tank’s obstacle courses.

Sure, he and Gala had gotten to know each other over the past several weeks in Ranger class, but they’d rarely been alone, and there was always something to occupy their attention. Now it was just the two of them and all they were doing was walking. Charleston didn’t know what to say or how to begin. Gala’s presence next to him filled his mind. Her flowery aroma spoke to him on a primal level.

“Are you going to tell me now, or what?” Gala suddenly asked.

Panic seized Charleston. Had she read his thoughts so easily? How could he just come out and tell her she made his insides feel hot and tingly, that her nearness was making him melt?

“About the war game?” she prompted, smiling what struck Charleston as a mysterious smile. “You promised to tell me about it later.”

Charleston laughed a too loud laugh and breathed for what felt like the first time in minutes. “Oh yeah, I forgot,” he said. “We had some,” he paused looking for the right word, “issues with our chain of command.” He glanced in her direction. She smiled encouragingly, and so he told her all about the battle.

“So this Ragnar, son of Ragnar, really thinks he’s a Viking?” she asked when he’d paused for a moment.

Charleston laughed. “Yeah, and it’s so ridiculous. Just yesterday, he set the kitchen on fire, then attacked Apu when it came to put it out.”

Gala laughed. “That’s insane! How’d that happen?”

Charleston smiled and told her about the failed cooking lesson. “The Planners put him in charge of cooking and, get this, surgery. It’s absurd! Can you imagine a Viking performing any kind of operation?”

Gala laughed again and Charleston’s smile broadened. They were well past the Council of Nine Building now and into the spacious area behind it. It was surprisingly hilly. The houses were of various shapes and designs with one thing in common – they were all very large.

“What is this place?” Charleston asked. “What are these buildings for?”

Gala looked around. “This is where the elite of New Washington live.”

“These are people’s houses?” he asked, shocked. “They’re huge! Who did you say lives in them?”

“I don’t know them personally,” Gala laughed. “But the lead scientists, for instance, have homes up here. Our military leaders. Government officials. Heads of security. The people in charge of making New Washington run.”

Charleston shook his head. Why did one person need so much space? The house they were currently in front of looked bigger than Red Ship itself. It was three stories with ornately decorated white columns framing its entrance and two wings on either side. There was a large yard in front with a fountain bubbling in the center. “Why is there a fence?” Charleston asked.

“That’s a good question,” Gala said, her tone more serious now. “I have an idea,” she continued after a moment, and Charleston felt his insides do another flip at the words. “Let’s go back down the hill and explore the other side of the square.”

“Okay!” Charleston agreed. They headed back down, taking a different road that would allow them to skirt the square entirely. On the way, they passed a commercial district with shops and restaurants. It was similar to what Charleston passed every day on the way to class, only much nicer. Looking around, he noticed something.

“Where’s Ale?” he asked. There were no blue lights gleaming from the walls of the buildings.

Gala looked around a moment. “I don’t see it.”

“Maybe that’s why they have fences?” Charleston suggested.

“It’s weird,” Gala replied. “Ale is everywhere else I’ve been in the city. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed it not being here before,” she finished, looking at Charleston in admiration. “Good eye!”

Charleston beamed. They continued their way towards the other part of New Washington. The sloped streets gradually leveled out. The buildings they passed grew smaller and closer together and the familiar blue light of Ale once again shown from numerous places. Eventually, they reached the more crowded section of the city. Up close it looked like a jumbled mass of walls and roofs, buildings stacked one on top of another in haphazard patterns. The roads, if they could be called that, snaked and wound through this maze of city, narrowing in some places to paths that reminded Charleston of the game trails he and the other rangers were learning to use to hunt in the Nature domes.

“Who lives here?” he wondered aloud. “And how?” He couldn’t imagine navigating these alleys every day, particularly for those people living deep in the sprawl.

“Workers of every sort,” Gala answered. “And those who don’t work.”

Charleston followed Gala as she led him further into the neighborhood through various twists and turns. “What kinds of workers?” he asked.

“Those who aren’t in charge,” she said, laughing for some reason. “The people who work for the scientists and engineers. Those who built our ships and other machines and equipment. I guess the people who work in Farm Dome and the other domes probably live here. I’m sure some of the military have residences here, too, when they’re on leave.”

“How do you know all this?” Charleston asked.

Gala gave him a sidelong look. “I come here sometimes,” she continued hesitantly. She sounded nervous to Charleston for the first time since their date had begun. “At first, I was just wandering through the city and wanted to check this place out.” She led him down an even smaller side alley, looking back as she spoke. “But then I started talking to some of the people here.” She slowed to navigate a particularly cluttered section of the walkway. “Have you ever heard of the Stoics?” she asked.

“The who?”

“The Stoics?” she repeated. “A lot of them live here, too. They’re people who think we’ve let technology take over too much of our lives. They think we’ve lost touch with essential aspects of our humanity.”

Charleston felt a wave of fear hit him. Were these the people Jedidiah was recruiting? Was Gala caught up in it somehow, too?

“Take Ale, for example,” she continued as she led Charleston deeper and deeper into the maze of buildings. “The Stoics think having artificial intelligence monitoring our every move is unnatural and harmful, dangerous even. What if all these orbs suddenly decided they didn’t want to be controlled by humans anymore?”

“Yeah, but they’re just computers, right? Surely there are fail-safes.”

“How do we know that?” Gala asked. Her face was covered in shadows now. Three- and four-story buildings loomed up above them on either side. Charleston was sure it was a trick of perspective, but when he looked up, it seemed like the tops of the buildings were slowly leaning towards one another, threatening to block out the sky.

“Or what if these fail-safes can be overridden somehow? Imagine if someone were able to gain control of all the automated orbs. All that power at the touch of a few buttons. They could take over New Washington! Or worse!”

“What would be worse than that?” Charleston asked, a little shocked by Gala’s sudden change of tone.

“I don’t know…maybe the extermination of some element of New Washington?”

“What? What element?”

“Us,” Gala said simply.

“Wait, what?” Charleston couldn’t help but ask. Green had warned him they were in danger, but how did Gala know? Had she been to the Underground, too? Had one of the other children he met sought her out like Violet had him and his friends? Charleston’s ears were ringing as he tried to figure out where Gala had come by this information. “Why would anyone want to kill us?” he finally managed to ask. “We’re saving New Washington.”

“That’s just it!” Gala replied. “No one knows. It could be a foreign power, only just getting wind of our plans. Or it could be some of our own. You saw those mansions! Those people are living in luxury! What if they don’t want to lose that moving to an entirely new planet?”

Charleston felt his mind disconnect from his body in surprise at Gala’s words. She had to have spoken to Green, but how? When? Why? “Wouldn’t those people be just as powerful wherever we end up?” he asked through a haze as his mind raced to figure out how she knew all this.

“Maybe,” she replied. “But no one knows what will happen, where our new home will be, if we’ll even find one. There’re endless possibilities and, from their perspective, endless risk to their position and their power. That’s plenty motivation.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

She shrugged.

“But it’s not all you, is it? Someone’s been talking to you.” It was more a statement than a question.

Before she could respond, an excited voice called her name from somewhere above them. “Gala!” the voice sounded again. It was an old woman looking down from a second-story window. “Wait right there, dear!” A moment later, a door opened and the woman stepped out. She was stooped over a cane, but her eyes were bright and a smile split her face. “Gala!” she cried again. “You came to visit! And you brought a friend!” she sang. “Come in, come in! I’ll make you some tea.”

Charleston exchanged a curious look with Gala before following her and the old woman through the door and into a dark, cramped room. There was a small, cluttered kitchen in one corner in front of which stood a table and a few rickety chairs. Opposite was the living room with a couch and an armchair. The old woman went to the kitchen and began clattering pots and cups.

“This is Charleston,” Gala said, introducing him. “Charleston, this is Ms. Dorothy, a friend of mine. We met several years ago when I first wandered into this neighborhood.”

“Hello,” Charleston said as relief began pushing back against fear. Maybe this was where Gala had gotten her information. The woman certainly looked old enough to know all sorts of things.

“What a nice young man,” Ms. Dorothy said with a smile, “and handsome.”

Charleston blushed despite himself, as did Gala. “I brought you this,” Gala said, pulling a small sack from somewhere Charleston couldn’t see. “Some fruit and a little meat.”

“Oh, sweetie, you’re so kind to an old woman,” she said, taking the bag and looking through its contents. “Oh, these will go perfect with our tea!” she exclaimed happily, pulling out some raspberries.

Charleston looked on, surprised and unsure what to do with himself. Gala must have squirreled some of their rations away to bring to this old woman, but why?

“Have a seat, dearies, and I’ll bring the tea right over,” she said, waving a hand at the faded old couch.

Charleston followed Gala over to the couch, which looked almost as old as Ms. Dorothy, and sat down on it. He immediately sank into a deep depression, his bottom nearly reaching the floor beneath. The hole was so large that Gala, who had sat down a split second before him, was swallowed into it as well and ended up almost in his lap. They both laughed awkwardly as Gala tried to push her way out of the indentation, but everywhere she put her hands, she found Charleston.

“Now, now,” Ms. Dorothy said in a severe tone, though Charleston heard laughter just underneath, “no hanky panky.” She set a tray with three cups of tea, a few hard looking cookies, and a bowl with the raspberries down in front of them. She then took the armchair opposite the couch and smiled as Gala finally managed to regain her original seat. Charleston’s face was hot.

“What brings you all the way down to the Leaning Tower of Hovel district?” she asked, still smiling.

“The leaning what?” Charleston asked, confused.

“Just a little joke. It’s what I call our illustrious neighborhood,” she explained with a wave of her hand.

Charleston wasn’t sure what to say and so looked around. It was the first time he’d been in an adult’s house in New Washington and he was…unimpressed. The furniture was worn to the point of dilapidation and there wasn’t any sign of technology anywhere. “Are you a Stoic?” Charleston asked suddenly, putting everything Gala had told him together with what he was seeing now.

Ms. Dorothy laughed. “Ah, I see now,” she said to Gala. “You’re showing your friend the ugly side of New Washington. Good for you!” she said, reaching across and patting her on the knee with a smile.

Gala laughed. “Something like that,” she mumbled into her cup.

“Does that mean you are a Stoic?” he asked again.

Ms. Dorothy laughed. “No, youngling, I’m not a Stoic. I’m just old and poor.”

Charleston wasn’t sure what to say. Poverty was something he’d only read about in history books. He didn’t think anyone in New Washington suffered it.

“I’m not against the Stoics,” Ms. Dorothy continued. “I think they have some good ideas, but their end game is unsustainable.”

Charleston looked from Gala to the old woman, a questioning look on his face.

“Go to my refrigerator, dear, and bring me the plate on the top shelf,” Ms. Dorothy told him.

Charleston heaved himself up from the couch and went to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and was shocked at how empty it was. There was a bottle of some liquid in the door, the package of meat and fruit Gala had brought on the middle shelf, and a covered plate where Ms. Dorothy had said it would be. He took it and brought it back to the table, carefully sitting back down in his former spot.

“Take the cover off,” Ms. Dorothy commanded.

Charleston did so and found a small square of ARS, the artificially reconstituted sustenance everyone in New Washington was given to eat on a daily basis, sitting unappetizingly in the center of the plate.

“You’ve eaten this stuff before, right?” she asked. “It’s not very tasty by itself, but what would we do without it?” She paused to gauge the effect of her words. “Without ARS we would have all died centuries ago. It’s technology that created this food substance, just the same as it’s technology that protects us from the dangerous air outside. My problem with the Stoics is they are against technology while they survive because of it. They focus on the negative aspects of it while taking for granted that which serves them. Listening to them, it sounds like they would have us all move back down to the surface to regain our lost humanity.”

“You know that’s not what they mean,” Gala spoke up. “They just think we’ve become too reliant on technology, that some aspects of it should be eliminated.”

“I’m not sure what they mean,” she replied. “But I do listen to their speeches and rants. They want to live with as little technology as possible, but I don’t see them giving it up.”

“That’s not fair,” Gala replied passionately. “Minimizing our reliance on technology doesn’t mean getting rid of it entirely!”

“Yes, but who determines what aspects of technology are worth keeping?” Ms. Dorothy countered. “They complain about Ale, then go back to their own private simulators and lose themselves in alternate realities. It’s hypocritical. Take that attitude to its logical conclusion. Leave New Washington and go back to the surface. Eke a living out in the old mines. But be sure not to use any shovels, axes, or other tools. Those are all products of technology, too.”

Charleston started at her mention of the mines and took a sip of his tea to cover his surprise. Who was this woman?

“Now you sound like one of the Apathetics!” Gala exclaimed.

Again, Charleston tried to hide his surprise. Had everyone but him known these things all along?

Ms. Dorothy laughed. “Now look who isn’t being entirely fair,” she chastised gently.

The conversation continued, largely between Ms. Dorothy and Gala, but Charleston didn’t mind. The more he listened to them, the more he felt certain Gala had gotten her knowledge of New Washington from this woman and not from Green, or worse, from Jedidiah. They talked about the various political factions and the conflicts that sprung up between them and how this related to the Podkind and their mission. Charleston interrupted with questions when he didn’t follow, but he was mostly content to listen and learn.

And he learned a lot. His understanding of New Washington was woefully naïve, he was discovering. The city was divided between those who opposed technology to one degree or another, and those who were for it. On the former side, there were the Stoics and the Workers, who were the more moderate of the two. They only opposed everything becoming automated and taking their jobs; otherwise, they supported technology. On the opposite side of the spectrum were the Technoslaves, or Techies, as they referred to themselves, and for them, the more automation the better. They thought everyone should abandon reality and live only in simulators. Opposite the Workers was the People’s Party, which were the ones in charge now.

An hour later, when they awkwardly climbed off the couch, trying not to cause the other to sink back into the giant indentation, Charleston’s fears were gone. As he’d learned today, Green was far from the only person to think there was a threat to the Podkind’s mission. It was a rumor that had begun soon after they were born, as it turned out.

“Are you okay?” Gala asked after Ms. Dorothy ushered them out with a smile and a wave.

Charleston snapped out of his thoughts and smiled. “Yeah, there’s just so much I never knew before. It’s a little overwhelming.”

“The first time I met Ms. Dorothy I came away feeling the same as you, too. She seems to know something about everything.”

“She was great, don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly. “I can see why you visit her.”

Relief flashed through Gala’s eyes. “I’m so glad you liked her. I was a little worried you’d find it boring.”

The two walked on in silence the remainder of the way out of the Leaning Tower of Hovel district, as Ms. Dorothy had called it. The streets gradually got bigger and they were able to walk side-by-side again. Charleston wasn’t sure who initiated it, but without knowing exactly how, they were suddenly holding hands.

Neither acknowledged the touch. Maybe they needed a break from everything they’d discussed that day, or maybe they were afraid if one of them spoke, they would have to address the physical connection they were sharing and it would disappear as suddenly and as unexpectedly as it had begun. Or maybe they were both living a million intense emotions together through the contact of their two hands.

Either way, they remained silent until Rainbow drew close to Space Dome. As if of their own accord, their hands let go simultaneously when the doors of the elevator opened to reveal their now familiar home. It was getting late in the day, almost dinner time, Charleston realized as his stomach growled in protest of a general lack of food. He hadn’t had much of an appetite that morning before he met Gala. They started the long walk through Space Dome back to their ships.

“Charleston!” a familiar voice sounded from behind them. His stomach dropped. They’d just reached the square with the ship statue. He had a sinking feeling he knew who’d called his name, though he had no idea how the man knew it. He turned and, sure enough, there was the tall, thin man approaching from one of the restaurants that bordered the square.

“Charleston!” the man said again, picking up his pace when he saw the boy turn to look at him.

“I see I’m not the only one who’s made friends,” Gala said playfully.

“He’s not a friend,” Charleston managed to mutter just before the man came within earshot.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” the man said, wringing his hands in front of him and laughing the short, dry laugh that sent chills down Charleston’s spine. “Oh, my friends will never believe I ran into you today! Unless,” he paused awkwardly and his eyes went damp, “unless you want to meet them? Do you want to meet them?” he asked hurriedly.

Charleston’s eyes darted from side to side, only briefly meeting the stranger’s own before glancing away. “Uh, my friend and I still haven’t had dinner.”

“Oh,” the man said in disappointment. “Oh!” he repeated, this time excited. “We could make you dinner! You know I work right over there in that restaurant,” he pointed. “I’m not working today,” he laughed, almost soundlessly. “And I’m not a cook. I’m just a dishwasher. I’m not important like you.” He paused and this time tears really did appear in his eyes. “But we have food at my place. I could make you something!”

Charleston cursed to himself at the opening he’d given this man.

“That’s so kind of you!” Gala said, beaming at the tall man, who soaked in her smile like a sunflower turning towards the sun. He seemed to grow even taller, his chest filling out with pride and happiness. “But I promised to make Charleston and some friends of ours dinner, and they’re waiting for us. Sorry!”

The man wilted as quickly as he had blossomed. “Oh. Oh, of course,” he muttered and Charleston felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Of course you already have plans. Stupid!” he muttered to himself, then looked at Charleston. Something had changed in his eyes. “Next time,” he said and his tone lacked the usual obsequiousness that dripped from his words. “Next time.” Then he turned and stalked back towards the restaurant.

“Wow!” Gala said, letting out a breath when the man was out of earshot. “That guy is crazy!”

“Tell me about it,” Charleston muttered

They entered Space Branch and fell into an easy conversation about class, their shipmates, their professors, and their training in general. Now that they were back in familiar territory, they naturally moved to the comfort of shared experience and their usual topics of conversation. They reached Yellow Ship first and Charleston felt an intense sadness their date had to end.

Gala turned and took both of his hands in her own. “I’m not much of a cook, but we could have dinner together?” she said, her tone questioning.

Charleston thought his face would burst his smile was so big.

The Podkind is a science fiction/fantasy novel written by Johnny Cycles. The next installment is scheduled for December 6th!

Photo by Ruslan Valeev on Unsplash