Cassidian
Slouched within the comfortable black padded rear seat of the innertaxi, I stared out the windows at the dizzying Torsian world passing me by. The pinpricks of light up ahead were being swallowed up in a sudden wall of darkness and I leaned forward curiously, realizing soon that we had arrived. The void was the sea beyond, and the black monoliths against a dirty orange sky were the desalination towers lined up like dominos on the southern shore. A fine mist which I presumed was water vapor hung around them and curled away in the wind. We descended through this veil, causing beads of water to build up before falling away again in streaks, and once through I could then see midrise buildings nestled there as well. There were bright lights pointed upwards and a vast crowd gathered outside one of the white lowly buildings. Above them was a large screen which read, “Lies From Above: Four Tales of Canopian Betrayal.”
“Approaching destination,” the ship’s voice said as we pulled aside into the stationary lane.
“Is there a show about to begin?” I asked, peering out the window. Between the artery’s edge and building’s façade the wide sidewalk was entirely full of people, idly chatting as if waiting for the doors to open. They were well dressed too: men in suits and ties and women in short gowns, many of them sporting bands around their thighs made of glowing lace.
“The next show time for this performance is twenty-three hundred hours, which is thirty-two minutes from now. However it seems from my query that tickets are no longer available. I recommend that you contact the ticket office-”
“Open the door,” I said.
The gullwing door opened upwards and I slowly climbed out, looking past the crowd and up at the gray misty ceiling above, which is where many of the people were looking anyway. I could see a desalination tower further way, its black building tiles disappearing into the water vapor about five stories up, but that is not what drew my attention. What was more interesting was the fine latticework of black spokes rising up from the ground behind the building and into the very same mist - something that was almost impossible to see at first against the night sky, but once I saw them my head continued to tilt upwards as my eyes followed them, seeing where they could possibly end.
It was scaffolding of some sort, yet on a mammoth scale. The lattice seemed to start at the desalination tower to my left, curve behind the back of the white minimalist horizontal building in front of me, finally meeting back at a second desalination tower much further away to my right.
“Magnificent,” a slender man said, nearby, to no one in particular. He twirled a walking cane, even though it appeared that he didn’t need one, and its round glass tip glowed a bright ruby red.
Ducking my head back into the innertaxi, I realized that it would not recognize my departure since I was a Delete. “I’ve changed my mind,” I said softly.
“Yes, sir?”
“I wish to go to the northern coast,” I said.
“That is very far from here. Let me calculate the funds required.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said, backing away from the gullwing door. “I have the funds. Leave at once and do not speak to me until we arrive. I wish to sleep.”
“Yes, sir,” the ship said as the door started closing with a hiss. Walking behind the innertaxi, I got a last glimpse of Blue’s limp body before the door shut completely with a click.
“Goodbye, Blue,” I said to myself as the innertaxi rose slightly and moved forward away from me. Once it merged into artery traffic the taillights became arc trails as it sped away.
“Too much to drink?”
I turned towards the sidewalk, stepping out of the stationary lane as another innership descended behind me. “I’m sorry?” I said. It was the man with the ruby cane speaking to me.
“Your friend in the innertaxi.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yes. He’s always had a problem controlling himself.”
“Too bad for him. He’s going to miss an amazing show. First time you’re seeing it, I wager.”
I nodded my head, meeting his gaze but looking around at the crowd as well, seeing if there were any blacksuits among them. I could not spot any in uniform, but that didn’t mean much. At an upscale event such as this, any blacksuit presence would likely be subdued and covert.
“Yes,” I said disinterestedly. “First time.”
He looked up and down, the light from his cane making his face glow demonically. “You need an evening jacket, fellow Torsian.”
“My friend is bringing one,” I said, silently thankful for my decision to change shirts with the unconscious Blue in the innertaxi moments prior. Any trace of blood on me would have been noticed at once by the astute stranger in front of me.
My lie sufficed as he nodded, tapping his cane. “Let’s hope this friend of yours is awake, unlike the last.” I could tell he thought his remark was extremely clever, the way he laughed at himself quietly. “The final two acts are brilliant,” he added after a moment’s pause. “Just brilliant. This is my third time seeing it.”
I nodded towards the latticework. “Just what is that for then? Part of the show?”
He pointed with the cane upwards. “You have not even heard about the constructed stage? You are truly in for a great surprise then. First, notice how the energy curtain in front of us is turned off.” He pointed to the darkness far above the building and crowd. It was more orange than black, but it didn’t shimmer.
“The tier boundary.”
“Yes,” he said excitedly. “They turn off the curtain for this performance. Just this vertical section of it, of course. There are innerships out there, hovering above the endless sea which will be launching fireworks at the beginning of the show and in-between acts. Just brilliant.”
“The latticework-”
“It’s the backdrop, fellow Torsian. The screen is massive, and it rises up and down between acts. It also serves as a support for the acrobatics you are about to see.”
“There are acrobats?”
“Yes. The tier’s greatest gymnasts will be singularly falling from above, symbolizing the Canopian notion that only the perfect is worthwhile. Their attack on our collectivism, so to speak.”
“I see-”
“That we are incapable of becoming anything better, nothing as close to their erroneous notion of individual purity, which of course is the doctrine of Canopy. But in the end, that’s when we as a tier are our own salvation. You will see that with your very own eyes, towards the end.” He was shuddering in his own private world of excitement, raising his voice. “Surely you’ve seen the promotional advertising.”
“I have not-”
But then he was suddenly standing on tiptoes, waving to another innership slowing down to a stop in the stationary lane behind me. “My group is here, so I am afraid I must go. Enjoy the show, fellow Torsian.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“And remember,” he said, flipping his cane around and pointing the smoldering tip of it at me. “Alone we fall, but working together we will rise.”
I nodded absently, turning around to meet the crowd. Seeing many of them already looking up in marvel I somewhat relaxed, knowing that if I did the same I would not look out of place (with the exception of my informal dress). Pushing forward, I navigated through the throng, walking to the edge of the white linear building and around its left side. Soon the people and noise were behind me and I continued towards the back of the building and hung in the shadows there near one of the lattice’s twisting columnar foundations. I could see through the numerous spokes that the empty stadium seats were already setup, all oriented in a crescent facing outwards at the inactive curtain and dirty orange sky beyond. A few people walked among the aisles there, perhaps scanning for litter before the next show began.
The burrow was nearby, I knew then. Undoubtedly so. The desalination towers crossed upwards into Canopy and would therefore be highly guarded at their entrances. Nobody without proper access would be admitted there. However the latticework of cables above me seemed to end very near the desalination towers on each side, and these would conceivably offer the opportunity to enter them from the outside, high above the Torsian ground.
The only question was which one. Which tower? There were two of them, and the other one was on the far right end of the Institute of Art building – at least a ten minute walk from my current location. I looked up and sighed in frustration as I realized the gray mist over me was a low ceiling through which nothing could be seen. If Myria and Lei were climbing somewhere up there, I would never know it.
But luck was with me. At that moment a rare sharp breeze blew through the area, most likely from the unfettered sky just south of me. It caused the gray mist above to stretch and twist, as tendrils were pulled away from the gauzy heights. In that moment more of the black desalination tower could be seen briefly. Its tiled windows seemed shiny yet they reflected nothing, and the bottom part of a mammoth circular sign hanging many stories above the front entrance could be read.
In ultra-wide red blockish numbers, the sign simply said “15”.
Lei had mentioned he worked in tower fifteen.
Immediately I rushed down the angled length of the latticework, moving further away from the white Institute of Art building and towards desalination tower fifteen. As I ran it became much darker, the upturned flood lamps flanking the main entrance out of reach. But then I kicked something with my feet and it slid across the paved ground before coming to a rest. Kneeling down quickly, I picked up the circular palm-sized device.
It was a spent empod.
I dropped it as another large flood light loomed right next to me in the shadows, its convex lens aimed up eagerly. But it was full of darkness.
“Lei, Lei, Lei,” I mumbled to myself, looking up from where I stood. “Is this where you both climbed up?” Taking a few final steps, I discovered I was at the far edge of the latticework, but still surprisingly many feet away from the edge of the desalination tower. A large gap of night air sat in-between the two structures.
Movement and light from the corner of my eye caught my attention through the wall of cables. The inner doors had been opened and people were starting to stream into the theatre from the bright foyer beyond. They were very far away, but I could still make out their open mouths as they saw the naked night sky in front of them.
They would not be looking in my direction, not a single one of them. Even if a wandering eye should fall my way, the darkness and water vapor would make it seem an aberration. An illusion, perhaps. Or simply a stagehand, preparing for the show.
Quickly, I started climbing up into the mist.