The next day, the high priest takes me to the Neandelerian camp. It was next to the pure white high rises that composed Cathary company's land lease agreement. Each building had deep blue windows that added needed depth to the many bland structures. I see a few billboards that were hanging from neglect.

“Edible happiness?”

There was a man and a woman on one, feeding each together. They had guns printed on their skimpy clothes and they were smiling. It was an advertisement for bullets. They were now sold with custom prints and decorations to make the bullets pretty.

“Insanity. What a joke.”

I try to read more billboards to take my thoughts out of my head. They stood out against the dustiness of the land, once a symbol of Neandelerian strength in Capara. Now, the companies were in competition with the growing population of Caparans right next door. They made their own jet-packs and Nethelicose was becoming a piece of history. I could tell by the attitude of those passing buy. It wasn't the same as in Cepertine.

The high priest veers away from the Nethelicose area and takes me to where the refugees gathered. He wanted to try and barter me for some things. I didn't know what he was up to, but we were walking around the shops and traders of the refugees. The companies of Neandeleria had a deal with the Caparans in case something like this ever happened. Nethelicose company's outdated outpost looked like a blast from the past. It did more than make jet-packs, though. It helped us keep an eye on our investment.

The high priest guarded a collection of weapons pulled from The Far Away Dream. It was well out of the reach of the evil pilot at ground zero and gave us a chance to fight back. In an emergency, we would come and claim what was ours. Thankfully, the pilot attacked the Ryoken tribes first. None of us thought that would happen. Not.

“This is my chance to escape.”

I'm pulled through the valley with several palace guards. I was still in my cage looking around. Neandelerians were walking the street. I try to grab the passing legs and people, who look at me with frustration. They were powerless to do much. I could tell they wanted to help their own.

“Why won't you help me. I'm just like you!”

The cart rolls to a slow. The high priest stops and I hear a brief conversation. Several armed Neandelerians with heavy machine guns and armor were around him. There visors scan everywhere and I could hear their bullets jingle. The radios fuss as they play with grenades and bite their pull strings with boredom. Some had rockets in the metallic backpacks and the blinking lights were everywhere. They were iron heavy and halo-ed, ready to die if things went sour. A translator was nearby, allowing me to understand the argument. The Neandelerians speak first.

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“We had a deal, remember?”

“Neandeleria is dead. I will get your weapons as soon as I can,” answers the high priest.

Several battle-axes are handed over to the warriors. They weren't like the normal metal ones. The axes glowed with strangle lights as if their green and purple veins gave them life. The Neandelerians check out their supernatural axes, before dropping them in the street and smiling. The high priest motions to his guards, as several of Luer's flying killers land to give him added security. The numbers seem to grow around me and I frantically look around. Others stop outside my cage, to see what was going on. The Neandelerians speak again.

“The pilot is headed here next. We don't have time to wait for it all.”

“I will get you your weapons. I've been busy. Wait until we have a king. I would hate for you to fight alone,” says the high priest with a smile.

The high priest and the others talk for a while. I zone out and try to spot someone to help. Everyone seemed to look away from me, as I shouted at them. I shake my cage the best I can, but I end up moving down the road. A familiar sense of home fills my nose as I smell the street food. Brief holograms pass me outside a few shops, flickering from neglect. There were tents and dune buggies scattered among the makeshift homes. People had all their stuff with them. The companies didn't build enough for the expected numbers. They were greedy and only built enough for themselves in case of emergency. I could see their vacation homes in the distance that took up all the space. We didn't prepare for this well.

Further down the street I see several pastel advertisements. They covered all the junk people had brought with them to survive. There were fake palm trees and dying jungle plants around the booths. Children were running in the street, without the same concerns their beckoning parents shouted at them with. The whole place was a mess.

The priest stops as several loud vehicles roar past him with no concern. I hear him say something to his palace guards, stopping to look back. More dune buggies pass with middle fingers and shooting guns. The noise seemed to startle the high priest, who yells at his Caparan bugs.

My cage rolls onward, until we reach a gun shop. An old bell rings and the owner smiles at me. He had several others protecting his goods. They were armed to the teeth. I see the high priest's reflection in the glass and try to grab his robes to tear and stretch them. He kicks my fingers hard and I curse. He resumes his business, presenting me with welcoming hands. I listen as the high priest tries to exchange me for some of the heavy weaponry. Each time he speaks my heart raises with hope, only to be left disappointed as the owner refuses to do business.

The two argue and I eventually settle in my cage. I watch people pass outside the glass door with their sunglasses and sexy attire. Everyone was trying to keep their hopes up. I was the same. I didn't know what happened to Nahlia, but if it was worse than me, someone was going to pay for it. My hope leaves me as we leave the shop. The hum of the cooling fans disappear and we had back into the street. My thoughts drift as I try to keep calm.

“Nah. I'm better off without, Nahlia.”

I felt like a sucker. I was coping with everything and for some reason I cared about her. I didn't know if my best friend would be ok. Hopefully Ned was still alive and being sold as a slave. I would shoot him if I ever saw him again. Nahlia, wouldn't want me to, but what did I have to lose? Even if I had a gun, I wouldn't do it. It reminded me too much of the ropes at the sky platform. I had fun and I remember Nahlia pulling my gun down. I couldn't tarnish the few memories I had, even though she did it to me. I was split and becoming a little jaded.