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Chapter 21

Charleston found his room, or cabin as it was called since they were on a ship, and took a minute to explore it. It was cozy, bordering on small, though it was still bigger than the room he’d shared with New York in Red Dome. Everything about it had been carefully designed to maximize the limited space available. Drawers for his clothes were squirreled away under the bed, which itself could be covered by unhooking a panel hidden in the wall above it to make a large table.

In the opposite corner from the bed was a small seating area for two with a little round table and a cushioned couch flanking it. Behind the couch were two empty shelves where Charleston could store or display his belongings, though he had scarce few of those. In the corner by the door was the bathroom, a tiny space just big enough for a sink, shower, and toilet. Next to it was the closet. Whoever had brought up his things had already put them away in their proper places.

But that wasn’t all there was to the room he quickly discovered. There was a hatch in the floor that opened to reveal a ladder leading to a small ship. It was big enough for two, maybe three people, and it was full of buttons and controls Charleston was afraid to touch. He couldn’t help but grin as he climbed in and looked around.

He didn’t linger, despite his curiosity. They’d been given the rest of the day off and he was eager to put his plan into action. He had to get to Violet. He had to get the truth out of her, one way or another. That attack was the final straw. There was something bigger going on in New Washington and, no matter what the others said, Violet was at the center of it.

He slipped from his cabin and headed for the exit. Unfortunately, their ship was still a maze to him. Though maze wasn’t the correct word, since it was laid out very carefully and logically, just like his cabin.

A puzzle, he thought. It was more like a puzzle, with narrow corridors and ladders crisscrossing its length, width, and height, each leading to more passageways, which each led to specific rooms and places on the ship. If you turned down the wrong corridor, you could end up in the galley, which was what the kitchen was called, instead of the Combat floor. Or you could end up in the engine room, located in the center of the ship, rather than on the deck, which was what the large space just behind the cockpit was called.

He took two wrong turns before finding one of the main corridors that led to the exit. Luckily, he encountered no one on his way out. A few minutes later he was riding the elevator back down to Podkind Branch. Excitement tinged the edges of the calm he always felt before battle.

And it was only now that he realized he was prepared to do battle. What did that mean? Did he agree with the others that Violet was the enemy? If so, why was he so eager to find her again? Why did he think she would do anything but mislead him further?

These were all questions he felt sure Professor Duman, their Mindfulness and Maturity professor, would be proud of, Charleston thought. But he didn’t have the time or the desire to sit with them to discover their answers, and that was something Duman wouldn’t think praiseworthy.

The doors to Podkind Branch opened, interrupting his self-reflection. Charleston warily stepped out of the elevator. He wasn’t sure he was allowed back, but so far Apu hadn’t swooped down screaming alerts. Maybe they really were considered adults now.

Still, he stalked silently down the peresilium tube towards Podkind Dome and the forest within. The sun hung low in the sky now, its golden light a crisp, almost tangible thing. He marveled at how empty his former home already felt just a few short hours after the Podkind had left it.

He drew close to the entrance to Podkind Dome and slowed. He figured if he was going to be stopped or caught, then it would be here. But the doors slid open and he quickly made his way towards campus. Once there, he took as many back paths as possible, staying close to the buildings and keeping a sharp lookout for anyone. A part of him expected to hear the nasal voice of Professor Slive behind him at any moment, delighted to find Charleston up to no good.

But there was no one. It was as if everyone and everything had moved out of Podkind Dome with the podlings.

In a few short minutes, he was once again on the familiar path through the forest that would lead him to Staircase Stream and their fort. He wondered if it would be here when the next generation of children was born. He climbed the rocks up to the fire pit and looked around. Violet was nowhere to be seen, or heard, rather, but he knew all he had to do was wait.

To pass the time, he half-heartedly poked around the fort while trying to keep his breathing steady. Any minute, Violet would appear and then, then… He hadn’t thought this part through. They’d already confronted her once with their, well, Savannah’s, doubts. They’d already accused her of being the enemy. What more did he hope to get now, short of more half-truths and non-answers?

Still, an inner voice told him this time would be different. Without the others, Violet would be different. He didn’t know why, but he felt a connection between them. She would tell him the truth now that Savannah and New York weren’t here hurling accusations at her.

Before he could think more on this, a familiar singsong voice sounded from somewhere in the woods. “I knew it’d be you!”

“Violet!” Charleston shouted, stepping out of the fort and peering into the trees around him. The sun was lower in the sky now and the forest was quickly filling with gloom and shadows.

“Imma right here,” she replied in a new accent, but still from the woods.

Charleston almost replied, then stayed silent. Savannah was probably right about one thing: Violet would keep doing this as long as it annoyed him. Anger suddenly flooded through him. Anger and embarrassment. Why had he thought she’d be any different this time? Here she was again playing her stupid games. He crossed his arms and waited.

“Ooh,” her voice was behind him now. “You’ve learned!”

Charleston jerked unintentionally, even though he’d expected her to do this kind of thing, and spun to face her. She stood on the opposite side of the cold fire pit, hooded in her familiar brown cloak.

“Where are your friends?” she asked lightly. “The big one? The annoyingly accusatory one? Stayed on the ship, did they?”

Charleston started. “How did you know about that?”

Violet laughed and pushed back her hood. Her eyes were sparkling and a smirk twitched her lips.

Charleston sighed, then changed tack. “That attack on the patrol today. That was you? Or your people?”

Violet sighed. “And here I thought you were different.”

Despite himself, Charleston felt a sudden disappointment at her words. “What does that mean?”

“You think I’m the enemy, too.”

Charleston shook his head. “No?” but it came out almost like a question. “I don’t know. I just know that strange things have been happening ever since I met you. I want to know what you have to do with it all. What’s your whole part in this, if you’re not the enemy? Especially if you’re not the enemy. It would make some sense, I guess, if you were from some enemy dome, here to infiltrate us, though I’d question your approach. But if you’re not the enemy, then I have no idea what you’re doing here. What’re you hoping to gain?”

Violet beamed at him. “Now those are right questions!”

“But you’re not going to tell me,” Charleston said, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice.

Violet stood abruptly and headed towards the forest’s edge in the direction of Dragon’s Heart.

“Where are you going?” Charleston called after her.

“I’m not going to tell you,” she said from just inside the trees bordering their fort. “I’m going to show you.”

“What?” he replied lamely. But she was already gone, her brown cloak blending effortlessly in with the forest. He waited another second, then ran after her. Excitement flooded his chest. And relief. He’d been right to come here alone. He was finally going to get some answers. “Where are we going?” he asked once he’d caught up with her.

“Dragon’s Heart,” she replied.

“Why?” Before she could answer with something snarky, he said, “I knew that’s how you disappeared the first time we met!”

“Did you now?” she asked and her tone sounded moderately impressed.

Charleston felt a swell of pride at this and cursed silently to himself. What was it about this girl, this 11-year-old girl, that flustered him so much?

Once they reached the misshapen stone, Violet pulled a small bag out from somewhere in her cloak. “Put this on,” she said, tossing him the bag.

Charleston undid the ties and peered curiously inside.

“Just take it out and put it on,” Violet prompted as she pulled what looked like leather straps from another place in her cloak.

Charleston dumped the contents of the bag in his hand. It was a mask.

“Make sure it’s covering your eyes, nose, and mouth. You don’t want any of the air getting in those.”

“Air?” Charleston asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Violet finished attaching the straps to her waist and shoulders and looked at him. “Yes, air. We’re going outside.”

Charleston’s stomach flipped.

“Now come here,” she commanded, holding more straps out in front of her. They were attached to the ones encircling her torso. “Turn around and face the other direction,” she said after he approached. “Unless you do be wanting to get sweet with me,” she said in that lilting voice she liked to tease him with.

He blushed, embarrassed that she kept flirting with him, and turned around. He felt her body press against his back as she tossed the straps over his shoulders and passed them under his arms and back to the harness she wore. “Put this around your waist,” she said, handing him another strap from behind. “And these between your legs.”

Charleston did as he was told and squirmed as the straps tightened. When she’d finished, she was so tightly pressed against his back he could barely move.

“How are we supposed to walk in this get up?” he asked, trying to turn to look at her.

“Walk?” she asked dubiously. “We’re not walking. We’re flying.”

She suddenly pitched sideways towards Dragon’s Heart, pulling Charleston off his feet.

He instinctively closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact of the jagged rock. Nothing but emptiness met them. They were falling. He opened his eyes but saw nothing at first. Then, in an instant, light filled his vision.

OUTSIDE! Charleston thought. He was outside New Washington, free falling through the air. He turned his head and saw the gleam of the Trunk in the last rays of the setting sun rush past him. The air was hot, hotter than he’d ever imagined. He laughed and screamed alternately as they fell, half scared, half exhilarated.

“Quit squirming,” she shouted in his ear, just barely audible over the rush of air and the mask she wore.

They fell for what seemed like forever.

Just when he thought they’d plummet straight to the ground, their downward motion jerked abruptly to a halt and they began gliding horizontally through the air. He turned his head to see Violet’s brown cloak splayed out behind them, wind filling it like a sail.

They really were flying now.

Charleston screamed again in excitement.

After what felt like minutes, he began wondering where they were going. There weren’t any real landmarks he could see to guide them. The surface looked like one long swath of darkness. Nevertheless, Violet was clearly angling them downwards and at an alarming rate, despite the cloak’s drag.

The ground below was rapidly approaching, no longer indistinct. He could make out rocks and ridges and other features now. He heard himself scream again. They were going too fast to survive the landing, he was sure of it.

“Hold on!” she shouted, then twisted them in the air. They were falling back-first now, the cloak uselessly flapping at their sides.

“What are you…” But he didn’t get to finish. They hurtled into the ground, the impact jarring him hard against her. His vision went black. He thought for sure he was dead, a part of him realizing that if he thought he was dead, then it meant he wasn’t.

“Well,” suddenly sounded in his ear. Hands were reaching around him, unfastening the straps. “Not my smoothest landing, but I’ve never tried it with a passenger.”

Charleston was too stunned to respond or move.

“Anytime you want to get off me,” she prompted, then pushed him on his side when he made no move to roll over.

He blinked a few times, but otherwise stayed motionless.

“Charleston?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice, audible even through her mask. “Charleston! You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He couldn’t believe it, but she was right. He felt a little battered, but otherwise he could move all his limbs.

He sat up finally and looked around. They were in a very large, very smooth indentation in the earth, as if a laser had cut out a long notch in the rock and dirt. “How?” he finally managed.

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” she said with a laugh. “Now get up. We still have a ways to go.”

Charleston slowly picked himself up and examined his limbs.

Violet laughed again. “You’re okay,” she said. “Seriously, Char, we need to get moving.”

It was the first time she’d used his nickname and it had the desired effect. He snapped back to himself and started off after her along the rocky, broken ground. As he moved, the rush and the danger of the fall were replaced by his curiosity about old Earth.

It was finally sinking in that he was standing on the Earth’s surface for the first time in his life. In fact, he was surely the first of the Podkind to do so. It wasn’t what he’d expected. It was dry and dusty, brittle almost.

“What are you slowing down for?” Violet asked from ahead of him.

“Sorry,” he called. “It’s just all so interesting.”

“What, this?” she asked, gesturing to the ground around them. “If you think this is fascinating, just wait. Now, quit lollygagging.”

“Lolly what?” he asked, picking up his pace.

She ignored him and continued walking, stopping every so often to get her bearings.

“It’s just up ahead. Be careful,” she warned.

Charleston followed her, peering hard into the gloom for any sign of anything.

“We’re here.”

“What?” he asked. “There’s nothing here.”

Violet pointed to a dark circle a few steps in front of them.

Charleston looked again. “Is that a hole?” It was massive, stretching out before them as far as he could see in the fading light. “What is it?”

“A mine shaft,” she replied. “We’re going down it.”

“How?” he asked.

Violet laughed. “The same way we got here.”

Charleston’s stomach lurched at the thought of another fall. “Do we need to strap together again?”

“Not if you can hold on tight enough.”

Charleston’s face went hot again.

Violet laughed, though how she knew he was blushing through his mask was a mystery. “Doncha be worrying, laddie. Ah’m not gonna bite.”

Charleston’s blush deepened, but he stepped towards her confidently.

“That’s a nice boy,” she said encouragingly. “Now wrap those strong arms around me and hold on for dear life.”

Charleston put his arms around her. She smelled of leather and sweat and something else that made Charleston’s stomach tingle.

“Tighter now,” she said.

He squeezed and she jumped into the shaft.

Again they were falling impossibly fast. Charleston’s grip tightened and he snaked his legs around hers, all embarrassment forgotten as he held on with all his might. A sound filled his ears and it took a moment before he realized it was himself screaming.

Violet did something with her cloak again and it shot out above them like a balloon. They jolted upwards before descending slowly down the shaft. They arced lazy circles lower and lower towards a point deep below them. It was just like his test, when he’d parachuted to the beach, only this descent was much more controlled and much less dangerous.

A light eventually came into view. It grew larger and larger until he could see it was coming from a string of lanterns hanging from the wall.

“Almost there now,” Violet spoke into his ear.

A few moments later they thunked down softly on the shaft floor, stumbling awkwardly over each other’s feet until they collapsed on their sides. Violet was laughing, her mask nowhere to be seen. “You can let go now,” she said.

Charleston released her. She took a deep breath and rolled away from him. “I think you bruised my ribs,” she complained, rubbing her back and sides tentatively. “That was some embrace,” she added in a soft voice.

Charleston couldn’t tell if she was still teasing him or not. He slid his mask off and took a hesitant breath.

“It’s fine,” she said, standing. “We’re deep enough the air here isn’t toxic.”

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around. The light from the lanterns cast long shadows that did little to reveal what lay beyond their landing place.

“This is one of the mines,” Violet replied. “One of the oldest, actually, and one of the deepest. It connects to just about everything else down here.”

“Everything else? There’s more?”

Violet laughed. “I told you there would be more. Let’s go. We’ve still a ways to go.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Green,” she replied. She took one of the lanterns hanging along the wall and signaled to Charleston to do the same, then turned and headed down one of the three tunnels that shot off from the shaft like spokes on a wheel.

“What’s Green?” he asked as they went.

“Not what, who.”

 

Chapter 22

Charleston blinked.

“Green’s the oldest of us,” Violet continued. “I’d call him our leader, but he doesn’t like that appellation.”

“Leader of what?”

“The Underground,” Violet replied. “The land of the rejects. The forgotten ones. New Washington’s failed experiments.”

Charleston didn’t know how to respond to that. “So these are the mines,” he finally said lamely. They were moving steadily down now, deeper and deeper into the Earth.

“Yes and no. They were the mines. They’ve been abandoned now for a long, long time. Over the centuries, those who’ve lived here have carved out homes, cities even, all more or less connected by tunnels like this one. Some people say the tunnel system spans the entirety of old America, but I’m not so sure.”

“You said those who live here,” Charleston began. “Are you one of those? Do you live down here?”

Violet gave him a piercing look. “Some of the time,” she replied evasively.

“But you said you were from New Washington.”

“I am.” She walked on in silence for a few minutes. “Doncha ya be frettin’, wee one,” she sang back to him suddenly, “t’all will be clear shortly.”

He didn’t press her further, as much from his own sudden weariness as from any desire to be polite. The comedown he was experiencing after two death-defying falls left him exhausted, his limbs rubbery.

“Here,” Violet said, passing back a flask she produced from within her cloak. “Water,” she said by way of explanation when he hesitated.

Charleston drank deeply from the bottle, then passed it back. He followed her through the tunnels in silence after that, the immense darkness surrounding them pressing down like a physical thing, stifling both speech and thought. He lost track of time, so that when they eventually stopped at what looked like a large metal box, he had no idea how long they’d been walking.

“We’ll be moving a bit faster now,” Violet said, indicating the box. It was rectangular and sat on four wheels, which rested on two metal rails embedded in the ground.

“What is this thing?”

“It’s our ride,” she replied with a smile and nimbly hopped in. She held out a hand to Charleston.

“I got it,” he replied, brushing the hand aside and leaping in next to her. He’d been expecting another cramped space and Violet’s body pressed uncomfortably against his, but to his surprise and, oddly enough, disappointment, the metal box was fairly spacious.

“You can sit next to me, if you’d rather cuddle,” Violet offered with a slight smile.

Charleston’s face went hot yet again. Her voice lacked its usual mocking flirtatious tone and he wondered for a split second if she’d been hoping for a smaller space, as well. “How do you do that?” he asked instead, crouching opposite her in the cart.

“Do what?” she asked, reaching an arm out behind them as she spoke. With a sudden jolt, the cart began moving. The rails sloped gently downwards, and they gradually picked up speed.

“Always seem to know what I’m thinking.”

“So you do want to cuddle!” she exclaimed.

“Just because the thought crossed my mind doesn’t mean I wanted to act on it,” he replied curtly.

“Ooh! Good answer!” Her joking tone was definitely back now.

They’d picked up quite a bit of speed at this point, and Charleston turned to face the direction they were riding, the wind refreshing in his face. There was an earthy, musty odor he found strangely familiar and comforting.

“I shouldn’t tease you so much,” Violet offered into the whoosh of the wind. “I’ve a lot more experience reading people than you and you’re basically an open book. You wear your emotions on your sleeve.”

“What?” he asked, confused by her odd expressions.

“You don’t conceal what you’re thinking or feeling very well,” she explained. “I’m surprised they didn’t teach you that in your classes.” She paused for a moment. “Or maybe it’s just when you’re around pretty girls.” She smiled playfully again.

Charleston frowned and turned back to the front of the cart. They were moving very quickly now. Where were they going? Unfortunately, the lanterns they still carried did little to dispel the darkness.

The cart pitched up suddenly, knocking Charleston painfully against its side. They were racing up a long, sloping hill now.

“Where are we going?” he asked again.

Violet rolled her eyes. “We’re just about there,” she said, nodding towards the front of the cart.

Charleston turned, though he could still see nothing beyond the circle of light around their cart. But they were slowing down now.

Suddenly they reached the apex of the long hill and Charleston gasped. A huge cavern full of lights opened up beneath them.

Before he could take it all in, though, the cart plummeted down the other side before leveling out. Stone buildings came into view, then flew past as the cart took them deep within an ancient city. It eventually came to a halt at some kind of staging point, joining a number of identical looking carts. Violet climbed out and offered him her hand.

This time he took it.

“Welcome to the Underground,” she said with a smile. “Do you want anything to eat before we go see Green?”

Charleston stared at her dumbly, then looked around without answering. They were in a large underground city, the gigantic cavern’s ceiling lost in the darkness above them. Judging by the number of lights he’d noted on their descent, the place was easily the size of City Dome.

Something moved in the shadows behind the mining carts, and Charleston dropped into a fighting stance.

“Easy there warrior,” Violet said softly before turning to the person approaching them. “10-16!” she called.

“I thought that might be you, Violet,” the person replied, stepping out of the shadows. It was a man, slightly taller than Charleston, with close-cropped hair and a square jaw. He was wearing a brown cloak that looked similar to Violet’s, but underneath he had on a bright pink tunic that clashed sharply with his yellow pants. “And you brought a friend,” he said, turning to meet Charleston’s probing look.

It was only then Charleston noticed something off about the man. His eyes were colorless.

No, not colorless, metal looking.

“I’m 10-16,” he said, extending a hand towards Charleston.

Charleston instinctively took a step back.

Violet laughed. “He’s not very well-versed in social graces,” she explained.

Charleston blushed, remembering his first meeting with Violet. “Sorry,” he muttered, stepping towards 10-16 and holding his hand out awkwardly in midair between them.

“No, silly,” Violet laughed again. “You’re supposed to clasp hands, remember?”

Charleston’s blush deepened and he stepped closer, grabbing 10-16’s hand and squeezing it.

10-16 laughed and Charleston was surprised to see he had no teeth. “I know a thing or two about struggling to assimilate to human society.” He paused. “Now’s usually the time you tell me your name,” he prompted.

“Charleston.”

“And now…release,” 10-16 said, laughing his toothless laugh again and letting go of Charleston’s hand.

Charleston held on a beat longer before letting go. “What are you?”

“Like I said,” Violet interrupted before 10-16 could answer, “social graces. We’re off to see Green,” she said, changing the subject. “Want to come?”

“Sure!” 10-16 replied. “It’s been boring here of late. Nothing but work, work, work.”

“Tell me about it,” Violet replied and set off towards the center of the city.

Charleston felt out of place as he followed her. And it wasn’t just that he was out of place here in this cavern deep below old Earth. Violet’s chitchat with 10-16 sounded so different than the way she spoke to him. It was comfortable and familiar, but it was more than that, too. By the sound of things, Violet had an entire existence other than being the mysterious girl in the woods.

Of course she does, he thought, mentally chastising himself.

He followed Violet and 10-16 deeper into the city, eagerly listening to their conversation while taking in the new sights, sounds, and aromas. It smelled surprisingly appetizing and his stomach growled noisily.

“Sure you don’t want dinner?” Violet asked, turning to give him a small smile.

“I’m starving!” he confessed.

Her smile widened. “This way, then,” she pointed and led them between a few more stone buildings into a large circular space full of tents and tables.

Charleston’s senses were overwhelmed. Not only did it smell amazing, like nothing he’d ever encountered, but there were bright colors everywhere, often in jarring and shocking combinations, much like 10-16’s outfit. There were pinks, purples, oranges, reds, yellows…colors he didn’t even know the names of. And the circle was full of motion, full of people and things that weren’t people, he realized with a shock. It was sensory overload.

Violet led him through the crowd to a tent with a wooden table standing at its opening. Charleston could hear a monotonous thunking sound coming from within.

“Hey Bots!” Violet called into the tent. “You in there?”

“Coming,” a strange voice answered. It was quickly followed by an even stranger person.

No, Charleston realized once Bots fully emerged from the shadows of the tent, it was a robot. The torso looked human with arms and a head with all the usual human features, but instead of legs, it, or he, Charleston wasn’t sure, had a large orb that rolled along the ground like a wheel.

“Violet!” Bots said, his voice a mix between a human and something metallic sounding. “Long time, no see! Whatchya been up to?”

“Saving the world, as always,” Violet laughed. “This is Charleston,” she said, jerking a thumb at the boy. “He’s from New Washington. And he’s hungry. I thought I’d treat him to the best grub in town.”

If Bots was surprised someone from New Washington was in his city, he didn’t show it. “The usual?”

“Yeah, and a side of crisps.”

Bots disappeared back into the tent, and Charleston continued staring at the teeming life around him. Humans, robots, and things in between bustled about on business of their own or bartered noisily with vendors of all types.

Bots reappeared and handed Charleston a wrap full of fried meat and tomatoes, topped with a thick, creamy white sauce. He gave Violet the same, along with a container of dark, curly shapes.

“Thanks!” Violet replied, handing over something Charleston couldn’t see.

He took a big bite from the wrap and his mouth erupted with a combination of flavors he’d never tasted before. He closed his eyes.

“Like it?” she asked through a bite of her own.

“It’s amazing,” he said, reaching for the crispy curly things she held out to him. He popped one in his mouth and crunched down on it. It was salty and went well with the wrap. “I’ve never tasted anything like it,” he said happily, all thoughts vanishing in the moment of hunger satisfied.

“That’s the cave rat wrap with Bots’ signature sauce, and those are fried cockroach wings,” Violet replied mischievously.

He took another bite of the wrap and followed it with another of the cockroach wings. “It’s delicious!” He knew what rats and cockroaches were from his studies, but he had no personal experience with either and so found nothing odd or repulsive about eating them.

Violet’s face dropped.

“Where do you get tomatoes underground?” he asked through his third bite.

“Half of this cavern is full of hot houses with special lamps that let us grow fruits and vegetables.”

Charleston grunted in response. That would explain all the lights he’d seen from the cart.

Violet began walking again, eating as she went, and Charleston followed suit, 10-16 trailing behind. They walked long enough that Charleston finished the wrap and his share of the roaches.

“Water?” Violet asked when he was done eating, holding her flask out to him.

“Thanks,” he replied.

They continued walking, Charleston looking for any sign they were reaching the city center. He was expecting some sort of official looking government building like the ones in City Dome, and so was surprised when Violet stopped before a small stone structure identical to the ones they’d passed.

“This is it,” she said, then knocked loudly on the door.

A child no older than ten or eleven opened it. He had dark black hair and clear blue eyes. “Violet!” he greeted her.

“I brought you a visitor, Green,” Violet replied and Charleston started. This was Green? The would-be leader of the Underground? It was impossible. He was just a kid.

“I see that,” Green answered, giving Charleston a piercing look. “Hello 10-16,” he said, smiling at the man who stood behind them. “Come in.” He turned to lead them in, then paused. “Actually,” he began, “10-16, do you mind rounding up the others? I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Sure, no problem,” 10-16 happily replied.

For a moment, Charleston worried he was walking into a trap, but quickly dismissed the fear and followed Green and Violet into a well-lit, spacious sitting room with two doors opposite the entrance. Two of the walls were lined with shelves, mostly full of books, though there was the odd knickknack sporadically placed here and there. It reminded Charleston of Professor Duman’s classroom. In front of the shelves was a low table flanked by two armchairs. A couch completed the sitting area. There was a strange looking box, dark and square, sitting in one corner on a small stand. Its front side was glass, while the rest of it looked like wood.

“Is that a television?” he asked, remembering a museum exhibit Dr. Tyler had led them through not too long ago.

“You know what a TV is?” Violet responded sounding impressed.

“A what?”

She laughed. “Nevermind. Green, this is Charleston. Charleston, this is Green.”

Charleston stepped forward and reached out his hand, remembering what to do this time. Green shook it and let go.

“You’ll be civilized before you know it!” Violet joked encouragingly.

Green gave Violet an indiscernible look, then turned back to Charleston. “I imagine you must have a lot of questions,” he began. “Have a seat and I’ll put the pot on for tea.” Green was back in a moment and gestured for Charleston to take one of the chairs, while he sat in its twin. “Ask away!”

Charleston was silent, unsure what question he wanted to ask first. Who were they? What was the Underground? Where did it come from? How did they get here?

Green smiled encouragingly. “It’s a lot to process, I know,” he said kindly and Charleston was reminded of Violet and her tendency to sound much older than she looked.

“Are you really as old as Violet says?” he blurted out the most obvious of his questions.

“If not older,” Green replied.

“How is that possible? You’re just a kid!”

Green laughed a soft laugh. “That’s always the question people start with. No, it makes perfect sense,” he added reassuringly. “We look like children on the outside, though appearances can be deceiving.”

“But why haven’t you aged?”

“People since time began have sought to avoid death,” Green began. “It is our greatest foe. And, for almost as long, people have immortalized the idea of immortality. It’s the holy grail of humanity, if you will.”

Charleston eagerly listened, though he wasn’t really following. Holy what?

Green smiled. “I see I’ve already started waxing poetic, haven’t I?”

“Ya do be likin’ fine words,” Violet replied in one of her many accents.

“To answer your question as simply as possible,” Green continued, ignoring Violet’s remark with practiced disregard, “science evolved to the point where it conquered death. The Cure, as you know it, prevents natural death, while also greatly slowing the aging process.”

Charleston nodded. “But you haven’t aged at all. You still look ten, maybe eleven.”

Green smiled patiently. “Yes, you are correct. For us,” he signaled himself and Violet, “we stopped aging entirely from the moment the Cure was administered. We were eleven at the time. Hence our childlike appearance.”

“Why didn’t you age?”

Green paused and Charleston thought the boy looked uncomfortable. “What you’ve been told about the Cure and its origins is a lie. Stiles didn’t perfect the Cure. And he certainly didn’t die doing so. No, he wasn’t even a part of New Washington at that time.”

Charleston’s curiosity struggled against his need to protest this slander of the Founder.

“The Cure was developed and perfected on us,” Green continued, “on generations of children born in a lab, just like you. Our Purpose, if you will,” here a pained smile crossed Green’s face, “was to be the guinea pigs, the sacrificial lambs for the greater good of the collective.”

“Fine words, Green,” Violet chimed in when Charleston didn’t respond. “What he’s saying, Char, is the Council and Planners killed generations of children before they figured out how to stop the aging process.”

Green cleared his throat and Violet went silent. “We are a product of their trials and errors.”

Charleston felt anger flare up in his chest. “This is bullshit! Everyone knows Stiles died perfecting the Cure! He’s a martyr!”

Green exchanged a look with Violet, then said something to Charleston in a language he didn’t recognize.

“What?”

Green replied and again Charleston didn’t understand, though the language itself sounded quite different than the first.

“I don’t know whatever language it is you’re speaking,” he said in frustration.

That’s when Green launched into a monologue that lasted for what felt like minutes. And with each brief pause between sentences, he switched languages. Even to Charleston’s untrained ear he could hear the difference between them. It was unlike anything he’d ever witnessed.

“Show off,” Violet muttered once Green had finished.

“When you’ve lived for centuries,” Green said in English, “you find creative ways to pass the time. Feel free to brose my bookshelves while I go fetch the tea if you don’t believe me. I think you’ll find the range of topics quite extensive.”

Charleston hesitated, then went to read the titles at a nod and wink from Violet. Extensive was right. The books were organized by topic, with whole shelves on medicine, art, physics, history, geography, literature, and so much more. One entire bookshelf was dedicated to linguistics with more than a dozen different languages represented. And from the looks of the spines of each book, they had been read more than once. Savannah and New York would be in heaven in this place, he thought.

Green returned carrying a tray with tea and a plate of cookies. “Shall I present more proof?” he asked in a tone that said he was more than able to.

Charleston shook his head, though he still wasn’t convinced of everything Green was telling him. “So the Council and Planners gave a bunch of kids the Cure not knowing what it would do to them?”

“It’s the scientific process at work,” Green replied with a shrug, as if he were talking of the weather. “Discovery requires failure. It was only after several generations that they figured out the right formula.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Hence the reason you won’t find our names anywhere in the records,” Violet said.

Charleston did a double take. “But we did find you in the records!”

Violet smiled and touched the side of her nose.

Charleston blinked.

“We planted those, of course,” Violet said. “Figured it would ease you into the idea of us and our immense age. Green didn’t think it’d work, but I convinced him otherwise.”

“And the reason the perfection of the Cure is attributed to Stiles,” Green said after another sideways look at Violet. “What better way to cover their tracks than to attribute such a miraculous scientific achievement to the man who did so much.”

Charleston couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Planners and Council had had generations of children born to be lab rats? It didn’t seem possible.

“Why eleven?” he finally asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you stop aging at eleven?”

“To work the mines,” Green answered simply.

“What? That makes no sense,” Charleston argued. “Surely if there was the technology to build a place like New Washington, they didn’t need kids working the mines.”

“You’re right and wrong, unfortunately,” Green replied. “This all happened many, many years ago Charleston, in the first years of New Washington. The Time of Troubles had only just ended. And while the history books like to stamp clean beginnings and ends to things with concrete dates, the truth is much more fluid. Yes, the official end of the Time of Troubles is marked by the completion of the domes, but the effects of that horrible time were felt for decades, if not centuries. Civilization had nearly been destroyed and I mean that in both the figurative and literal sense.”

Violet muttered something about fine words again and Green shot her a look.

“What I mean,” he said in a harsher tone than Charleston had heard from the boy so far, “is people didn’t just become more barbaric and primitive as they fought for survival, but the infrastructure, the very products of civilization and technology – cars, planes, electricity – disappeared in the destruction wrought both by humans and nature.”

“How did New Washington get built, then? How were you all born in a lab if what you say is true?”

“Work on New Washington was begun well before total destruction of Earth and its people was complete. In the process, as many resources were gathered and protected as possible to ensure some portion of civilization would survive the extinction. A primacy was put on medical and military technology. Medicine to keep people inside the city alive and healthy and weapons to protect them. To make a long story short, mining equipment was not high on the list of essential technologies at the end of the Time of Troubles.”

“They had children mining rocks or something?” Charleston asked, confused. It didn’t sound very believable.

“In the beginning, yes,” Green said. “We weren’t the first children in history to work mines,” Green added at the look of disbelief on Charleston’s face. “Think about it, Charleston. Digging tunnels is no easy task and it’s time consuming, even with machinery. If your workforce is half the size of an adult, well, I don’t think I need to continue.”

“Uh,” Violet said, “you probably should spell it out for him. His friends are the smart ones.”

Charleston gave her a dirty look. “Then you can spend less time digging tunnels.”

“And more time mining the resources you need,” Green smiled. “Don’t let your journey here fool you,” he continued after a moment. “When these mines were still active, the tunnels were frequently no more than a few feet in diameter. We’ve had a lot of time to expand.”

“It sounds so, so…far-fetched,” Charleston said, shaking his head. “Technology had advanced to the point it discovered the cure for death, but it couldn’t make automated mining orbs or something like that?”

“The one does not necessarily facilitate the other,” Green replied. “Curing death, which was a task for medicine, does not mean our engineers and computer programmers had solved the issue of artificial intelligence.”

“Okay, so your job was to dig up coal and stuff,” Charleston said hesitantly, unsure what else people mined. “What happened?”

“We ran out of things to mine,” Green said simply. “Many of Earth’s natural resources are finite, even if it would seem otherwise. Centuries of excavation will reduce even a very large number to zero.”

“And you decided to stay down here and live out your immortality underground?” he asked in a disbelieving tone.

Violet snorted. “Where would you have us go? You think the Council would let their lab rats back into New Washington?” She barked a laugh.

“How do you think the people would react if they learned entire generations had been killed in the name of science?” Green picked up. “Entire generations born and bred to work the mines, frozen in time, eleven year olds forever?”

“You’re saying no one knows you even exist?”

“How often did you get visitors growing up in Podkind Dome?” Green countered.

Charleston blinked.

“And, other than your annual trip to City Dome, how often were you allowed to interact with the general population there?”

Charleston thought back on his childhood. They’d taken a couple of field trips to Farm Branch and once to Lake Branch, but that was it, other than Founder’s Week.

“How easy would it have been for the Planners to have simply kept you in Podkind Branch forever? How would anyone know you were there if they did?”

“What about our parents? Our professors?” Charleston argued, though he wasn’t sure why anymore. Why would Green and Violet lie about something like this? “Someone had to have known about you,” he continued. “Someone had to have raised you.”

“Oh, certainly,” Green answered, “but they were carefully selected by the Planners, much like your parents. They thought they were doing what was best for New Washington. It was their Purpose.”

“But why not let you grow up normally? Why not let you work the mines until you got too big, then let the next generation of kids take over? That’s the least they should have done.”

Green raised his eyebrows at Charleston. “I think you give the Planners too much credit. We were just a resource, much like the ore and minerals we were mining. They created us; they could use us how they saw fit. Anything for the greater good of New Washington.” He paused. “But you’re also forgetting that our Purpose,” he put a sarcastic emphasis on the word, “was twofold. First, we were their test subjects on whom they perfected the Cure. Working the mines was a convenient use for us once they’d figured out how to stop the aging process, but that’s not all they wanted from the Cure.”

“What do you mean?”

“They wanted to alter people’s genetic make-up in a way that would not just make them nearly immortal, but would make them better, make them exceptional.”

Charleston didn’t think he could be more surprised than he already was, but he’d been wrong.

“Do you think it’s an accident you and your podmate, what’s her name, Arkhangelsk, are so fast? Or that New York is so large at such a young age? Or that Savannah is so incredibly smart?” Green smiled another of his kind smiles. “Don’t get me wrong, this technology isn’t all bad. Who wouldn’t want to live for centuries as a genius?”

“Unless it means being eleven the whole time,” Violet said, all traces of humor absent from her voice.

It was the first time Charleston had heard her sound so serious…and sad. It also reminded him of something he’d been meaning to ask. “I still don’t understand why you stopped aging entirely.”

“The first goal was to cure aging,” Green explained patiently, “which they achieved with us and those who came after us. Who wants to live forever if your body continues to grow old? However, they soon realized people need to feel like they are changing, progressing, evolving, if you will. It’s human nature. If you never change, it’s easy to think you’re stagnating.” Green shrugged. “Not to mention the limited space here in New Washington. If people never die, no children can be born.”

Green’s mention of other children reminded Charleston of his final argument, the one he’d been saving in the hopes all he was hearing was a lie. How could the Planners and Council do such a thing to kids? “You said there were others. Where are they? I didn’t see any children on the way here. If what you’re saying is true, shouldn’t this place be full of eleven year olds?”

Just then, as if on cue, the door opened and 10-16 walked in followed by a group of children. There were two girls and two boys, all more or less the same age as Violet.

“Speaking of the others,” Green said, “let me introduce you. This is Rose,” he said, indicating the first girl. She was small and thin, with bright red hair and large green eyes. She was wearing a green shirt and loose, billowy blue pants. She was barefoot, Charleston noticed. She gave him a mischievous grin and winked.

“This is Chrome,” Green said next, indicating the larger of the two boys. He looked older, at least thirteen. He was the only one of the group to be dressed in muted colors, black pants and a light almost white shirt that left his muscled arms bare. He stared at Charleston as if he were looking at a rather boring object.

“Next,” Green continued, pointing to the second boy, “we have Magenta.” He was an average-sized, average-looking boy, a mop of brown hair falling haphazardly around his ears and neck and in his eyes. He was also dressed in bright, clashing colors, his pants a shade of red Charleston didn’t recognize and his shirt a neon blue. He smiled at Charleston, revealing several gaps in his teeth.

“And finally, this is Aqua,” Green said, nodding at the last girl. Aqua also looked older to Charleston, with dark black hair reaching well past her shoulders and light blue eyes that were set off by her dark skin. She was wearing a flowery dress full of pinks, yellows, and reds, with a bright purple sash around her waist and another in her hair. “How do you do?” she said, her voice odd sounding to Charleston, like a blend of several of Violet’s favorite accents.

“I couldn’t find Black,” 10-16 said once Green had finished the introductions.

A worried look flashed across the boy’s face. “She’s probably off researching some obscure topic,” he said, recovering quickly. He looked at Charleston. “We’re all that’s left of the generations the Planners bred to work the mines.”

“What? What happened?”

“Black and I were among the first children the Cure was successfully used on,” Green continued, seemingly ignoring Charleston’s questions, “even though it didn’t work perfectly for many of us. Some aged, albeit slowly, and eventually died. Others got sick soon after they received the Cure. But the Planners learned from these mistakes. By Violet and Rose’s generation, almost no one got sick or aged. With Aqua and Magenta, they’d perfected it to the point that all survived. By Chrome’s generation, they were able to tweak the Cure so that it improved on our natural abilities. Chrome got stronger and bigger after the treatment. This was their first attempt at genetic manipulation beyond aging.”

“I still don’t understand what happened to the rest of you? Surely more than six kids were born to work the mines.”

“Like I said,” Green replied, “some got sick and died. Others died in accidents while working. Mines are dangerous places. There’re cave-ins and poisonous gases, not to mention the toll the work takes on you physically. But only a relative few of us died from those things. For most, it was the double whammy of living forever and being stuck in time as eleven-year-olds.”

“Double what?” Charleston asked.

Green smiled. “It’s just an old expression. Living forever is surprisingly hard, believe it or not. You get bored and tired, to say the least. Living forever as a child is even more difficult. You age and mature mentally, but your body never catches up. There are many things we’ll never get to truly experience because we’ll never inhabit adult bodies.”

Charleston thought back to Violet’s overly flirtatious and suggestive behavior and he blushed. “Why should I believe you?” he asked suddenly, his mind balking at the sudden disconnect he felt between the image of New Washington he’d grown up with and the one Green’s words were painting for him now. The Planners and Council were monsters, if what he was saying was true. “You could easily just be a bunch of kids from the Underground playing some elaborate game out of boredom. Or for some other reason I can only imagine.”

Green stared at Charleston. In that look, Charleston saw something old, something ancient. “You will either choose to believe me or you won’t,” the boy replied sagely. “It’s of little importance to me what you decide, though it would be better if you trusted us. Whether you do or not won’t change what’s happening, what inevitably will happen, and your role in it all.”

“You’re talking about the attacks on the war patrols,” Charleston said. “And Charles.” The man had told them to seek the truth about New Washington. Was this it?

Green nodded. “And then some, unfortunately.”

Charleston felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “But Violet said you had nothing to do with the attacks?” From what he’d just learned, he was finding this harder and harder to believe.

“We didn’t,” Green replied simply. “But we know who’s behind them. However, I believe more refreshments are in order,” Green said before Charleston could press him. “This is a lot for you to process, I know, and it’s getting late. You’re probably tired. Relax there a few minutes, and I’ll bring some food over.” The boy stood and went to the kitchen, 10-16 joining him. Rather than get the food ready, though, they began a low conversation, heads bowed close to one another.

Charleston started to call out to them, but a wave of fatigue washed over him. He really was tired. He stretched back and closed his eyes.

“Well, laddie,” Violet said, sitting in Green’s now empty chair, “how do ya be feelin’?”

“Fine,” Charleston replied. His mind raced as he tried to sort through all the new information bombarding him. In the span of one day, he felt like his entire understanding of New Washington, the Planners, the Council, everything, had been turned on its head. What had Green said about the Planners? They viewed them as a resource to be used? He couldn’t help but see the parallels between him and his podmates and Green and the others. Sure, he was living in one of the domes and not the mines, but he’d spent his entire life following a meticulous plan set out by adults he’d only just met.

“Are you sure?” Violet asked, her voice back to normal. “Because you don’t look fine.”

“Have you been lying to me this entire time?” he asked suddenly.

“What?!” Violet said. She sounded genuinely shocked. “Of course not! Why do you think I brought you here?”

Charleston met her eyes and held them. She seemed sincere. “Well, maybe lying isn’t the best way to describe it. But you’ve been manipulating me,” he stated, rather than asked.

“Only in the strictest definition of the word,” Violet replied quickly, “and with no ill intent.”

Charleston just looked at her, unconvinced and feeling foolish.

“Look, would you really have believed me if I’d come right out and told you all this in the forest that first day we spoke?” she asked disbelievingly. “You still haven’t said if you believe Green yet, and that’s after all the evidence you’ve now seen with your own eyes.”

“But why send us searching for answers when you knew them all along?!”

“What I told you and your friends that day was true,” she said, her tone serious. “It wasn’t just me being mysterious for fun. Some things you really do have to find out for yourself.” She paused again before continuing, reading the impact of her words. “Until recently, you’ve never really known anything but Podkind Dome. You trusted everyone around you and were happy, without even the slightest suspicion that all was not what it seemed on the surface. I needed to plant the seeds of doubt in you first so that you’d think to question your surroundings, to look at them with a more critical eye. I couldn’t just tell you New Washington had a rotten core; you’d never have believed me.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Charleston replied.

“Perhaps,” Violet conceded, though she didn’t look as if she agreed. “Trust me,” she continued, “I’ve been in your shoes before. I was once a child brought up and taught to fulfill my Purpose for the greater good of New Washington, too. It was the only life I knew and it took me a long time to begin questioning it, even longer to accept we were the victims of a great injustice. When all you know is children like you performing the same task and you’re told this is good and right and all there is to life, then what’s there to question? We weren’t even taught to question!”

Something about what Violet was saying clicked in Charleston, and he thought back to Slive and many of the other adults in Podkind Dome who discouraged them from delving deeper into certain topics. “But you’re still not telling me everything you know,” he said. “You’re still manipulating me.”

“What am I not telling you?” she asked quickly. “Tell me what you want to know and I’ll answer, I promise.”

Charleston looked over to where Green was now getting some food ready on a tray and talking with the other children. 10-16 had again disappeared somewhere. “What is this place?” he asked.

“What place? This? It’s Green’s house.”

Charleston growled in frustration. “No games!” he said. “What’s the Underground?”

Violet struggled not to smile. “It’s only a game because it’s fun for me, but it’s also a lesson in and of itself, Charleston. Be specific in your questions or there’s too much room for lies, half-truths, and truths that don’t give you what you’re searching for.”

Charleston rolled his eyes. Violet sounded a lot like Savannah sometimes. “Tell me about the Underground,” he said. “How did it start? Who are all the people and, and non-people who live here? Where did they come from? Why are they here?”

Violet did smile now. “That’s better, youngling,” she encouraged. “Like I told you earlier, it’s a city of rejects and forgotten ones.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means those first attempts at artificial intelligence, that weren’t utter failures at least, were abandoned here. And as technology progressed, many of the obsolete models found there way here, as well.”

“But why?”

“Why what?”

Charleston bit back another frustrated growl. “Why let these obsolete models, as you put it, move here? Why not destroy them? Or break them down for parts?”

Violet shrugged. “They did with some of them. But we’re talking about artificial intelligence, creatures who can think on their own. At a certain point, these older models discerned their likely end once newer models were developed. So they fled, escaped New Washington and found their way here.”

“But there are people here, too, right? Not only robots?”

“Yes, there are plenty of actual humans down here, too.”

“Where did they come from?”

“Most came from New Washington,” she replied. “Many of them came as so-called Apathetics.”

“Who?”

“Like Green said, living for hundreds of years can be surprisingly hard. Apathetics are ones who get tired of life. They lose all desire to do anything but die. Most wander off somewhere to do just that. Some of those find their way here and when they discover a whole new community unlike New Washington, it gives them back their desire to live. So they stay. Many start over, new families, new jobs, new everything. Many bring the latest technology with them, or, at least, knowledge of it. And so we’ve been able to advance our society here, both in numbers and quality of life.”

“You said most, though,” Charleston replied. “Where did the others come from?”

“Do you remember that study session you were having in the forest with your friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, like you all said then, not everyone moved into the domes during the Time of Troubles. Some went underground. Some went north. Some, no one knows what they did. But some eventually ended up here.”

“But you told us what we’d been taught was some extravagant lie! Why? What really happened?”

Violet shrugged. “Not all of it was a lie, and I don’t know what really happened. I’m not sure anyone does who didn’t live through it. I reacted that way because I don’t believe the Planners can tell the truth about anything. And I’m old enough to know that history, any history, is equal parts fiction and fact. At the very least, it’s written from the one-sided perspective of the victors. Of course, the Planners would want to paint Stiles and New Washington in as positive a light as possible.”

“How did we survive that fall?” he asked. “We should have died.”

Violet’s face changed to something like disappointment and disbelief. “Oh, come now!” she cried. “Don’t rob me of all my secrets!”

“You promised you’d answer my questions!”

Violet sighed, but before she could continue, Green walked over with a tray of food. There were thick slices of dark bread, a bowl of some sort of spread, and a few vegetables. Chrome followed with more tea. The other three children were nowhere to be seen.

“My chair, please,” he said to Violet, who stood up all too willingly.

“I guess it’ll have to wait, Char!” she half sighed, half taunted, then sat on the couch with Chrome. They both grabbed a slice of bread and began dipping it in the bowl of thick sauce. Charleston followed suit, shooting Violet one final glare.

“Where did we leave off?” Green asked, sipping his tea.

“The attacks,” Charleston replied, “and how you’re connected to them. No offense, but if I had to put the blame on anyone, it would be on you. You have a lot of reasons to want revenge against New Washington.” Charleston may not be as smart as Savannah and New York, but he wasn’t as stupid as Violet liked to tease. And just because these kids were treating him kindly didn’t mean they weren’t the enemy. There was more than one way to attack, as Professor Thurmond had taught them.

Green smiled his patient smile. “Our anger towards New Washington died out with the Planners and Council who doomed us to this fate.”

“They died? Did you kill them?” Charleston asked, shock distorting his features.

“Almost two thousand years have passed since we were born,” Green answered. “We are the only ones that I know of who are still alive from that time.”

Charleston reluctantly nodded. It sounded so unbelievable. “Who’s attacking New Washington, then?” he prompted when Green didn’t continue.

“Ah, yes,” Green replied, as if coming back from that far away time. “Many years ago, more than a century at this point, I’d say, a man came to us from New Washington. Are you familiar with the Apathetics?”

“Yes,” Charleston replied, glancing at Violet, who winked.

“He was one of these. His name was Fred. He had been very important, very powerful in New Washington, the chief programmer, he told us. It was he who had finally figured out the science of artificial intelligence. It was he who designed the flying orbs that monitor everything. But, we only learned this later. At the time he came to us, he was despondent, depressed, tired of living. Who knows how long he’d been alive? He’d left New Washington thinking he’d either find something new and interesting, something worth living for, or he’d find a place to die. He found us and decided to continue living, as many of these Apathetics do. Well, it didn’t take long for him to realize that we,” Green signaled to himself, Violet, and Chrome, “weren’t aging at all. This naturally led to questions and we told him our story.”

Green paused to take another sip of tea. Charleston had already finished his cup, along with a slice of bread generously slathered in the dipping sauce.

“When Fred learned what had been done to us,” Green continued, “and to the many others New Washington had made and abandoned, he found his true reason to live. He’d had some sort of falling out with the authorities when he was working as the chief programmer, and so his was fertile soil for rebellion. He now wanted justice and revenge. He wanted New Washington and the Planners to be held accountable for what they did and what they were still doing, both to us, to him, and to others. He began searching for any evidence, any proof of what they did to us that he could take before the people. I don’t think he found anything because it wasn’t long before he started trying to rally us in the Underground to his cause. He wanted to stage a coup with us as his army.”

“But you didn’t join him,” Charleston stated what seemed obvious now. “Why not?”

“Like I said, we’ve had a long time to get over the injustices done to us,” Green replied. “And we really aren’t the sort to fight battles or take down empires despite some of us being quite good at it.”

“At your service, me lord,” Violet said with a half bow from her place on the couch.

“We’re a hodgepodge group of children, former Apathetics, and robots, more or less,” Green continued, not acknowledging Violet. “We live peacefully and, for the most part, happily here. This infuriated Fred, whose own victimization was far fresher than our own, and he spent a long time trying to persuade us otherwise. Unfortunately, he was successful with some. But not with enough, and so he began sowing the seeds of discontent in New Washington itself, for at this point he was making regular trips back there unbeknownst to the authorities. He began organizing groups of dissenters, but he still needed a true army, one that could train and prepare away from the eyes of Ale and the Council. And so he disappeared one day, gone to find his army.”

“Where did he go?”

“We’re not sure exactly where,” Green replied, “but north, at least. There are people there, mostly descendants of the religious fanatics who rejected the domes back during the Time of Troubles.”

Charleston nodded.

“He went to them and presented himself as some kind of prophet. He claimed to have fallen from New Washington and been miraculously saved by god, though he was blinded in the process.”

“Wait a second,” Charleston interrupted excitedly, “that sounds just like Charles!”

Green nodded. “Yes, Charles was one of Fred’s converts in New Washington.”

“But why kill himself?”

“To sow discord, perhaps,” Green answered. “Fred’s endgame is nearing. I can only guess that that mass suicide you witnessed was also a sign to others like him.”

“To kill themselves?” Charleston asked in disbelief. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

Green shrugged. “Anyway,” he continued after a moment, “Fred went north to build his army. It took awhile, but when the fanatics there saw that he didn’t age, they decided he was a true prophet of their god. He’s looked at now almost as a god himself. These people will do anything he tells them to, and they hate New Washington.”

“Why? Because we live in domes while they’re outside?”

“Yes and no,” Green replied. “They hate us because they believe it’s the kind of technology we possess that led to old Earth’s destruction and the apocalypse, as they see it, the mass extinction, as we do. They believe god wants to punish us.” Green paused. “But it’s not just these religious fanatics who think this. Many of the people he’s recruited here agree it’s our fault we live in domes. We’re responsible for killing Earth and we deserve to be punished. Some have even adopted his rhetoric, including the bit about him being a prophet of god, and have been preaching it under the noses of the Council, Ale, and the Dome Guard, seeking more and more people to join their cause.”

“To overthrow New Washington?”

“Precisely. To dethrone the Planners and the Council and to return New Washington to its natural state.”

“Stop the Cure and let people age and die normally?”

“That’s right.”

“Where is he now?” Charleston asked.

“Nearby,” Green replied vaguely, “though we don’t know where. Somewhere in the tunnels and mines most likely. It is he and his people who have been attacking the patrols and stealing war suits. They know they can’t overthrow New Washington without some technology to aid them.”

“But how are they doing it? I heard they were shutting off the war suits somehow.”

“I’m not sure,” Green replied, “but Fred, Jedidiah as he calls himself now, was the chief programmer, as I said. I imagine he knows more about New Washington’s technology than just about anyone.”

Charleston shook his head. There was so much to think about and he needed time to do it.

“You look tired,” Green said kindly. “I think it’s time Violet took you back.”

“Why me?” Charleston finally gave voice to the question that had been nagging him the whole time. “What does this have to do with me? With my pod-, my shipmates?” he corrected. “Why send Violet to find me and lead me here? You must want something.”

Green smiled kindly and, it seemed, somewhat sadly. “You and your friends are in danger, Charleston. You don’t know it because you’ve been kept so isolated your entire lives, focused on your training. But those ships you just moved in to represent salvation and freedom.”

“I know,” Charleston replied quickly. “We’re the saviors of New Washington.” It felt surreal saying it for the first time.

Green shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. There are others outside of New Washington, as well as within it, that want those ships for themselves. This planet is dead. It has no future, even if we all live another thousand years. Everyone wants to get off of it. Everyone wants a new home, a home like old Earth.”

“But that’s what we’re doing,” Charleston replied, confused. “We’re scouting out new homes. Once we find one, the rest of New Washington will join us.”

Green smiled another sad smile. “Not everyone is willing to wait for you to scout out this new home and report back. And not everyone believes all of New Washington will join you once you do. In fact, many think this scouting mission of yours is just a ruse, that the Planners, the Council, and the city’s elite plan on leaving with you. Your Purpose is to save them, not New Washington.”

“What?!” Charleston asked in stunned disbelief.

“That’s right,” Green replied. “Many think the Planners and the Council of Nine have no intention of taking all of New Washington to whatever home you and the Podkind find.”

“But why would they think that?” Charleston asked.

Green smirked. “They’ve done it before,” he said, signaling to himself and Violet.

Charleston’s head was spinning. If Green was who he said he was, then it was hard to deny the Planners had abandoned him and the other children in the empty mines they’d been born to work. But assuming Green was telling the truth, it was still quite a leap to say the Council was planning to leave most of New Washington behind and come with the Podkind. Of course, he realized, if New Washington’s leaders really did intend to flee, they wouldn’t advertise it ahead of time. He shook his head, trying to think clearly. “I don’t believe it,” he finally managed.

Green nodded his head, as if he’d been expecting nothing else. “And why would you take the word of a perfect stranger over what you’ve been told by the people who raised you, educated you, made you who you are today? We, too, were in your place once,” he continued after a brief pause. “We learned the hard way not to trust the Planners and Council. Look to us as an example and avoid making the same mistake.”

“You said my friends and I were in danger. Why?”

Green looked blankly at Charleston.

“I told you I should have waited for the smart one,” Violet muttered at Green.

“Because people will do anything to get those ships and save themselves,” Green explained. “Best case scenario, they keep you alive to crew the ship. Worst case scenario, they kill you and take your ship for themselves.”

“Who, though? Fred and his people? Why would they want ships if they want to return to a more natural life?”

“What’s more natural than living on a planet untouched by technology?” Green asked. “But don’t let people and their politics or religion fool you. They may say they hate technology, but they use it every day to live. No, Charleston, everyone wants to leave this shell of a planet, and many are willing to do whatever it takes to do it.”

“So what do you want?” Charleston asked.

“The same thing everyone else does,” Green replied.

The hair on the back of Charleston’s neck suddenly stood up. He tensed, ready to spring for the door.

“Relax, Char,” Violet said. “We aren’t here to kill you.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Charleston,” Green continued, “we don’t want to kill you. We want you to take us with you.”

 

The Podkind is a science fiction/fantasy novel written by Johnny Cycles. The next installment is scheduled for September 27th!