A harsh wind blew across the platform of the docks. A heap of scurries sped sideways in random directions, their bulbous claws snapping.  The pile they had made quickly dispersed. Seth watched their flat eyes, peering straight up into the sky, wondering how they could know where they were going. Their rock-shell hides were thick and rough as stone, and two little holes were pushed in where the scurry’s eyes resided. They had no such thing as peripheral vision, with a literal tunnel around their eyes. Seth had always been baffled that such an awkward animal could be such a pest. The things were everywhere, climbing on buildings, walking over people’s toes. 

It was cold that day. The ocean was grey, and it shuddered and rolled uncomfortably like a cramped beast. Seth looked up to see the sun beginning its descent. The clouds had moved to cushion its fall, and a bleak, white light illuminated the city. 

Seth stood on the edge of the platform, his hands deeply nested in his pockets. In them, he rubbed a maid and sailor together. The zinc and copper coins, having the same monetary value, clinked gently in his hand. His heart pounded a little as he stared out at the ocean, his mouth set and still, trying to calm his thoughts. The excitement he had been feeling earlier that day had deceptively morphed into anxiety. This might be it, his chance to finally see the Filters, to see progress in its unstoppable glory. But, it occurred to him, this might be his only chance. If he screwed this up, it might be years before he would ever see his wish fulfilled. If at all. Whatever job he obtained first in these next few weeks would be the one to sustain him, ideally, for his whole life. If not that, then at least a good many years. 

But, Seth didn’t want just any job. He wanted this one. He looked out at the roiling sea, his fingers scraping the coins together in discreet agony, imagining what it was like down there. He closed his eyes, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t picture the behemoth size of the “tubes”. What machinery could possibly have enough size and power to clean the water for a whole country, even a small one like Scandium? 

It had been fifteen minutes or so. Seth began to pace. To his right, he could see the shoreline of houses where the concrete platform dropped off, and a stretch of beach began. The houses were raised up on an intricate wood scaffolding where the water would climb up during high-tide. There was also a long, dense wall of metal webbing to prohibit the entrance of animals at night during the Reverence, when they would wander up onto the shore. The rest of the city hadn’t bothered with that. Animals swept through the streets each night, regardless of anyone’s feelings about it. But that small village sectioned off in the north-west region of the city was made up primarily of fishermen. They set up the webbing, because many of them claimed that the sea-creatures ate their fish during the walk. When the barrier had been put up, some people complained, saying it was an intervention in God’s plan, that animals were meant to walk where they pleased during the Reverence. But, there hadn’t been enough protest for the government to step in. 

Seth used to have no opinion on the matter, but recently he was a bit more conflicted.It seemed reasonable that the fishermen would want to protect their fish, especially at night when you can’t directly “intervene” as many of the protesters said. Seth had no problem with it, even though he had never known any sea-creatures to eat their own kind. But then, the thought of tapering oneself off from the sea. It made Seth a bit wary, to think of rejecting parts of nature, which many priests said time and again claimed ownership over humanity.

Eventually, he turned from the village, where a chorus of boats were slowly bobbing out onto the water, draping nets over the sea.

To his left were the docks. Seth stood on the outer corner of a concrete platform that stretched for a half-mile along the shore. A series of large, square buildings had been built side by side facing the ocean. Unlike most buildings in the city Men milled about in uniform, some in protective wicker-suits to shield against the sea’s toxins, others in plain overalls. They all wore hats to shield their eyes from the sun, a habit some older men took on to prevent shaming themselves, by staring at God’s eye. Most just did it to stop their faces burning. 

Stretching out from the platform were a series of wooden docks, wide and sturdy, one for each Hut. Men who walked on those made sure to wear protective gear, including marine helmets. They held scopes in hand, and carried ropes and crates to and fro. Many of the jobs in this place were simply equipment care and management. The tubes,  the suction machines, the filters themselves required an endless amount of maintenance. If Seth were lucky, he wouldn’t be banished from the docks to deep beneath the city itself. Down there, he would be one of a thousand workers, spending each day in constant devotion to running and maintaining the Filters.

Some years ago, a huge project had taken place. The beach had been “removed” and the docks reinforced with an intricate structure of machinery that stretched beneath the city. It hadn’t been a city project, or government ordinated. A man by the name of Thomas Wilder, a businessman deeply entrenched in some cutthroat research a flew clicks from the city, was struck with an idea. He had this idea quietly approved, and then began work. 

Construction had been years in the making. Seth wasn’t familiar with all the details, as the project had been very hushed at first, but apparently Scandium, particularly this city, was ideal for the ambitious digging. Bedrock that had been growing for hundreds of years in this part of the country was further reinforced by the steady toxic storms which had been sweeping against the coast even longer. Even more important, the well-system that had been built and previously supplied the city with water had offered a good starting point from which to dig deeper, more intricate tunnels in key places beneath the city.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

The “filters” were, to Seth, foreboding and fascinating at the same time. As he walked along the street each day, he couldn’t help but picture what was going on a hundred feet beneath him. Men wearing headlamps, traversing tunnels on metal scaffolding above enormous machines that chugged water like parched animals. 

If he went down there, Seth would likely spend the rest of his life mostly underground. Cramped. In near-darkness. The thought made him shudder. No. He was here for one reason, and one reason only. Answers.

“I was told a shifty-looking kid was loitering my docks, as if he wanted something,” A voice said harshly, and Seth turned to see a man trudging toward him, kicking aside a scurry as it tried to crawl up his leg. It fell on its back, shuddered, then clicked its mandibles a few times and rocked back onto its feet. It returned to the squirming pile of its brethren that was reforming. The things loved to climb on top of each other. God knows why.

“But you,” the man continued, coming to a stop in front of Seth, and looking him up and down, “You look more than harmless to me. Practically non-threatening. Though, you did force me to walk all the way over here when I have more important, less annoying things to do.” He crossed his arms. The man was not much taller than Seth, but his arms were well-muscled, his gaze steely. His skin was withered like most sailors, and pockmarked with white scars from the ocean’s spray during toxic storms. He wore a hat, but it was tilted so far up, Seth couldn’t see any purpose to it, faithful or practical.

Seth flushed, and his mouth went dry. In his pocket, the hand that had been fiddling with the maid and sailor, moved down and crushed a paper in his fist. He pictured the words he saw on it weeks earlier. “Men Needed”.  Suddenly, Seth felt very foolish.

“I, umm...I’m here...”

The man waited, then raised an eyebrow.

“Obviously.”

Seth felt his face grow hotter. Then, he took a deep breath, and steadied his nerves. This was important. He could do this.

“I’m here for a job.”

The man’s other eyebrow joined the first in surprise.

“Oh?” he asked, looking Seth up and down again. Seth found the act was starting to irritate him.

“Yes.”

“You’re...”

“Thirteen. Yes.”

“Oh.” The man looked genuinely startled, his gruff expression momentarily cracked. Seth swallowed, his chest feeling very tight. He knew he looked young. He was short for his age, and had inherited the large, childish eyes of his mother, a common trait of her race. At least, that’s what Dominic told him.

Seth’s brain stopped for a moment. If Dominic knew he was here...

Seth shook his head. He didn’t need to think about that right now. He emptied out any thoughts of his brother, and held very still, as though that would stave off any further opinions being formed by the man in front of him.

The man seemed to come to himself, and suddenly chuckled. He held out a hand.

“My name’s Alford.”

Seth took his hand. It was rough as rockhide.

“Seth. Cross.” Seth’s chest sparked with a bit of excitement, and he found himself blurting out, “I’ve wanted to work here for a very long time.”

Alford nodded. His face was sober.

“Okay, kid, that’s fine. But when we said men, we meant ‘men’. First off, I need arms that can lift things,” he said, “No offense, but most of our equipment weighs more than you. Second, that ad was placed a month ago, I don’t need anyone else on the docks.”

Seth’s heart fell like a stone tossed into a still pool. He shook his head.

“No.” he insisted, “I don’t want to start somewhere else. I can...” Seth trailed off. He found himself staring at Alford’s face, unable to voice any more protests. The man’s expression was merciless. 

Dominic would be relieved. 

“I’m sorry, kid,” Alford said, and turned to walk away.

Seth watched him walk away with a growing pit of realization in his stomach. This was taking the exact turn he had hoped it wouldn’t. 

For a moment, he debated wildly with himself. Was it worth it? Coming here? If he really couldn’t start on the docks, that meant his only other option was...

Seth looked over at the water, at the dark waves rolling over the seabed. It was deep in there. Unfathomably deep. Some people said the ocean was deeper than a country was wide. Seth had always had trouble believing it. Nothing could be that huge. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn with unknowing.

But, it was his choice to come here. He wanted this. Whatever it took.

Time for plan B.

“I can dive.”

Alford stopped in his tracks. A wind blew through his clothes, and grey hairs beneath his hat ruffled. Seth’s skin crawled with gooseflesh.

Alford turned around, his eyes dark.

“You sure about that?”