Zia's arms and back ached from escaping the ship and she didn't know if she could muster the energy to traverse thousands of winding steps. Rickety stairs spiraling into Ickwall wrapped around the lining of the abyss. Gusts of hot air swept up and over her, tasting of smoke and oil. She wrinkled her small nose and wondered what caused the smell. Probably mining, she told herself.
She scanned her surroundings for a less taxing method of entering Ickwall. Several caged lifts lined the walls of Ickwall, but not all of them looked fit for travel. Ever-cautious, Zia checked them for safety and most had missing gates, rusted out floors, or broken control panels. She wondered how the people of Ickwall managed to travel down to Ickwall every day with treacherous stairs and lifts that barely functioned.
When she found one suitable for use she tip-toed inside, but she did not trust it. The small enclosure swayed back and forth, causing her to grip caging in haste, she laced her fingers through the wire and held with all her might. When she glanced past her feet and through the metal grates of the flooring her stomach dropped and blood whooshed in her ears, pinpricks of light coming from the city far below rocked with the lift. She blew a wavy coal lock of hair out of her eyes and adjusted her red glasses.
From the top, Ickwall looked far away, but in the lift with nothing but iffy metal separating her from plummeting to her death, the bottom appeared miles away. Zia took a deep breath, pulled the door shut with one arm, locked it, jabbed the button for the descent and returned her hand to the clutching position.
"If the chains were to snap...," she thought as she inched down deeper towards the city. Structures clung to the walls of the deep cylindrical hole while massive tunnels wormed through the ground horizontally. She spotted small lights in the entrances of these channels and wondered if they were still in use and if so, what use they held.
"If the floor caved...," she worried when the lift halted suddenly, making knees buckle. It jerked and swayed and stalled, creaking and grinding the entire journey.
"If the door opened and I fell out...," she dared to imagine when the metal cage rocked violently from a strong upward gust from below. Zia shuddered and licked her lips, wishing she had just taken the stairs.
The lift moved at a snail's pace, but when she finally reached the bottom-most section of the pit, the real city in all of it's squalid majesty sprawled in front of her. Taking her time, she allowed herself to appreciate the details of the city. Zia squinted against the artificial light beaming down from thousands of lights above. A booming mechanical noise reverberated off the walls of the city without cessation, but to her, it sounded musical.
Buildings huddled together and squashed into blocks. Many stood tall while others sat squat. Most were brick or concrete, but many were made of stone. With no sunlight to allow inside, windows appeared to be a luxury. Alleys narrowed paper thin, one was so tiny Zia had to turn sideways to scoot through. She followed her ears and found the Square.
The shop keepers yelled and beckoned people closer. The half-crumbling culinary shops boasted fresh soups and broths, cheese and meat, vegetables and fruit, all for an affordable price in comparison to Genesis. There were barbers and apothecaries, news-stalls and tailors, tattoo's and piercings, electronics and mechanics. Ickwall possessed everything a person could want and there seemed to be room enough for thousands, but the city was sparsely populated. Zia wondered where all the citizens had gone.
People stood in small groups chatting while pulling rolling carts filled with goods. As she glanced around the square she noticed everyone looked years older than her. Whisperings of Genesis, Lucille, and the Farm Project dominated most conversations she overheard. Zia strained to listen and tried not to appear interested.
"They have no business stayin' in charge, they don't care what happens to us," a woman told the lady next to her in front of a dress shop window.
A man with a cane and soot on his clothes mumbled, "Ya know, tha Pres doesn't know the first thing about keepin' a mine goin'," to the wrinkled man beside him waiting for his meat.
The scents wafting from the shops made her dizzy and hunger growled in her stomach. Zia realized she felt quite hungry. When she stopped in front of a shop selling sweets a man covered in bright tattoos offered her sample. He handed her a delicious chocolate wafer drizzled with raspberry sauce and red spicy dust. Zia savored the morsel and took the tiniest of bites. She felt cheated, having missed out on such a wonderful treat for all of her life.
Her footsteps rang on the cobblestone as she strode across the thoroughfare in her lightweight black jumpsuit. Trying to determine where she was and where she needed to go she took a moment to stop.
That's when a woman with almost no teeth approached her from the shadows of an alley.
"Ya need some help, dearie? Ya look a little young to be out and about in Ickwall at this hour, what's wrong with ya?"
Zia jumped back, she told herself to pay more attention. She didn't know how the people of Ickwall measured age and didn't want to seem stupid.
"I'm old enough and perfectly normal, thank you." Zia's tried to move past her.
"What'ya need, girl?" Her translucent white hands grasped Zia's, all veins visible.
The woman stood a foot shorter than her and when Zia looked into her eyes she saw something wild, but kind. The Confero had spoiled her and she recognized that easily enough, but she remembered what it took to be resourceful. The Farm had taught her that.
"I'm looking for a place to stay tonight, somewhere safe until I figure out where to go next..." On the ship, Archie had told Zia to go to a man named Allistor who lived in Ickwall, but she had no idea where to start looking. If I could just gain my bearings for one night, she thought.
"Aw, what a shame..., but I think I know a place. They'll fix ya up if you're willing to help out, no question about it." The woman's head bobbed up and down as she waited for Zia's response and when it didn't come soon enough the woman said, "What's yer name, dearie? Mine's Ingrid Aaron," she adjusted the tattered shawl draped over her scrawny shoulders.
Zia thought for a moment, she only had one name. Violet had two and so did Mr. Hubert, but she didn't. So she made one up. She wanted one that meant something...hopeful. She thought back to the old books that translated Latin back at the library and remembered the word for hope.
"I'm Zia Spero," Zia said, feigning confidence.
The woman's eyebrows raised at the name,"Ya from Genesis or...?"
"I don't really want to talk about it." She hoped Ingrid would not press the matter.
Ingrid eyed her suspiciously for a moment then said,"Never mind, then. Keep yer many secrets yer own. I'll tell ya where to go. At the end of this 'ere street go left and keep on goin' straight for ten blocks. Stop when ya see the old library on yer right, it ain't much, but it was nice once. Just after that turn right look down tha street. Yer gonna see lights a couple blocks down. That's the house. They'll take ya in if they're awake."
She opened the map she had made on the ship before she had reached the Moon Colony and used her fingernail to scratch in the route. When Zia left the woman, she felt a pang of guilt. She hoped the woman would be safe on the streets.
She felt grateful for the woman's advice, but following Ingrid's directions proved to be more of an undertaking than Zia first imagined. After becoming lost and doubling back, she managed to find the library and just afterward saw the only lit building on the street.
There stood a tall, skinny house with slick green bricks. Windows lined the front like four rows of teeth, but they sat crooked and misshapen. It boasted four stories with a railed terrace on the roof. This place must have been beautiful once, thought Zia. The small metal sign hung over the recessed arched doorway, creaking on its hinges, but she couldn't see well enough to read it.
She had reached the building in the dead of night, but Zia knocked on the door with the hope that someone would answer, holding her breath.
"Who's 'ere?" a lilting female voice rang from the other side after a minute.
"A woman told me you could provide shelter?" Zia waited and shifted her weight to her right boot.
"What's yer name? What's yer age? How long ya been on the street?" The woman responded quickly in sing-song as if she had been repeating the questions her whole life.
Zia knew she would have to back her story up, so she told the truth sprinkled with a lie.
"Zia Spero, I don't know my exact age and I just came from the spaceport."
She heard a latch slide and noticed a pair of eyes looking through a rectangular slit in the door. The eyes studied her for a solid minute before the woman opened the door.
"Ya look nice enough, come on." The short woman had a face made entirely of wrinkles and black spiky hair. She stood in the doorway with her hands on her round hips.
"Thank you, I'm sorry it is so late." Zia walked into the home and remembered the ache in her back from opening the hatch on the ship. She rubbed at it, wincing. The woman ushered her into a sitting room and waved a hand at Zia's apology.
Armchairs and sofas lined the sitting room, each held one a different faded color and pattern. It smelled of tea and tobacco. Fragile little figurines and pictures occupied the mustard colored walls. A set of carpeted stairs twisted up into the higher levels. The ceiling sagged and a thin layer of dark dust encased the room, but everywhere she looked Zia was taken aback by the charm. The home appeared old, sure, but loved my the family inside. Violet would like it here, she thought.
"I stay up, don't worry, an old habit from when this place was busier." The woman wore a sad smile and plumped a cushion before sliding it behind her hunched back.
"Well, thank you anyway, I'm exhausted and I don't know if I could've made it through the night without your kindness," She appreciated the woman's offer, but wondered when she would start asking more questions.
"How did ya end up 'ere?" The woman hesitated to ask.
She let out a long sigh,"Um, I don't know, all I can remember is being at the spaceport and then I found my way down here. I'm sorry I can't tell you more." Zia went with the safest lie and hoped it would work.
The woman gestured for Zia to sit on the couch and took her hand, "Don't ya be sorry, dear. I'll tell ya what...why don't ya stay 'ere for tha night and when ya wake up, we can figure out what to do with ya."
Zia's heart skipped a beat and she gave the woman's hand a gentle squeeze,"I, I don't know how to thank you!"
"Ya can thank me tomorrow by helpin' me with some chores, yer gonna to meet Felix and Carmen and the boys I have livin' 'ere now. But ya must be quiet about the children, ya know how these things are," She gave Zia a knowing look before continuing, then beamed and sat a little straighter,"By the way, I'm Margo."
"Might I ask what this place is?" Zia wondered just what kind of home she had stumbled into.
Margo raised her chin and boasted,"This is Hyde House, dear. We take care of people. Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a cup of tea?"