Life was a fleeting thing for the millions of people who called Nox home. For the hardy citizens flowing like blood through the city’s concrete veins, there was one undeniable fact of life within the sunless land. Magna Spelunca, in all its terrible, wondrous glory, did not nurture humanity. The great cavern merely tolerated the human invasion.
The subterranean kingdom offered no true sunshine to warm the citizens and nourish the land. Only through human ingenuity had the five Helios towers been lit to offer those lost in the dark a pale imitation of the absentee sun. No wind blew through the massive cave to cool the fauna and promote the pollination of the meager flora. Due to the lack of a natural atmospheric cycle, the earliest generations of settlers had devised a method for industrializing the use of carbon dioxide scrubbers to save their people from suffocating like a litter of kittens beneath a heavy blanket. These adaptations, along with thousands of other innovations, empowered the citizens of Nox with the capability to carve out a self-sustaining city despite the hostile environment.
Of all humanity’s inventions to stave off the dark shroud of death, there were none more crucial than the ONI. The Organic Nanite Interface impacted every facet of life for the people who called Nox home. The nanites each citizen received at birth supplemented everything from the air they breathed to the food they consumed. The populace was so dependent on the ONI for their biological needs that cooked food had become a rare treat. A synthetically constructed cube of vitamins and minerals provided the solution to potential starvation. Engineered to sustain both the ONI and the human hosts, nanites could break down the ration cube into its constituent components within seconds. Once broken down at the atomic level, a single cube could provide enough sustenance to maintain the life processes of a human and their ONI for up to three days.
“Depthless dark, I hate those things.” Mary cursed, bent forward and gagging like she’d eaten a spotted toadstool instead of a nutricube fresh from the dispenser. “The sacrifices I make for you, Ratty.” The young woman mumbled, brushing her black ringlets away from her face to regard him balefully with a set red, watery eyes. “Next time I have the choice between you and lunch, I’m taking the food.”
Rathaniel shared a look with Marco while the tall, blonde haired man dutifully rubbed Mary’s back to sooth his paramour. He diplomatically chose not to mention the scene Mary had made when she’d run across the to tackle him mere moments after he’d passed through the scanner at the entrance. The only thing that kept them from making an even bigger spectacle of themselves was the half meter in height and fifty plus kilograms in weight he had over his old friend. Instead of Mary’s exuberance knocking them both to the floor, the effect had resembled something akin to her running face first into a human-shaped wall.
“I’ll treat you to lunch on our next rec day.” Mary’s mollified expression changed to one of abject horror as Rathaniel continued. “I’m sure Abigail would want to join us as well. We really hit it off on the tram, don’t you think?” Rath shot her a roguish wink before he tossed back the nutricube that was roughly twice the size of his thumb.
As a child, one of the Dormitory magisters had shared a legend about the hubris of man turning the world above into an endless sea of sand. In her stories, the wind storms that swept across the desert's towering dunes were so powerful, and the sand so limitless, that solid stone crumbled beneath the onslaught. The sensation he felt when a tingling vortex of nanites disintegrated a nutricube always brought along thoughts of his old teacher and her fabulous tales. Thankfully, unlike the eons of erosion described in Magister Sigma’s bedtime stories, it only took three seconds to dismantle his synthesized lunch.
“I take it you two are finished enjoying your meal?” Marco rumbled, blithely ignoring the venomous look Mary cast over her shoulder at him. “Then let’s get going. We’ve got a long story to share with Krista and I’d rather we do that before another disaster strikes. At this rate we’ll be due for an earthquake or a dweller incursion before we get off the mag-lift .”
“Lead the way,” Rath replied, sparing a quick glance across the lobby. After his encounter with the Peace Keeper, he felt like everyone in the building was watching him.
The ground floor of Sector C Residential Building Four was a large fifty meter square chamber. Polished granite flooring, speckled with brown, gray, and blue, stretched from the entrance to the mag-lift doors lining the far wall. Rows of meticulously arranged columns, carved and polished from the same speckled stone as the floor, loomed over the chamber while supporting the vaulted concrete ceiling high above. A circle of soil surrounded each column, from which thick, broad-leafed vines rose to climb the marble pillars. High above, Suspended from the concrete ceiling by invisible wires, hung dozens of coldlights. They were the same devices used in street lamps to produce pale white light without any heat. Much like their exterior cousins, the glowing lights dangling above the lobby tried in vain to banish every shred of darkness clinging to their little piece of the city. While admirable, the effort was doomed to fail. Generations of humanity subsisting within Magna Spelunca had learned that you couldn’t illuminate the dark without creating a shadow.
When Rath fell into step beside Mary once more, he felt the knot in his gut begin to loosen for the first time since his shuffle. The cord of anxiety, cinched around his mind with furious resentment, had nearly snapped, more than once, the course of the morning. Now, close to his friends and in the relative safety of his home, Rathaniel began to shed those ragged emotions like a snake shedding its skin.
“Do you think Krista is at home?” Mary asked, looking from one man to the other as they approached the waiting mag-lifts.
“If she isn’t we’ll go to our place,” Marco replied, his broad shoulders lifting in shrug. “I don’t think Ratty has to worry about going back to his apartment. If anything was going to happen, it would have happened before now.” The big man came to a stop then, turning to look at Rathaniel while they waited for the mag-lift to open. “But there’s no reason to take unnecessary chances. Dexter lives a few doors down from Rath’s place. We can ask him to keep an eye out for any unexpected visitors.”
A frown tugged at the corner of Rath’s lips when Marco mentioned his neighbor’s name. Expecting his reaction, Mary was already studying him with a side-eyed stare while she tried to contain the smile that bloomed across her face. Knowing he’d been caught, Rath tried to smooth his expression with a bored yawn.
“What’s wrong, Rat-tee,” Mary said, her sing-song soprano accenting each syllable like a child reciting a nursery rhyme. “Aren’t you glad your bestie, Dex the Flex, is going to be there to look after you? I bet we'll find him with Kirsta! They have spent an awful lot of time together lately. I wonder why?”
“Dex the Flex?,” Rath said, a dubious look written across his face as he regarded the young woman.. Mary returned his skepticism with a self-satisfied grin.
“It’s what all the girls call him,” Marco said, his typical rumbling baritone replaced by a long suffering sigh. His visible relief when the doors to the mag-lift opened was a sure sign that the events of the day had worn on the stoic man. “They call him that because of that thing he does where he crosses his arm and clenches and relaxes his bicep.”
“I guess it's a nervous tick or something,” Mary said, entering the two meter by two meter mag-lift with a pirouette that sent her shoulder length ringlets a whorl. “We probably shouldn’t make fun of him for it,” the young woman conceded, “but he probably shouldn’t act like every woman in the city is tripping over herself to get reprimanded for unlicensed contact.” As the doors closed behind the two men, she hunched her slender shoulders forward and stuck out her tongue. “Yuck. It’s gross. He’s gross.”
Rathaniel was still mouthing Dexter’s unfortunate nickname when Marco rose to the absent man’s defense. “He’s not that bad, Mary.” The blonde man’s calloused fingers deftly punched in their destination on the keypad set into one wall of the lift. Marco waited until they felt the lift begin its silent ascent before continuing, “He gets nervous. It doesn’t help that some of your friends are convinced every man in the city is tripping over themselves to get reprimanded.“
Rath noted Marco’s tired tone as well as the silent glare Mary cast at her paramour’s back. Apparently this was a well rehearsed argument between the two. Eager to avoid the sore subject, he tried to steer the conversation in a more constructive direction. There were things that they needed to discuss before they got surrounded by their other friends.
“Is there anything we need to leave out of our story today?,” Rath said, his hazel eyes drifting from Mary to Marco while trying to gauge their reactions.
Mary’s reaction was as aggressive as it was predictable. She was already turning toward him before he could finish. She pursed her lips into a thin, pale line and her brown eyes gleamed with the anticipation of lashing out at a new target. “Oh no. No, no, no, Ratty. I can’t wait to tell Krista about that analyst tramp.” The petite young woman planted her hands on her hips and leaned forward threateningly, as if daring Rathaniel to try and dissuade her.
Rath looked toward Marco only to find the other man wearing the widest grin he’d ever seen on his quiet friend’s face. Out of sight behind the fiery young woman, Marco had the gall to give Rath an encouraging thumbs up for sacrificing himself upon the altar of Mary’s wrath. Reflex made him roll his eyes at the other man’s antics. Rath immediately regretted his response when an indignant shriek reverberated through the lift like the sound of a stone gecko being startled awake from its nap.
“Did you roll your eyes at me?!,” Mary fumed, oblivious to her paramour’s shaking shoulders as he struggled to keep from laughing at Rathaniel’s plight. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”
When the lift came to a stop, it took all Rath’s restraint to keep himself from diving through the door as it hissed open. Marco was the first to depart, followed by Mary after the vengeful woman released a haughty sniff. Trailing behind her like a chastised child, Rath groaned in frustration, “Come on, Mary. This has nothing to do with Abigail. I don’t care about any of that so tell Krista whatever you want. We have more important things to worry about right now. Or did you forget that Jared is still in custody and we haven’t figured out how to get him out?
It was Mary’s turn to look like a sulking child. When Rathaniel mentioned their incarcerated friend the young woman wilted. In silence, the trio let several moments pass while they each gathered their thoughts.
Unlike the lobby below, the familiar hallway lacked even a token gesture toward aesthetic appeal. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all uniformly molded from the same gray concrete. The brutal utilitarian construction was augmented by coldlights set into the ceiling and evenly spaced doors lining both walls. Each door had an identification number carved into it along with a name plate made of removable tiles. Once a room was assigned to a citizen, it was their home for the duration of their tenure within Nox. The only exceptions were the lucky few who received approval for a cohabitation license. For most, the apartment granted to them upon graduation from the Dormitory would be their only home until they left the city walls. Age and the onset of infirmity would eventually evict them from the residential towers. Then, as a reward for a lifetime of service, they would relocate to one of the five outposts outside the city. There, among the rest of the aging population, they would spend the last of their time within Magna Spelunca guarding the land beyond the walls. After all, there were dangers that lurked in the dark and Nox was loath to risk citizenry in their prime when the city had a much more disposable population segment available for the task..
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Marco broke the silence, his voice pitched low so as not to be overheard through the doors lining both sides of the hallway. “I think the potential danger is what worries Rath,” the blonde man said.. “We know they pinched Jared because he was associated with Ovie. If they do the same to the people who associate with Rath, or us, then we’re putting everyone in danger by telling them about what’s going on.”
There was a molten hue of Mary’s brown eyes when she turned toward Marco. The bitter scowl twisting her lips was enough to make Marco lift his palms in surrender. “I’m not saying that we should keep everything to ourselves. For light’s sake, we’re still walking toward Krista’s place. Take a moment and think, Mary,” Marco continued, a rare note of exasperation entering his rumbling voice. “Rath is saying he’s worried we could be putting our friends in danger. And he’s right. We could be doing exactly that. It still may be the correct thing to do, but we should all recognize that we are bringing the attention of the Keepers and the Administrators right to Krista’s doorstep.”
To the surprise of both men, Mary came to a complete stop. Without a word, the slender woman unzipped her white coveralls down to her waist and tugged first one arm, then the other, from its sleeves. With the synthcloth of her coveralls gathered at her waist, Mary cinched the sleeves together in a tight knot against her stomach. This left the young woman clad in a sleeveless shirt who’s thin material clung to her body, for a top and the rugged jumpsuit from the waist down. Wearing her uniform, even her rec whites, like this in public would be borderline indecent. But to Mary, and all the rest of the labor caste with an apartment here, Sector C Building Four was not a public place. It was a home.
“Jared is a member of the labor caste, Marco,” Mary said, her slender fingers fussing with the hem of her shirt. After arranging the sleeves of her coveralls to expose the right amount of bare tummy, she continued, “We’re not bringing trouble to Krista or anyone else. Because trouble is already here. This isn’t Jared’s trouble, or Ovid’s trouble, or Rathaniel’s trouble, it’s our trouble.”
“You’re right,” Rathaniel said, feeling Mary’s gaze flicker over him when, like Marco, he slid halfway out of his coveralls. The men wore the same sleeveless shirts beneath their uniforms, each one tight enough that you could see the hint of muscle slithering dangerously beneath their skin when they moved.
“I don’t know if everyone will agree," Rath said, struggling to articulate his feelings. "They deserve the chance to decide for themselves if they want to be involved in this. That’s the only fair thing to do for them, for Jared, and for us.”
Marco nodded in silent agreement before one of his long arms slid around Mary’s shoulder. Like a python, the big man’s arm tightened around his paramour with a predatory grace. With a smile Mary slipped her slim arm around Marco’s waist.
In an unspoken agreement the trio ended the discussion and resumed the trek down the hall. Twice they heard doors opening and closing behind them before arriving at the second to last door on the left. When they arrived the men hesitated for several heartbeats before Mary released a strangled sound of impatience.
“Krista! Get dressed and open up!,” Mary’s voice ricocheted down the long hallway. To make matters worse, the heavy thump of her open palm hammered against the metal door with every word.
When the door opened, a squirming Mary was struggling to escape from the grip of the men flanking her. A wide-eyed Rathaniel held one of Mary's wrists while a nonplussed Marco held the other. In the time it took the woman opening the door to assess the situation, Mary's captors released her. Unflappable as always, Marco offered a greeting as if Mary shouting in the hallway were a common occurrence.
“We were hoping you’d be home,” the big man said. “It’s been a busy morning and there’s a few things we thought you should know. Do you mind if we come in?”
“Sure. Yeah. Come on in. It's going to be a little crowded.” The tall blonde woman replied, her sparkling sapphire eyes regarding Marco and Mary intently before settling on Rathaniel. Still watching him, she stepped back and motioned them inside with regal wave of her hand.
While Marco and Mary stepped through the threshold, Rathaniel allowed himself a moment to study Krista Claybourne. Shoulder length locks the color of spun gold framed her heart-shaped face. Plush lips and a button nose only seemed to accentuate the allure of her deep blue eyes. The color of uncut gemstones, those beautiful eyes sparkled with both intellect and concern. Krista wore the same white shirt as Mary, its snug fit accentuating the natural curves of her body and leaving little of her toned physique to the imagination. The shorts she wore were also a snug fit, covering everything from her navel to the middle of her thighs in tight synthcloth. Like her arms, her pale legs were the toned products of life within the labor caste.
When she smiled at him Rathaniel couldn’t resist the impulse to do the same. For the first time today a genuine smile, unshackled with anxiety or guilt, tugged at the corners of his lips. When he stepped through the threshold he finally felt safe and comfortable,
Those feelings, along with the smile on his lips, withered and died when he stepped past Krista and saw Dexter. Like the lady of the house, Dexter wore a simple synthcloth shirt along with a pair of shorts in rec white. He was as heavily muscled as Marco, every inch of his body etched in tight knots of corded muscle. The laborer stood several centimeters shorter than Krista, giving him an even stockier look than the one Marco presented.
Rathaniel actually didn’t know Dexter’s last name because the man had never introduced himself. Rath never bothered to ask anyone else. Since the first day they’d met, several mensis ago, in this very apartment, Dexter had been abrasive and confrontational of anything and everything Rath said or done. Krista and the rest seemed to think the two men needed to get to know one another better. One look at Dexter’s strained smile and flinty blue eyes told Rath that the last thing the other man wanted was to get to know him better.
“Well look what the lizard brought home,” Dexter said, clapping his hands once with an enthusiasm that felt forced to Rathaniel. “What brings you all by? Krista and I were getting ready to take a nap.”
“Dex was getting ready for a nap,” Krista interjected smoothly, guiding Rath to the side so she could step around him and take hold of Mary’s hand. As she led the other woman across the room toward the only two seats in the apartment, she continued in her usually lighthearted soprano voice, “I was going to the city center. I knew you two were already there and I thought I might catch Jerry and Rath after their shuffle.”
As Krista finished, she and Mary settled onto the room’s two stools. Like every apartment in the residential building, the place Krista called home was slightly larger than the mag-lift they’d taken up to her floor. A hammock, currently occupied by Dexter, hung in one far corner. The other housed a sonic shower that let residents scour away anything on their skin that their nanites couldn’t recycle. The only other item in the room was the small table that Mary and Krista had claimed for themselves. The space was small enough that it felt cramped with the five of them all inside, but typically a citizen didn’t need much private space. Water and food rationing meant that meals were never eaten anywhere besides a public distributor. For most citizens, of any caste, their apartment was little more than a place to sleep between work shifts.
“I think I should start at the beginning.” Rath said, ignoring the way Dexter crossed his arms and the smirk that flashed across Mary’s lips. Marco leaned back against the door to give Rath as much space as he could. “Jared and I met at the Administration building for our shuffle today. While we were waiting, he started talking about Ovid.”
For the fourth time, and hopefully the last, Rathaniel shared the details of his shuffle and the reasons behind Jared’s incarceration. Mary only tried to interrupt once when Rath was covering the trip on the tram. The thunderous look Marco shot her way caused the troublemaker to fall silent. Rathaniel was surprised that she didn’t try harder to steer the conversation toward his interaction with Abigail. He was also surprised that he managed to go through the whole story without feeling the anger and resentment that had been ever present since this morning. Perhaps it was the luxury of time that let him set aside his fury. Or perhaps it was the Keeper’s words outside the residential building that had quenched his rage.
“What does any of that have to do with us?,” Dexter said, his right bicep twitching as he spoke. “Seems to me Ovid was messing around with something he shouldn’t have been and got caught by the Keepers. He told Jared about it and it got him pinched, too.”
Dexter leaned back into the hammock, letting a sharp gaze, like chipped ice, slice from one intruder to the other. “Now you’re here telling us about it. So what do you want? To get us reprimanded?,” he said, ending his words with a challenging stare toward Marco.
“If you don’t want to hear what we have to say, you can leave. Then we’ll finish our conversation with our friend.” The venom in Rathaniel’s voice surprised everyone in the room, even himself. His barbed words drew a physical reaction from Dexter. The stocky man leaned back, sucking in a sharp breath through his pearly white teeth. Out of the corner of his eye Rath noticed Krista’s frown and the way Mary’s brows knit together.
“You gonna make me leave, Rat boy?,” Dexter said, his lips twisting in a sardonic parody of a smile. With the grace of a gymnast, the blonde man slid from the hammock and snapped his thick neck first to the left, then to the right, each time eliciting an audible crack of popping vertebrae.
“Rath isn’t going to do anything, Dex. And neither are you.” Marco made no move to step away from the door, but the big man did shift, giving the impression of a rock slide that could come roaring down a mountain at the slightest provocation. “We’re here to talk. The sooner you let Krista talk the sooner we’ll all go home.”
Sensing her chance, the blonde woman spoke up from her seat by the table, “I’m glad you came to me, Rathaniel. It breaks my heart that Jared got taken into custody. You know he taught me everything I needed to know the first time I pulled park duty on service day? He’s one of the best of us, no matter what the Blankets say about him.” Krista leaned forward then, hooking her feet into the legs of the stool and placing her palms on her knees as she continued, “What can we do though? I understand that this may not be his fault, but all that stuff is way out of our control, isn’t it? We’re laborers, Rath.”
Rath would have felt crushed at Krista’s words if Dexter’s satisfied smirk hadn’t ignited his entire world in a furious red haze. Unbidden, his right hand clenched and he felt his ONI begin to heat up the same way it had outside the Admin building when Jerrry was arrested. The change in his body language when he mechanically pivoted to face Dexter was enough to erase the other man’s smirk. Before Rath could move further, he felt Marco’s heavy hand settle on his shoulder. He tried to shrug out of the restraint, but Marco’s vise-like grip was not so easily deterred.
“It’s been a long day and all three of us are tired,” Mary said, reaching an empty hand across the table which Krista quickly filled with her own. Mary continued to speak, her soothing tone directed at Rath, though her eyes focused on Krista as they laced their fingers together. “We don’t know what we can do. Not yet, anyway. What we need from you, from everyone, is information. We think that if we can find Ovid he can exonerate Jared. At the very least, he can tell us what he did to get the Keepers attention.” The petite woman squeezed Krista’s hand once, firmly, before rising to her feet. “Can you do that for us, Kris? Ask around. Someone has to have seen Ovid.”
“I’ll do anything I can, you know that.” Krista avoided looking at Dexter’s scowl. Instead she let her gaze drift toward the fuming Rathaniel. “I’m sure I’ll see some of our friends at the city center this evening. I”ll ask around. I got shuffled to the vertical farms so maybe some of the others on that work detail knew him.”
“Thank you, Krista. That’s all we could ask.” Marco’s quiet baritone held a note of finality that was punctuated by the sound of the door’s latch being thrown open. As Krista stood up, Mary took the opportunity to throw her arms around her friend in a greedy hug. After a few murmured promises to see each other soon, Mary took her cue and slipped through the open doorway with Marco trailing along right behind her.
Rathaniel had already turned to step toward the door when he felt the brush of slender fingertips against the back of his hand. Startled, Rath was still blinking the surprise from his hazel eyes when he turned toward the beautiful blonde woman.
“You should stop by after work tomorrow.” In a moment of deja vu, Rath found it difficult to focus beyond the enchanting eyes of a captivating woman. “The farms are closer than the mines, so I’m sure I’ll be home before you. Maybe I’ll find someone who’s talked to Ovie.”
“Bye, Ratty. Thanks for the visit,” Dexter called from the back of the apartment, his voice causing Krista’s smile to thin into a pale line.
Rather than acknowledge Dex, Rath flashed Krista a thankful smile to accompany his quick, decisive nod. “Will do. Thanks for being here, Kris. I knew I could count on you.” With that, he tore his gaze away and stepped through the doorway into the hall beyond.
The door shut behind him and the trio of laborers were alone again. Thankfully, since they were at the far end of the hall, they could take a different set of mag-lifts to their own floors. Mary didn’t even have time to finish complaining about Dex the Flex before they were standing in front of the lifts saying their goodbyes.
Mary clung to him a bit too tightly and Marco’s grip during the handshake they shared was uncomfortably firm. He knew they meant well and he appreciated their concern more than he’d ever be able to convey. Rathaniel knew he’d relied on their support today. He also knew, as the lift doors hissed shut to carry him up to his floor, that he’d need their support even more tomorrow and in the days to come.
Because tomorrow would be the day they begin to fight back.