Novel

The Outer

By: Christian Mueth

2/14/2017

Dear [insert editor],

Enclosed you will find a sample for my manuscript, The Outer.

Thank you for giving the time to read this. I hope you enjoy it.

Sincerely,

What would happen if somebody who had everything lost it all?

The Outer Snyopsis:

Centuries into the future, civilization is pushed in the confines of several mile high buildings that are peppered across the earth. National governments have been compressed into one unit: The Tower Federation. During the turn of the millennium, a man named “Michael,” is elected as their new representative. Though, everything shifts when he’s exiled from the Federation, and thrown into the world outside the buildings... The Outer.

About the Author:

Christian Mueth (born May 4th, 2000) has already self-published a fantasy novel called, “The Secret of Blackneck”. He’s also written numerous short stories, many of which are featured on his website, “CEMueth.Com”. “The Outer” is a science fiction novel, and the second novel by Christian Mueth.

Sample:

Chapter 1

A man bit his lip and wiped his hand across his sweaty brow. He had prominent cheekbones and crinkles between his eyes formed from a habit of smiling. Because of them, the look of exasperation appeared foreign on his face.

He let out a strained breath and started pacing in wide circles around the room he stood in. However, it was more deserving of the title room than most rooms are. The reason for this was that the space was utterly empty, save the man, a steel door and a single chair— the chair being anchored at the room’s center with thick screws. It had more room than most rooms could ever wish to have. It wasn’t decorated— besides the stainless white paint that was smoothed across every inch and the glowing light-fixture built into the ceiling. “The Serenity Center” is what this room was known as and there were at least two hundred on every floor.

Although nobody could’ve been able to tell that this room was designed for serenity from the man’s demeanor. He had his head buried in his hands and his back slumped toward the ground like a wilting flower. He was a very tall man, at the height of about six feet. However, he slouched so much that one would’ve thought he was a foot shorter.

The white paint in the room was in stark contrast to this man. He was dressed all in black. He was colored charcoal from his metal shoes— which had been neatly tightened with magnetic straps— to his crisply tailored suit and neatly combed hair. The only thing he wore that wasn’t this color was his expression. It was flushed in a thick crimson.

A low rap erupted from the door.

“Hey, Michael! You in there?” another man’s voice said. “The award ceremony is about to start. Unless you want to be sacked, it’s about time that you start moving!”

A blank face appeared on the fretful man— Michael.

Who’s talking to me? Michael thought. Are they even talking to me, or are they referring to somebody else?

There were a million other Michaels in the building— it wouldn’t come as a surprise to Michael if there was even one in a neighboring Serenity Center. There were only a few names that were used throughout the towering city, due to people choosing names on the basis of popularity. So, distinguishing between identities became a tricky task.

Michael let out a short laugh and the jubilance made his face look natural again.

Of course he’s referring to me, he thought, recognizing the familiar voice of his friend— Peter. Why am I overthinking everything? Any other day, the term “stress” wouldn’t even be a thought in my head.

This soothing knowledge was all it took to shoot Michael upright. Standing up so straight that he looked as if he were a breathing pole, he ran his hand through his hair and tried smoothing it out, despite it already being brushed. As he strutted over to the door, he flashed a winning smile and swiped his hand across a touch-screen to unlock it. Though it almost looked like he’d unlocked it by using his smile. With his newly calm posture, he felt his mind clear and the world around him shrink. It was as if his troubles had been compressed to the size of an ants and he was sprouting above them all.

While the door slid open to reveal Peter, the empty room around Michael, which had once appeared intimidating and overbearing, seemed mundane and commonplace. The sight of Peter, with his casual rumpled clothes, ruddy face and matted forest of auburn hair, was comforting. The two had been friends for most of their lives— thirty years to be exact. Seeing Peter reassured Michael that tonight was going to be fine.

I’ve been planning for this day to be one of the most monumental days of my life. I’m not going to let a small dose of fear tarnish years of planning. I can’t spend today worrying over nothing.

“What were you doing in there? Don’t tell me you’re having stage fright on tonight of all nights!” Peter said, chuckling as he slapped a hand against Michael’s back.

“No, I was just using the white walls to compare my teeth with,” Michael said with a grin that shielded any doubt from consuming him. “See! Perfectly clean!”

“Well they better be! If tonight goes well, that smile of yours is going to be lighting up every screen on the planet as we enter the next year!”

“Every screen on the planet”— those words punched Michael hard in the face. He’d been aware of how great of an impact the ceremony would make— but every screen on the planet? As much as he’d dwelt on the subject, he’d never thought of it that way.

The end of the year would mark the beginning of the 31st century and the greatest ceremony known to the world was taking place. It was the choosing of the Model Human of the Year— a yearly title that was bestowed to the person with the greatest occupation, ethics, charm and— most of all— efficiency. After a year of campaigning, Michael had been lucky enough to be chosen as one of the candidates. His success now depended upon the average voter. Michael rarely liked to focus on it, but the event was extremely delicate. A single, common voter might have the power to alter his future— for better or worse. Though he refused to believe that he was so powerless.

Michael was determined to earn the title and his stubbornness wouldn’t leave the outcome to chance. This is why he’d sided with Peter. Peter claimed that he knew people who would bring Michael the victory.

In spite of the peace that should have been brought by that, Michael thought that he felt his stomach churn.

Even if I win, it will have been earned through swindling.

The momentary guilt he felt fled when he remembered that he couldn’t afford to lose. From the time of his birth, he’d watched faces of the winners appear on screens every year, proudly showing off the bright badges and awards they were gifted. The hunger to taste the essence of their glory consumed him beyond all measure.

“Hello? Are you still there?” Peter asked, waving his hand in front of Michael’s face.

Michael snapped his head up from the ground and awoke from his daze. Adjusting to his surroundings again, he saw that he was already approaching the back door to the stage— and a massive hive of thousands of people.

How had everything happened so quickly? he wondered, flustered.

Michael’s hands began to quake neurotically and they pulled themselves into his pockets.

“This is probably going to sound ridiculous— I completely forgot that we were talking! I was just— just thinking about the scores on my game!” Michael said, grinning like a clown as he slipped a thin band of goggles out of his pocket and started adjusting it onto his head.

These devices were commonly known as smart-goggles. The lenses in them doubled as screens, allowing people to play on it. It was an addictive pastime that Michael, along with many others, often immersed himself in. Playing videogames helped Michael forget about his mounting troubles— it placed him in a world where he had easy control. He felt the twitching pangs that covered his body slowly come to a halt.

“Hey, not until after the ceremony!” Peter snapped, tearing the goggles off of Michael’s face and shoving them in his pocket. After seeing Michael give him a look just short of horror, his face softened. “Sorry Mike for being so intrusive… I don’t know what came over me… It just annoys me when you put that thing on!”

An unpleasant silence leeched onto the pair for a moment. Michael stared at the backstage door, unmoving. He tightened his body to the point that it was just as still as the room around it. The goggles gave him a sense of relief in times of stress. They put him in a world where nothing could hurt or disturb him. Peter had just taken that away.

“Well, you wouldn’t have wanted it on anyway, considering that you’re just about to meet the crowd!” Peter said with a nervous laugh, as he shuffled around gruff men wheeling podiums and stands out the door and onto the stage. “You don’t want to anger them! After all, some of these candidates end up getting thrown out into the… Outer...”

His voice lowered into a coarse whisper.

The Outer was the world that lay outside of the shell created by enormous scrapers, which society now dwelt in— each scraper contained a stuffy mass of around fifty million people. The world relied on these structures— which were usually built three miles into the sky— to supply safety from the nauseating smog-filled atmosphere that lay outside it. To be thrown into the Outer meant you’d failed the Tower Federation somehow. The Tower Federation— also known simply as the Federation— was the ruling government that held all of the towers together.

Unlike the majority of the population, Michael favored the government. Perhaps this was because he was among the hierarchy— but he always felt that the Federation’s decisions were just and that they had strong reasoning to them.

Even though Peter was among the hierarchy, he held an opposite view and saw the Federation as cruel. As much as he wanted to, Michael couldn’t deny Peter’s claim— whether it be for disturbing the peace, or becoming obsolete and a waste of precious oxygen, people would find themselves spiraling down a near bottomless chute and landing in a trash heap somewhere in the deadly world below. There, it was said that people had to rely on your own wits to survive— that is, only if they managed to survive the drop. Despite the miniscule chance, Michael was of the belief that survival was simpler than most made it out to be.

However, as much as Michael tried, he couldn’t ignore the travesties that were caking around him. There were only a few skyscrapers peppered across the Earth— thirteen to be exact. There had once been dozens more, but the resources on Earth were dwindling and the success rate of the towering colonies were to blame. The Federation had become more eager than ever to cast people out, due to the fact that it was becoming harder to support the needs of the masses. The prevailing logic was that if the Federation couldn’t support the obsolete people, then it was doubtful that the harsh environment surrounding these towers would be able to do any better.

While Michael’s views were ignorant, there was still reason behind them. The tower Michael and Peter lived in was the powerhouse behind them all— often known as the “Hub”. The reason for it being the ultimate power over all of the other towers was because it held most of the Earth’s remaining resources and it was run by the Federation’s Board of Initiators. Because of this, poverty was a rarity among the Hub’s population. Whenever it did crop up, it was treated as a fluke or an act of chance.

Although even Michael recognized that Peter’s view had the stronger base. Despite the Hub’s advantages, it was still losing the necessary resources to keep running. Like every other tower, it was willing to remove any baggage produced by dysfunctional members. Peter’s father had suffered this fate. He’d been tossed in a riot when Peter was still a five-year-old child.

“Michael…” Peter said, holding back the emotion aroused by such a topic. “You have to promise me that, if you win, you’ll do all that you can to keep people from needlessly being thrown into the Outer… I can’t… I can’t bear the thought that others have had to deal with what I did and sometimes worse. You’ll have such an influence if you win— you need to use it wisely.”

Michael didn’t respond. He remained as adamant as a mule. He knew that Peter meant well, but Michael felt bare inside. He felt that Peter was putting too much weight on his shoulders and that Peter used no grace while doing it.

“And now, it’s time to welcome our candidates onto the stage!” a cerebral voice echoed through the door opposite to the apparent strain behind it.

“I have to go,” Michael grumbled.

“You’re acting out like a child! You know that, right?” said Peter, with a scornful glint in his eye.

Michael ignored him. Swiping the door open, Michael was nearly drowned by a fountain of flashes and cheers. Immediately, his face lit up with a vibrant grin that stretched from his high cheekbones to the corners of his eyes.

“Hear that?” Michael asked smugly. “Does that sound like they’re cheering for a child to you? If you really think that I should take advantage of my influence, then why haven’t you taken advantage of the influence that you claim to have?”

Peter opened his mouth angrily, though, before he could utter a word, Michael bounded on the stage, to his podium. Waving to the crowd, he gave a hearty handshake to the announcer and then cracked a few jokes that ruptured the audience in laughter.

Michael’s glee was but a facade. Peter could detect a bitterness hidden behind it.

Every so often, Michael’s eyes would flick to the door at the side of the stage from which he’d entered. While he couldn’t see Peter, Michael knew that he was there. Peter’s spiteful gaze was too potent for Michael to be unable to sense. So Michael made sure that he gave a few spiteful glances to the door in return.

Peter couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of Michael even as people pushed past him. He was looking at the image of the friend, whom he’d known nearly all of his life, swelling in a self-righteous pride—he was clearly enjoying his success without Peter’s help. The two had worked together for years, with Peter always supporting him. As Michael gave his welcome speech, however, there wasn’t even a mention of Peter’s name. Clenching his fists into a tight ball, Peter stormed away

Chapter 2

On the stage, Michael instantly forgot all of his fears. The weights seemed to have instantly rolled away before he’d even taken his first step outside the backstage door. He was like a new man in the midst of the masses and the people were easily swayed by his charm. They seemed to hang onto every movement he made, as if he were a rare spectacle and marvelous to behold. Whether he was playfully interrupting the other candidates to make a few jests or mocking the announcer's contorted expressions, the crowd gladly devoured it all.

However, the energy he carried steadily simmered as the ceremony drew closer to the voting. There were six other competitors, all who seemed deserving enough to win.

Will my performance be enough to convince the crowd to pick me? Michael asked himself.

After his fight with Peter, he could only hope.

As the last candidate gave his speech, everyone on the stage gave Michael a quick scowl— clearly, they weren’t pleased with his interruptions. Although he wasn’t able to worry about them now. The announcer was already stealing center stage and adjusting his microphone.

The man was a stubby old fellow, so it took him a minute to bring the microphone down to his level. This gave Michael a much-needed moment to think. Michael saw that his fate rested in the announcement the old man gave after the votes were cast. Michael instantly regretted belittling him.

Clearing his throat with a sickly gurgle, the stubby man began to speak. “And now, we reach the portion of the event where you vote for who you wish to win this year’s title of “Model Human of the Year." All of these candidates have earned their right to stand among you today, whether it be for exercising exceptional productivity, or simply keeping you… Entertained…”

He glared at Michael.

For a moment, Michael was highly offended— he’d worked countless hours advertising for a company that sold a spray which supposedly made people, “like you better”— at least those were the lines he was taught to recite.

While it might not be the highest of positions, I’ve offered an important contribution to society that’s beyond simple entertainment. After all, I’m good enough at my job to charm dozens of people into buying the product. That achievement can’t be replicated by a simple robot.

The announcer’s glare didn’t last long. With a quick jerk, which left his curled red wig bobbing in the air like a loose spring, the announcer returned to face the audience. “With each of the candidates having offered their position, which one which one will you choose? Beginning now, you have until a quarter to eleven to submit your vote. That should give you about ten minutes! That’s plenty of time to think and choose— as long as there aren’t any interruptions…” he gave another look towards Michael. Michael flashed an innocent wave in return.

The announcer grumbled but returned to his monologue. Struggling to bring cheer back into his voice, he said, “You can all start pulling out your smart-goggles and linking them with our voting server. If you need any assistance, we have our tech-governors that you can call on.”

The announcer then swiftly removed himself from the microphone and retreated to the backstage— swiftly when compared with most people his age, anyhow— while a flock of machines, hovering on propellers, descended from compartments in the ceiling. Several people launched red lasers out of an inch-wide instrument in their goggles and the robots— tech-governors— responded to the signal by spiraling towards the lasers. With their blades whizzing like a hummingbird’s wings, they carefully descended upon those who needed their aid. The whole audience went abuzz with excited chattering and laughing as they voted for their favorite candidate.

Michael bit his lip in apprehension. His concern fought against the flurry of a joyous cacophony.

What if they don’t choose me? I’ll never have another chance at this title again—not without feeling undeserving of it, anyway. How could I ever consider myself a good model for the masses if I’m unable to gain their favor?

These thoughts contradicted Michael’s initial plan to have Peter help him cheat. Michael’s fight with Peter that had quelled his confidence. Declaring independence from Peter might have meant declaring independence from Peter’s plan. It was then that Michael felt truly alone. If he failed, it would all be because of his own mistake. He knew that if the failure found a way to come upon him, he’d never be able to reconcile with himself.

As a friendly face waved at him through the crowd, he reverted to his normal demeanor— cool, collected and bearing a cheery grin.

I can’t hope to win if I’m not even willing to cater to people who will vote for me.

“I would be voting for myself right now,” he said, gesturing to the crowd in a mock speech, “But my goggles were nabbed by something that was reminiscent of a wild monkey!”

The announcer poked his head out of the backstage door, giving a wrinkled scowl at Michael. A few people chortled as they held back laughs. Michael wasn’t among them.

“There goes my right to speak with the audience,” Michael muttered, fumbling with his hands.

At this point, he was furious that his goggles had been taken.

What am I supposed to do without them?

He felt a dull headache fall onto his head with the crushing force of an anvil. Clammy beads of sweat slid down his brow. The last portion of the ten minutes seemed to drag by like molasses, leaving him in a fit of twitching that he struggled to control. He hated it when he was left without his smart goggles— it always left him feeling hollow and exposed. He couldn’t have felt more humiliated and inferior if his clothes were stripped from him.

There was something about the goggle’s metallic rims—the smooth indents etched into its sides to account for its many compartments— its dark screens that lit up in an opulent blue once activated. As he stared at a pair of goggles that his opponent was using, they almost seemed to call out to him, asking him to place them over his eyes and let their cold metal smolder the blazing concerns that licked at his mind.

Michael shook his head— he was letting his hands twitch uncontrollably once again.

“When are you going to get a grip?” he could already hear the voice of his father saying in reprimand. Michael’s temptation had always distracted him from his studies when he was younger and made him lose his focus on the straining nights when he’d needed to direct all of his attention to schoolwork. Everyone around him always complained about the addiction, whether it was his peers, his animatronic teacher or his parents. He couldn’t seem to help it. And when he did look for help with the issue, he’d found that everybody who could’ve helped was too busy immersing themselves in their own smart-goggles.

As he’d advanced in years, he’d accepted the problems— most of the people he knew dealt with them. It was seen as “just a part of life.”

Although he now found the problems it had caused him were too tough to ignore. They had put him in a position where he couldn’t afford to fail but he wasn’t able to succeed. The goggles had distracted him from his studies to the point that the career-system gave him the job of a salesman only three years prior. While it was normal for people to start their jobs at the age of thirty and to get minor positions, Michael’s parents had always been part of the hierarchy. Gaining a job was the sign of adulthood and there was nothing more disgraceful than for children of the hierarchy to stoop to the level of the lower class. Thus, after he was chosen for such menial work so late in his life, his parents had never let him live the deficit down.

He knew that tonight was his chance to prove his worth to society— a chance to prove that he was a capable individual that deserved the luxuries and leisure he’d grown up with. Somewhere out in the crowd, his parents were watching him with a steady gaze— it was his duty to make them proud.

The backstage door swung open with a sudden whir of gears and the announcer hobbled out, his rubber shoes letting out a stiff squeak against the platinum floor.

Please tell us that the voting session has come to an end! Michael thought, wincing in anticipation.

He couldn’t stand the idea of sitting in the chair any longer. He found the experience more agonizing than being starved.

Taking center stage with a graceful sweep, the old man lightly patted his fiery red wig to ensure that it was adjusted correctly. His lips stretching like an elastic band, he opened his mouth to let his voice boom throughout the room. “I’m pleased to announce that the voting session has drawn to a close! The winner is mi—”

He was interrupted when Michael shot out of his chair, his arms pumping into the air. “YES! I won!” Then, turning to the other candidates he said, “Against all odds I crushed you all!”

All of the candidates appeared both puzzled and annoyed. A couple of them were even whispering to themselves.

The announcer’s eyes squinted in disgust. “And this is a shining example of exactly what we wish you not to do, prestigious viewers in the crowd,” the old man said, letting Michael’s face turn redder than a cherry. “Please take notes. Now as I was saying… The winner is minutes away from being announced.”

The announcer hung on the letter "i" in the word minute, to make an extra dig at Michael’s mistake.

Michael had been doing his best to smile at the announcer all this time, but he couldn’t help but return the scowls that had been dished to him. Michael was sure that the announcer had purposely pronounced the word minute in such a way that would ensure a blunder.

“So, we ask that you are all able to remain patient and calm as our drones calculate the votes,” the announcer continued, clearly proud that he’d coaxed aggression out of Michael. “Within five minutes we should have our model human of the year! So get excited! We’ll try our hardest to get our results in— we apologize for the wait.” The old man once again left the podium and returned to the backstage.

Five minutes?

Angrily, Michael slid back into his chair.

I’ve had just about enough with tonight! How can anybody be expected to wait this long without the soothing comfort of their devices?

He didn’t let his anger seep through again, masking it with a smile as he waved cheerfully to the crowd.

Surprisingly, Michael found that the minutes slipped by with an ease— at least until the unnaturally beady eyes and contrasting wide grin of the announcer returned to center stage.

“We’ve finally come to a vote,” he said with a burble, his brow furrowing in discomfort. Michael caught that the announcer was in distress. “The winner of this year’s award— while I found it highly improbable— is in fact…” the man suddenly stopped and every muscle in Michael’s neck strained as he awaited the answer to the question he’d been pondering all night. Finally, the announcer cleared his throat and continued, with artificial mirth, “The winner is Michael Burrow! For his excellent performance in this year’s booming field of advertising, prime genetics, prime looks, high intelligence and, most of all, his outstanding charisma. Effective immediately, he’ll receive the grandest of our estates and will be put into a higher position of influence in the Federation.” As upbeat as the announcer tried to sound, his disdain bled through. “Congratulations Michael, you have won the crowd over!” Then, bending down to Michael’s ear, he whispered in a coarse tone, “If you botch this up, I’ll see to it that you’re relieved of your position. Furthermore, you’ll discuss the limits of this new authority in a private meeting with the Board of Initiators— don’t begin thinking that this position grants unending power, like so many others have…”

Michael’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Ecstatically, he thought, I’ve been chosen! I’ve won the award!

He would have shouted those thoughts aloud too, if it hadn’t been for the mistake he’d made when yelling earlier. There was also the inescapable doubt over whether he really won, or if he was merely trapped in a lucid dream.

It wouldn’t have been the first time, Michael thought. I remember one instance where I played on my goggles all day and confused it with real life…

Yet, when he caught the looks of despair on his competitor’s faces, it was all the proof that he needed.

All the apprehension eased from his limbs and he stood up, outstretching his arms, to embrace his victory. The only time he turned from this pose was to relish the image of his face— it was plastered every jumbotron in the auditorium. His many smiles were like candles, lighting up the entire room.

Once the clock hits midnight, this image will be planted on every screen in the Federation.

A fervent pride welled in Michael’s chest.

“Standing here tonight,” said Michael, stealing the neon microphone from the announcer in a movement that was quicker than the flick of a laser, “I realize how much hard work really pays off when you put in effort! I couldn’t have made it here without the help of… Well, myself!” he let out a quick laugh and continued, “But really… If it hadn’t been for your votes, I couldn’t have been chosen. It humbles me to know how much I’m admired!”

The crowd cheered wildly and began flooding the borders of the stage in a wild stampede. The only thing holding them back was a thin band of tech-governors.

“Why are you restraining them?” Michael asked the announcer, displaying exaggerated gestures for the crowd as if he were in a play. He was enjoying the attention more than he enjoyed using his goggles. “As the Model Human of the Year, I make the choices here… And I wish for the people to have free reign over the stage.”

The announcer stammered. He was helpless for the first time that night. Even his wig had lost its springy energy.

“Don’t resist me. This is a shining example of what not to do, prestigious viewers in the crowd,” Michael smirked as he watched the announcer squirm in an indignant scowl.

The crowd jeered and hissed, some of them managing to make their way onto the steps in an attempt to reach the announcer. Finally, the bewigged man relented.

“Fine, you can have your way!” he chuckled, raising his arms in surrender, “You can enjoy your big celebration with minimal monitoring from the tech-governors. Although, once it’s finished, you’re expected to report backstage for additional instruction and direction concerning your new situation. Don’t come any later than one a.m.”

Flicking his wrist, the announcer spouted out a few commands that made the tech-governors retreat to compartments in the ceiling.

Michael marveled at the sight. He’d never seen the robots forced into sleep-mode so abruptly before. He tried remembering the words the announcer had used.

Maybe they will be useful in the future.

“Don’t think about trying that yourself,” the announcer said. He walked briskly toward the backstage door, catching Michael’s eye as the crowd scrambled up the stage. “The access code has already been changed. So, don’t bother trying to misuse it.” He then disappeared behind the backstage door.

While those words came as a blow, Michael knew that he didn’t have time to focus on the access code. In an instant he was swept up in the vibrant screams and chants of the audience and everything else was forgotten.

“Michael! Michael!” they sang in a harmonious chorus.

He could remember, with distinct detail, enduring waves in one of his videogames. The crowd was no different. Michael went through a cycle of being smothered by the crowd’s enthralling roar and then being thrown back into the air with a powerful rush.

When the cycle finally ended, he was carried by the crowd’s firm grasp. All around, eyes peered in a strange amazement.

They make me feel like I’m something magnificent to behold, Michael thought. Not that this isn’t the case.

He’d earned his place above the rest. He was confident in that. However, he still found the way he was looked at to be strangely unnerving. It left him with an untamable feeling of discomfort.

After a while reveling in the crowd’s enfold, he was set down onto the ground, where a massive circle of people began to surround him. His eyes went blind and his went ears numb with the endless flashes of cameras and questions.

“Could you explain your road to success to us?” asked one sharply dressed lady.

“Would you like to sign a business contract with my company?” asked one man wearing an oil-smeared jacket and his hair slicked back.

“Could I have a clump of your hair?” goggled a young fan.

As much as he tried to address each person, all the words sent him spiraling and he soon found himself lost in a sea of confusion—until a voice harbored him to shore.

“Michael!” Peter cried through the thick mass of people. Michael could sense that he was strained and tired.

“Peter? Where are you?” he responded, trying to keep his anger penned. He didn’t want to make a scene in public.

As Michael weaved his way toward the voice, a hand shot out of the dense wall of people, followed by the rest of Peter’s body.

“Michael, this is really important! Something horrible is going on!”

Purple in the face, Peter was doubled over on his knees, heaving heavily in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Did you lose my smart-goggles?” Michael joked, cracking a smile.

“No, they’re right here,” said Peter, pointing to his pocket. “But that’s not important right now! There are people who are—”

“I doubt there’s anything more pressing than me getting my goggles back,” Michael laughed, holding out his hand. He ushered a nodding agreement from the crowd around him and then quickly slipped his hand into Peter’s pocket. Michael held back a sigh of relief when his hand clasped around his goggles.

“Boy did I miss you…” Michael whispered, running his fingers along the smooth metal.

“Michael, people’s lives are in jeopardy! They—”

“Can wait,” Michael finished, grinning toward the crowd. “Right now I want to take a selfie. I’ll only be able to have this crew with me once!” He then pressed a button on each side of the goggles, prompting the lenses to fold into each other. As he stretched his arm out in front of him, the screen on the lens transformed into a camera. “Everybody say— Fleas!!”

With a quick movement, Peter smacked the goggles out of Michael’s hand and onto the floor. “Get out of your head! We have bigger issues! A mob is tossing innocent candidates into the Outer! There’s only a little bit of time left, but I think you can still save them if you hurry!”

Michael heard a shrill scream break out in the distance. Peter was right— time was running short. Then he looked around himself. He found that the crowd had been reduced to expressions of shock and disgust. His goggles had been reduced to a sparking pile of glass shards and scrap metal.

Peter might have been my friend— but he’s crossed a boundary.

“I’m not going,” Michael said sternly, “If you think that you can just storm through here and interrupt our fun, you’re mistaken!”

“I’m sorry…” said Peter, his eyes turning blotchy, “But these people… They’re going to die! Help me help them... Please!”

“I’m—I’m sure that they’re getting what they deserved,” said Michael coldly, “If they aren’t strong enough to fight for their own lives— to make their own way out— then what role do they have in the Federation? If they’re taking a trip to the Outer, then I’m sure that they earned it. Let’s not extend the ordeal… Now leave me alone and let me enjoy the rest of my night without interruptions.”

“But we can’t just… After all we’ve done for each other, you’re just going to leave me— leave them? I thought we had an agreement— a plan!”

“That was before I realized that I didn’t need you. You were just using me— holding me back. All it took was a slight disagreement and you tried robbing me of my property,” said Michael. Peter looked like he’d been slapped in the face— no physical fight could have hurt him more than this. “Look around me! I have more help than I could ever ask for. Any agreement we had is dead. Now, get out.”

Peter shook his head, shooting Michael a look of pure hatred. Then, Peter trudged through the web of people and toward the victims that awaited his help. Michael didn’t take his eyes off Peter until the tip of Peter’s head disappeared.

Chapter 3

The world entered midnight and Michael paraded proudly with his easygoing gaze fixed jovially on his new throng of fans. Although, hard as Michael might have found it to believe, there was a set of eyes that stared out into the masses with an opposite emotion— fury. They belonged to a girl at the age of thirteen. Her name was Sarah. Like two small wooden saucers, her almond brown eyes gazed at the image of this man on a screen. Leaving a splash of luminescent light across her face, the screen burned a potent message into Sarah’s mind— the New Year had come.

As she kept her focus fixed on the screen, she remained as unmoving and stiff as a door. Even the long brown hair that rolled down her back didn’t waver. Her face wore a straight expression that matched the rest of her tense body.

Despite her wish to be otherwise, she was far from the ceremony— both in mind and body. In contrast to the grandeur of the festival, she lay covered under her dingy sheets in an otherwise bare, slouching mattress. The mattress had an odd bowlike shape and a yellowing color. On some sleepless nights, Sarah would drowsily confuse it with an oversized banana.

The rest of the room was only more depressing. In blatant disrepair, the walls and ceiling were caked in a grimy layer of filth. There was a faint remnant of what the walls had once been— a flowery shade of pink— but grime had overrun it. They were chipped and cracked, the peeled layers making it so thin that it would’ve only taken the severing of a small sliver to be able to see through to the other side of it. Contained within the wall’s sad confines was a square of empty space. That is, it was empty aside from the bed the girl lay in, a small dresser that suffered the same fate as the walls and the screen the girl was staring at.

Despite the appearance of seclusion, she wasn’t alone in the room. In front of her was a woman— while Sarah had a hard time calling the creature that— perched on an iron stool. Although Sarah’s dismal situation was depressing, she would’ve been better off alone than with the raven of a companion seated at the end of her bed. Even the floorboards trembled as their hate’s power flowed into the room.

Having a high stature, the ravenous woman glowered down at Sarah. They stared at one another, both of their faces overflowing with malice for the other. Their locked gaze was a twisted version of one shared between two lovers. The woman’s stony expression was mirrored so deeply by Sarah that it became hard to distinguish the two of them. It was as if there were an invisible funhouse mirror between the two and they were merely warped reflections of the other.

The lady to whom Sarah owed much spite was known as Mrs. Giber. In Sarah’s eyes, everything about the woman screamed fatal. It was almost impossible not to wince when staring at her hideous snaggletooth grin and her deformed knobby nose. It was the nose that especially unnerved Sarah. Its shadow always curved crookedly into the stony glint made by Mrs. Giber’s penetrating eyes. Those eyes had a testing squint to them. For Mrs. Giber to prove her superiority, they almost seemed to taunt Sarah. Sarah would’ve pinched the eyes fully shut too, if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Giber already having a wretched pinched figure. It looked like it was made of a barbed wire that would pierce Sarah’s skin, if she were unfortunate enough to brush up against it. Mrs. Giber’s hair wasn’t any more appealing to look at, propped up by pins and needles into a wobbly bun that resembled a mound of rock and mud.

“Sarah Screw,” she said in a sickly sweet voice, “Your behavior has become extremely concerning to us. We didn’t want to keep you in our Serenity Center as long as we have, but you’ve given us no choice.”

Sarah didn’t offer a response. However, Mrs. Giber only grew more imposing at the sight of this, showing off her yellow teeth. Sarah wasn’t sure If the teeth were trying to taunt her, or if they were innocently greeting their brethren— Sarah’s yellow bed.

Her question was answered when Mrs. Giber opened her mouth wider to reveal her malignant tongue. “Would you like to tell me why we’ve kept you in here so long? Or do you need a reminder?”

Unwavering, Sarah sneered.

Mrs. Giber appeared oblivious and plodded forward, with pleasure filling the corners of her mouth. “In the past few months, you’ve broken every rule that we uphold. You might think us to be fools, but we know how hard it is to forget the Code of Morals we recite each morning.

“I’ve told you multiple times, but you still won’t respect my words. You will not be allowed to participate with the rest of the orphanage when you act out like this. We’ll be willing to bring you back into our happy little community, only when you start to show that you’ve had a change of heart. Is it really this hard to apologize for your blatant disrespect and wrongdoing?”

While Sarah was guilty of disrespect, she’d never resorted to wrongdoing. Though blame was often placed upon her, rarely did she have anything to do with the constant troublemaking that ensued throughout the orphanage. This is why Sarah had to restrain herself from another outburst.

“Why can’t you take example from our new Model Human of the Year?” Mrs. Giber asked, making a quick gesture toward the screen thin screen suspended from the ceiling. “Surely you remember that breaking the Code of Morals is how your parents were thrown into the Outer?”

Sarah let her face contort into a knot. Exactly a year ago her parents disappeared and nobody was sure what had become of them. There was a time when the Federation claimed that they’d found them. Since Sarah had never been given the chance to see them, she questioned the legitimacy of these claims.

Her parents had supposedly been interrogated by the Federation. Afterwards, the Federation claimed that her parents were guilty of crimes of, “severe enormity.” This all eventually led to her parents being thrown into the Outer— an event that nobody but the Board of Initiators witnessed. When questioned for details, all they’d disclose was that her parents’ crimes were too ghastly to speak of. Sarah had a hard time believing this— she knew that her parents weren’t bad people. There must’ve been more to their disappearance than what was supplied.

Being reminded of her parents was a constant sting to Sarah. She felt that when people mentioned them, it was only to jibe at her. However, no matter how much people deprecated the memory of Sarah’s parents, there was more to their disappearance than anybody would admit— she was certain of it. Her one comfort was a confidence that they were still in the Outer, finding a way to survive. Of their many traits, which she remembered with affection, resourcefulness was the most prominent.

Perhaps it was this specific draw of the Outer that gave leeway to Sarah’s constant disobedience.

If my parents are in the Outer, Sarah thought, then why should I care if the Federation threatens to place me in the same wilderness?

“Sarah?” Mrs. Giber frowned after watching the girl’s lips purse and her muscles clench. Sarah’s gaze had moved to the screen and hadn’t wavered since. “I— I’m sorry that I reminded you of your— Look, I know that today marks a year from the day that your parents were… Never mind, there’s no reason to focus on the past... The point is, you don’t have to share the same fate as so many others. I’m here to help you. We hate to see people corrupted by tragedy so young. You have much potential to offer the Federation…”

Sarah finally burst. “I don’t need to conform to the rules of you monsters!” she screamed. “You think that you can just come and— and tell me what to do!?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I think. I have the laws of the Federation to back me on that presumption.”

“I’m done with your fake smiles and calm tones! My parents were thrown into the Outer! You want to know why I’m so angry? It’s because of people like you!”

Mrs. Giber paused for a moment. “Sarah, just look at yourself. You’re a mess. We’re not monsters sweetie, but as for those that break rules, for the sake of their own anger? They’re true monsters. We— I— don’t want to see you turn into one. I know you think that your experience is different from everybody else’s, but remember eight out of ten children lose at least parent to the Outer. Do you think that your behavior is helping anybody else who is grieving over loss?”

Sarah’s face was red and her hands were balled into a fist.

What does this lady know about loss!? Sarah thought. She’s one of the most respected caretakers in the orphanage!

With a shriek, she leaped at Mrs. Giber. At that moment, any sense of sanity had been replaced by a venomous drive. All that mattered to her now was venting her aggression.

Mrs. Giber dived out of the way, tumbling onto the filthy floor. With a groan of disgust, she let out a shrill screech of her own. “Tech-governor! I need a tech-governor! Orphan One-One-Three-Nine is out of control!” After running towards the door, she turned towards Sarah, who had the scowl of a hungry lion on her face. “Because of this new outbreak of yours, you’re going to have to pay the consequences by staying in this room for much longer. Enjoy the emptiness... I hope you’ll find satisfaction in the path you’ve chosen.”

As Mrs. Giber left the room with her stool hanging against her side, Sarah thought that she could hear the lady snickering to herself. A tech-governor entered in sequence, but Sarah couldn’t help but smile. While she had led Mrs. Giber to believe otherwise, there was something else in her room besides the bed, the dresser and the large screen.

When the tech-governor had entered the room to monitor Sarah’s behavior, it droned on in an endless ramble about the Federation— but it only took moments before it was lying motionless on the floor like a rock. Sarah had found a way to deactivate it through a hidden switch lodged inside one of its arms.

Sarah climbed out of under her covers and onto the floor. The shag carpet, crusty and brittle, made a dull crack under her weight. She’d grown used to the sound, but she now feared that it would somehow reawaken the sleeping bot.

She brought her hand under the bed, outstretching it as if it were an iron pole. Smiling when she gripped what she was looking for, she peeked her head under and pulled the object towards herself.

The object that came out of under the bed was a small cube, about the size of a shoebox. She set the box in the center of the floor. Despite it being empty, the floor provided little space for the cube. However, that thought was put to rest quicker than the tech-governor had been when she bent down and started feeling around the cube.

“There has to be an opening her somewhere!” she whispered to herself.

She’d never seen a box like this anywhere else. On its sides was a glistening, ghostly white light that burned her eyes and on its edges was a flowing neon green glow that shifted shades the more she viewed it. At one moment the neon glow was such a light green that it almost looked yellow and at the next, it was such a dark green that it was almost black. The corners of the box were the most intriguing of all, because each one was cut so that there was a triangular slant. Here, the pale light from the sides and the green light from the edges slurred. They formed into a spiraling yellow design that pulsated and moved with Sarah’s heartbeat.

Sarah opened her dresser and studied a note that had come with the box. In spite of the hundreds of times that she’d read it, she inspected it once more to see if there were any clues as to how she would get it open. As she did, her mind cycled through the history of the box. It had arrived just a week ago and the events surrounding its arrival remained both strange and mysterious to her.

After waking from a nightmare one night, she found herself unable to fall back asleep. As on most nights that she had a nightmare, her mind played tricks on her by making a fragment of a noise sound as loud as a clap of thunder. Despite this, she actually caught something creeping in the night that was more than a tired hallucination. At hearing the crunch of something walking across her carpet, she screamed. She watched a blinding flash spark in front of her, followed by an earsplitting bang and crash. She stumbled around, trying to see who or what it was, but the spark of light had happened so suddenly that it left her momentarily blinded. When she regained her eyesight, the box was on her bedside, along with a note. The very note that she now held.

On it were written these words: Tell nobody of this package. Don’t open it until the New Year.

She had her fingers run down it and her hands feel into the rough grooves made by the inky stroke of a—

Aren’t they called pens? Sarah asked herself.

The note wasn’t signed in her name, but that didn’t make a difference in Sarah’s eyes. When she looked at it, she saw it as hers. There was an internal connection that she’d developed with it. The note could have come from anybody— maybe even somebody who was looking out for her.

She savored the mildew smell the paper gave off and the strangely comforting crumple it made whenever she moved it in her hands. Notes were rare treasures to come by and were usually kept behind glass display cases and in expansive storage vaults of the Federation’s museums.

Still, the paper wasn’t what held most prominence to her. It was the message that captivated her imagination. Her mind ricocheted from dozens of questions.

Why can it only be opened after the New Year? Why was it sent to me? What if the box was sent by my parents? she wondered, retreading questions that relentlessly plowed through her mind throughout the day. I need to know what’s inside.

Once she collided with the blunt force of reality, she landed in another thought that she couldn’t let go of.

Am I actually meant to have the box? If I hadn’t let out a scream in the middle of the night, things could’ve played out much differently.

Whether she was meant to have it or not, the box was stuck with her— that fact couldn’t be denied. There had to have been a reason behind it and she was determined to find out what.

“I’m not going to give up trying to open it until daylight!” she declared with a determined grin. At these words, she forgot the meeting with Mrs. Giber. All that mattered now was gaining hold over the contents of the box.

After half an hour of grunting, shoving and pulling, she finally relented with a defeated look.

Raising her hands in defeat, Sarah said, “I’m done.”

She angrily gave the box a firm kick and stormed towards her bed. However, before she made it to her banana of a mattress, Sarah heard a quiet swooshing sound rush past her ears. With a quick jerk, she turned to find the box open, with its loose lid revealing a small sphere inside.

What is that? she wondered. Scooping up the ball, she rolled it around in her hands. From its smooth metallic surface and cold feel against her skin, she could tell that it was metal— but what kind?

The material appeared strikingly familiar, though foreign at the same time.

“Is that all that was in the box?” she asked herself.

She bent down to check again, but found it completely empty. It made her wonder why it had been packaged in such a large and secure box. She couldn’t see how the small metal ball could be that important.

Sarah turned back to the sphere and started fiddling with it again. She tried pressing her fingers harder along the sides of the ball, to look for a button— when it suddenly shifted shape.

Sarah’s almond eyes grew so wide that they nearly rolled out of her head and onto the floor. She knew exactly what this material was.

“Mutometallum,” she whispered.

Chapter 4

“Are you ready yet?” a lumbering man asked gruffly. He was stuffed in a stiff leather suit and his face was concealed by a heavy metal helmet and a pair of smart-goggles.

Because it was late into the night, the hall that he stood in was dimly lit. His voice echoed until it melted away into the hall’s darkness and its simulated sound of chirping crickets.

Michael nodded his head in response.

His reception party— which was a blast— had ended hours ago. Since then, he’d been thrust into an ordeal so exhausting that he was now resting to catch his breath. The many chaperones he’d gone through, who explained the new changes that would be taking place, dragged him around as if he were an animal on a leash. He was still trying to catch up with everything that was going on and his gnawing need for sleep wasn’t helping matters. His tiredness could be observed from the thick circles around his eyes, all the way down to the heavy pounding that surrounded his footsteps.

He was near the end of his tour, facing the door to his new estate— “The Model’s Manor.” It was built into a slick curved shape and the entrance was a thing of architectural prowess. Atop it was a twisted arch, made of a pearly metal. Its design had a simplistic beauty to it— one that provoked jealousy toward all who viewed it. Everybody in the Federation craved an apartment as luxurious as this one. If Michael hadn’t been struggling to stay awake, this new estate would’ve dominated his thoughts.

“Good,” the man said, giving a thick nod in return for Michael’s. He swiped his hand over the door’s scanner, prompting it to open with a smooth swoosh. “As with all doors, the touch-pad will respond to fingerprints of all the citizens in the Federation— but this one has been programmed to activate exclusively for fingerprints of the Board of Initiators. Thankfully, we’ve already linked yours into the database, so you shouldn’t have any problems.”

When they entered the room, it sparked with a sudden fluorescent light. Michael smiled as he looked from wall to wall and found them covered in screens that displayed brilliant designs. Some of the designs were abstract, while others appeared to pop out into space, tempting Michael to grasp out and touch them. Measuring twenty feet in height, these screens stretched from the floor to the ceiling. They were placed everywhere, so that there was one at every turn. It all left Michael awestruck. The sight planted him there in a mesmerized state.

“This is all mine?” he asked, breaking free of the trance and taking a cushy seat in the center of the room. “I couldn’t ask for more!”

“This isn’t all— it also has the most up-to-date model of our tech-governors. It will serve as a guide to you from now on and we expect you to begin training with it tomorrow.”

A hole opened in the ceiling and a robot descended.

Michael was left speechless. It was all becoming too overwhelming.

“Here’s a replacement pair of goggles for your last ones, by the way,” the man said with a grunt, tossing it into Michael’s hands. “Our bots detected your friend breaking your last one.”

Michael stroked the goggles meticulously, each brush against the metal giving him a rush of relief. He’d been fretting over whether he’d be able to sleep without them.

“You’re welcome,” the man said snidely as he walked out the door. “Oh and there’s one other thing I need to make you aware of, before I leave you alone for the night. The walls in this building are constructed out of a rare synthetic material— mutometallum. Or— as you might know it by— ‘trans-metal.’”

“What!? I thought that was just a rumor! How could you possibly have gathered the funds to build a whole house out of it!?” Michael waited for an answer, but received nothing in response. “So… Does this mean that I can reprogram the structure of my home to my liking? I have total control over it now?”

“No!” the man chastised, arching his eyebrows— one of the few things on his body that weren’t covered. He started to look almost wary of Michael’s presence. “What makes you think that you can have free reign over something like that?! You should feel lucky that you’re even allowed to live here! Mutometallum is highly expensive to use and almost impossible to program— the very pinnacle of both multiferroic technologies and molecular nanotechnologies. Not to mention, it’s a dangerous weapon that people like you shouldn’t even know about.”

“But, suppose that I dented a wall, or lost my goggles under them…” Michael said, in a bumbling attempt to be sly. “Where would the controls be during such emergencies?”

“They wouldn’t be there. And, if you were only going to use it to fix dents, then there’s good reason for that! This is why we keep the controls in a secure building of the Federation— not that you would understand the controls, even if you had access to them.”

Under the man’s harsh reprimands, Michael felt like a worthless animal. His eyes turned to his pocket where his goggles were kept and he struggled to keep from putting them on his face.

“Hello? You still there!?” the man barked.

Michael snapped himself back into the present. “Sorry— I’m just tired is all. Thanks for the tour and everything— but I need to head to bed…”

Without looking up, Michael gave a pitiful excuse of a wave goodbye. He didn’t move from his spot until the door had shut and the room quieted. Suddenly, the urge to sleep took him like a heavy gust of wind.

“What an exhausting night,” he yawned, stumbling toward his bedroom while he played a game on his goggles. For the first time that night, he felt a steady sense of rest and contentment.

After he settled under his sheets and shut off his goggles, memories of his outburst with Peter came flooding back.

Was what I did to the other candidates wrong?

He shuddered at the thought that he might have been the cause of their deaths.

No, of course not! I had nothing to do with what happened to them!

He couldn’t push the horrid visions away— people screaming as they were led to the chute that marked the final barrier between the Federation and the Outer. Their stomach’s lurching as they fell down an endless hole, looking like lifeless dolls. Though, unlike a doll, Michael knew that at the end of their fall would be a slow and painful death.

What would have happened if I’d lost and was put in their place instead?

He winced. Sitting up and pulling off his sheets in a cold sweat, he called his tech-governor over.

Maybe talking to it will comfort me.

The warm beat of the robot’s blades entered his room. “What might I help you with?” the robot’s mechanical voice sputtered.

Michael phrased a question in hopes of a soothing answer.

“When I hear about the Outer and the terrifying things surrounding it, the world seems so frail and dangerous. I can’t help but wonder— what do you think the meaning of everything is—the meaning of the universe?”

The machine sat for a moment. “Buffering… Buffering…” it spouted. “Pulling up results for, meaning of the universe…”

For a short moment, Michael was shocked.

Does it really have the answer?

“Results found,” the robot continued. “Universe, noun. Definition one—the totality of known or supposed objects and phenomena throughout space— the cosmos— macrocosm. Definition two— the whole—.”

“That’s enough,” Michael said, crestfallen. Of course there wasn’t an answer to his question. He felt ridiculous to have even asked.

What am I so upset about? he wondered. After all, I’ve just achieved my life goal! The whole world envies me. They admire my very essence!

Still, as he pulled himself under his covers and let himself lapse into a well-earned drowse, he couldn’t help but feel a sinking weight fall onto his chest. He frantically shoved his pair of goggles into his face and succumbed to the game displayed on the screen. He felt the pain numb with a relative ease and he slipped into a steady slumber.

Chapter 5

Sarah slept soundly under her covers, with the ball of trans-metal tucked between her fingers. At least, it had been a ball. Now it was a messy metallic strand, with a cluster of her fingerprints imbedded into it.

As the hours passed, the metal began to merge with her wrist— coiling around it like a spring. As if it were a living creature, it progressed from there. As Sarah’s breathing increased, the metal moved wildly. Then it started stirring when Sarah stirred. Eventually, it began taking on shadowy, abstract forms. It was as if it were embodying her very dreams.

However, Sarah and the trans-metal weren’t the only things moving in the night.

As she ruffled her covers, languidly trying to find a more comfortable positon to rest in, creeping creaks resounded. After she’d settled back into her dreams, the presence of the creeping thing was compromised by the faint glow that still emanated from Sarah’s box. The glow revealed a thin shadow— the width of a piece of paper— across the wall. Wiry as it was, a stooping figure could be made out of it, crawling along the floor.

From its rigid movements, it was clear that it was preparing for the moment to strike. It prowled swiftly and quietly, without the slightest crunch of the carpet.

Slyly and steadily it neared Sarah with each step it took. It didn’t stop moving. Its shadow melded with the mustard mattress, before clambering over it. The figure’s fingers crawled along Sarah’s metal covered wrist. With a darting dip, it gripped the metal. A moan filled the air as it clawed at the metal’s edge. The shadow’s arm thickened as its grip was lost and was thrust into the air. It had tried to yank the metal from the girl’s arm but it hadn’t budged.

“Great,” it hissed.

With a moan, Sarah opened her eyes. The moment she saw the figure, she let out a yelp. In the dark room, she wasn’t able to make out much but she could tell that it was a tall man.

Sarah’s shout probably would have been loud enough to alert the rest of the orphanage, but he’d placed his hand over her mouth before its sound could spread.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, trying to calm her. “I’m the one who sent you your package.”

“You’re not one of my parents,” Sarah snapped, once he pulled his hand.

He’s undoubtedly a lingerer, she thought.

Her instincts told her to yell again and alert the others of this man’s presence. She needed to fight back. Lingerers were people who were meant to be thrown in the Outer, but managed to escape. Many of them lurked in the lower, abandoned floors of the Hub’s tower that had once housed many resources and homes. They only ever surfaced to steal food and clothes. Sarah pitied most of them, but they were notorious for their nefarious character.

Although, there was something about the man and the box he’d sent that was intriguing. In addition, she felt that her situation couldn’t get much worse than it already was.

“What are you doing in my room?” Sarah asked.

“My name is Johnathan. There’s a lot that I have to tell you— but I can’t do it here. I was sent here by your parents. If you want to keep one of the last memories of your parents, you’ll need to get out of here. Which means you’ll have to follow me.”

Sarah closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. “Are you saying that I have to leave the orphanage… right now!?”

Sarah thought, I’ve been secluded in this room for too long…

“Look kid, you aren’t dreaming and this isn’t time for games. You can read yourself a bedtime story and play ring around the rosy later. I’ll explain everything, best as I can, but you have to trust me. I was sent here on a special—umm— on a special errand to see if you were able to use that— that— that magic piece of metal. Now, people—.”

“I can understand what you’re saying just fine,” Sarah said, cutting him off.

“Kid, I don’t have much time—.”

“My name is Sarah.”

“Whatever… The point is, people are looking for me and that piece of metal. Since you’re so smart, I’m sure you already know all about it… It’s the synthetic element, mutometallum. It shifts to electrical charges.”

“Yes I know— it’s similar to muscle tissue. But, why does it respond to my hands? After all— it’s only supposed to respond to electric charges.”

“Are you going let me talk, or not? I was just getting to that part. You’re special kid— err— Sarah. That thing you have on your arm doesn’t respond to just anybody. And, you can control it with a lot more than your body… It listens to the commands of your brain. We’ve been searching long and hard for somebody who can control it. The reason that we waited so long to test you is because everybody will want to control your ability. The New Year was the ideal day to do it, because the Board of Initiators are busy dealing with their new puppet— the Model Human of the year. Their security will be diverted— and I need it that way, so I can safely take you to my base.”

“Wait— you’re going to take me where?!”

“My base! You want out of here, right? I’m sure that you hate being stuck in here… Well, I’m giving you a way out. Haven’t you ever wanted a chance to go into the Outer?”

“No! Why would I ever— wait— you live in the Outer?!”

“Where else? I can’t live here, that’s for sure! These days, hiding in the Hub and living like a lingerer isn’t an option— unless you want to end up dead.”

“Your base is in the Outer?!”

“Well— the base we’ll be going to isn’t in the Outer. It’s hidden within the Hub.”

“I thought you said that you’d wind up dead if you lived like a lingerer!”

The sound of a distant door screeching open crept into the room— followed by the familiar clicking of heels.

“Mrs. Giber,” Sarah said in a hush.

Johnathan’s face paled. “You need to lower your voice,” he whispered. “There isn’t that much time left for me to explain. You can either come with me, or stay here. But, you better make your choice quick.”

Sarah bit her lip.

“Where is the way out?” she asked, after a brief pause.

Johnathan smirked. “Just follow me.”

After they’d hastily scurried across the room and into a corner, he pointed toward a small opening in the ceiling. “It’s up there,” he told her.

“But that’s the tech-governor shaft! We can’t go in there!” Sarah said.

“We can and we will.”

Johnathan grabbed Sarah by her legs and lifted her up toward the ceiling. Sarah’s fingers grazed the edge of the opening, just barely catching hold of it.

Johnathan whispered up to her, “Good, you’re almost there. Now just pull yourself up.” Then, he scurried back to the center of the room to retrieve the glowing box.

Just as he bent over to scoop it up, there was a loud rap at the door.

“Sarah, are you up?” Mrs. Giber’s voice cooed in an artificial sweetness. “Could you open this door for me, dear? It seems to be locked.”

Sarah’s palms began to sweat. With her grip on the ceiling opening slickening, she felt a sense of hopelessness take anchor. Everything leading up to this point had been the things of dreams, but this current weakness tried to yank her back to reality.

While she wasn’t aware of it, there was a drive within herself that refused to accept this. Wrapping tighter around her arm, the band of metal extended and stretched. It disappeared far into the inky vent, before pulling her up with it. Dark as the vent was, she felt that she was moving into something far brighter than what she was leaving behind.

“I’m up,” she mouthed down to Johnathan, who was now standing just below her.

Johnathan tossed the box up into the air and Sarah barely caught it. Once again, the metal around her wrist assisted her. The act felt strange— the motion had happened out of reflex. It was as if the metal were acting as another limb.

Just as Sarah caught the box, Mrs. Giber used her fingerprints to unlock the door. “I’m using the emergency override now,” she said with a croak, as the door creaked in unison. “I know that you’re in here. If you plan on being relieved of this room, you need to start following orders like a decent human being.”

Johnathan leaped into the air, hardly nearing the opening. Luckily, Sarah had outstretched her arms. He pulled himself up, his hands locked with hers. He couldn’t have afforded to be any later either— as his dangling legs disappeared into the dark shaft, Mrs. Giber entered the room. For a moment, the gnarly-toothed woman was oblivious to what was transpiring. However, when that she heard the click of the shaft’s cover latching back into place, she recognized that something was awry. In spite of her shouts, she was too late— Sarah and Johnathan were far from her reach.

“It’s time for some explanations,” Sarah declared, once the pair had made it far enough from the bedroom— or the prison, as Sarah would have called it. “I have a long list of questions, but I’m going to start off with my first one— why is this trans-metal so important to you?”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t know. It’s the most valuable material out there— especially when you consider capabilities. As the saying goes, ‘it’s rarer than trees are.’ There are people who will pay an arm and a leg for just a gram of it. So, it’s no surprise that there’s a lot of people who are desperate to get their hands on the two pounds of it that I stole— the exact two pounds that you have wrapped around your arm.”

“You stole it?” Sarah scowled, stopping in the middle of the shaft.

“How else would I get it? Not that it’s a grand accomplishment or anything. It’s hardly an impressive steal when you compare it to the amount that we need. Now, here’s the more important question— when did you start caring about rules? Last time I checked, you’re one of the biggest rule-breakers in the orphanage.”

“You know about my history in the orphanage?”

“Nothing is sacred— anything can be found if you search for it. Back at our base in the Outer, we took a peek at your personal record… It isn’t pretty,” said Johnathan, making Sarah’s face go red. “Don’t worry about that, though. The people I work for aren’t looking for pretty— they’re looking for results. You’re a special kid, Sarah.” Johnathan opened a door in the rectangular tunnel they were crawling down. “I have all of the checkpoints throughout these tunnels hacked— I can control them at will through a remote. I know that these tunnels are usually used to store tech-governors and distribute oxygen— but, I’ve found a way to make these ventilation shafts suitable for us as well.” As they continued to crawl down the tunnel, he slipped a flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. “It’s about time that we had some light down here.”

Sarah could fully read Johnathan’s features now. He had bronze skin and large grey eyes that matched the size of his bulbous nose. A forest of matted black hair covered his forehead from sight. Though, from the faint wrinkles around his eyes and face, he looked to be in his middle to early thirties.

“Don’t you have smart-goggles?” she asked, pointing towards his flashlight. “They’d probably do a better job of guiding you.”

“They don’t let you keep your goggles if you’re sent where I come from,” he said, with a hint of bitterness in his words. “The only pairs that I’ve found are the ones that are dumped in your trash-heap.”

“What trash-heap?”

“There’s a trash-heap all around the base of the Hub… It’s in what you call the Outer and in what I call home. It’s actually funny when you think about it— the only place that I can find valuable things is in your waste…”

“And you still think that the Outer is better than being a lingerer?”

“Definitely. I don’t need those dumb frames. They make you stupid. And this light-stick I found can be pretty useful when you’re trying to prowl around at night without being detected. Tech-governors are programmed to recognize smart-goggles.”

Sarah smirked. She recognized the flashlight as the blinding flare she’d seen on the night Johnathan had left the box in her room.

With the box and its contents in her mind again, she tried steering the conversation back to it.

“So, you’ve explained to me why the trans-metal is valuable to you…. But, what’s so special about being able to control it? And how does it work? Most importantly— how did you know that I would be able to control it?”

Johnathan stopped maneuvering through the shaft and looked Sarah straight in the eye. “Do you have a shortage of questions? Or, is this how it’s going to be for the next week?”

“I’d take your offense seriously if it wasn’t in the form of a question…”

“Touché. You must think you’re so clever. If I didn’t know any better, I’d make you find the answers for yourself because of that attitude. But I do know better. I can’t afford to wait that long, so I’ll just get to the answers."

“We’ve needed somebody like you for years now. Somebody who could control the metal, without having to fight against the vast limitations of computers. This concept originated two centuries ago. There was a mass of people who went through experiments, in an attempt to control trans-metal. This was at the peak of the medical community’s strength, when they were still trying to discover new ways to lengthen lifespans. Trans-metal— or mutometallum— was believed to be their answer. Thousands were tested but only a few dozen people survived. Those who did were merely outliers…

“The plan was to have the outliers pass on their genetics to future generations. They were supposed to use their abilities to change the world. Mutometallum has more potential than you can imagine. Though, the experiments were stripping the world of its resources and action was finally taken against their plans. Those special people dissipated and for a while, they were believed to have died out before the Federation’s formation. Although, that rumor isn’t entirely true, because your mother is a descendent of them— you are as well. With your abilities, you’ll be able to help us overthrow the Federation and undo the doom that they’ve brought upon themselves. They’re going to fall to pieces because of the mistakes they’ve made– you can fix them.”

“I was always told that the Federation’s current state is a result of rioters ruining their resource storages in the lower levels.”

“The Federation is clouded in lies and they aren’t willing to take responsibility for their actions. The Federation’s lack of resources wasn’t caused by riots— it was caused by their negligence. Even if the Federation says something is true, it doesn’t mean they’re being honest. I’m sure that they told you your parents are still alive, too…”

“Does that mean—are you saying– are you saying my parents are dead?!” she said, choking back tears.

“They suffered a fate that everybody pities… But, they died fighting for the right purpose. They were secretly members of the Rebirth while they lived in the Federation. They knew they were special and that it was their duty to serve the greater good.”

“If that’s true, then why didn’t my parents ever tell me about it?!”

“They never told you about it, because you were too young— it would’ve made it harder to keep their dual-identities a secret if you knew. This proved to be the right discernment, because when the Federation found out about their dual-loyalties, they were exterminated. If your parents had told you, you might have met the same fate as them…”

“Why didn’t you save them?!”

“We couldn’t do anything about it— the distance from the Federation to the Outer is too far and tortuous. But hey— that’s just how things are these days. That’s why we need to strike back against the Federation— it’s all of their fault.”

“Did they kill your parents too?”

“No— I was born in the Outer,” Johnathan said hastily. As he said this, Sarah’s face sunk. Catching his mistake, he grimaced.

To try and lighten the mood, Johnathan tried changing the subject.

“Do you think that they might still be alive?” Sarah asked, once Johnathan’s attempt at a conversation had been reduced to senseless rambling. “Did you actually see them go?”

Johnathan’s face went blank. “I never saw them go. There might be the slightest chance they survived. Although, the Rebirth has declared them terminated.”

Sarah looked distraught.

"Speaking of the Rebirth… Do you want me to tell you more about them?”

Sarah didn’t say a word. The heavy news of her parents’ death hung around her mouth like a padlock. It had sealed a new notion in her mind.

With my parents gone, there isn’t a chance at returning to my old way of life.

In that instance, nothing else mattered to her.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Johnathan said. “The Rebirth is a resistance force in the Outer that has been against the Federation for years. We were built upon the concept that we could bring a new age of peace and freedom into the world. We live off scraps and struggle to maintain our base— but it’s all for the cause of renewal. We named ourselves after the Renaissance— an event of renewal that took place in the Ice Age, I believe— because that’s what we hope to bring into the Federation.

“I’m one of the Rebirth’s top-ranking members— I’ve helped build them to the level that they are. They might not still be standing if it weren’t for me. That’s why they sent me here to retrieve you and the mutometallum. You have no idea how hard it is to steal a chunk of that stuff…”

“You’re one of their top members and you still needed me to help pull you into the shaft?” Sarah asked, half out of bitterness and half out of jest.

“Any important questions?” Johnathan asked, sourly.

Sarah paused for a moment, before bringing up the question that had been tugging at her mind the strongest. “If you knew that I would be able to use the metal, why didn’t you come to me in person?”

“I didn’t know. Since your father’s genetics didn’t have the special ability I was looking for, it was a coin-toss over whether you’d be able to use it. I had to let you discover the ability on your own.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow in skepticism, causing Johnathan to turn away.

“I knew that you would keep it hidden from the authorities,” Johnathan said, stumbling over a few words, “since you’re smart enough to know that the orphanage would confiscate it if you didn’t. If it didn’t work for you, I was going to take the package back tonight. Most of the orphanage thinks you’re insane so I figured that, at that point, nobody would believe you if you told them about it. Overall, I thought I was taking the least amount of chances in my approach. Up until now, the Rebirth has thought it wasn’t worth risking one of their best men on this mission. Blowing my cover was the last thing I wanted to do.”

Sarah yawned, “You talk too much…”

“That’s what you get, in return for asking so many questions,” Johnathan said. “It sounds like it’s time for me to take you to my base for some sleep.”

He started crawling into the tunnel, moving with the stealth of a cat. Sarah tried following his example.

We can’t risk alerting sleeping tech-governors of our presence.

However, the small space made it hard for her to breathe and her limbs suffered in consequence. They thumped against the metal, creating a vicious cycle. Her thumps were followed by breathless gasps, which were followed by more thumps and more breathless gasps. She’d hoped that breathing would grow easier as she continued, but she eventually felt that the amount of space and oxygen was only shrinking. Occasionally, she’d even hear the whirring of tech-governors, which made the experience exponentially worse. The shaft turned so claustrophobic, that she felt as if she’d been stuffed into a keyhole-sized space.

They didn’t stop until they reached a spot where a small hole— just wide enough for Johnathan to pass through— was carved out into the wall. They crawled through it. The hollow space within was shaped into a humble cube— about twenty-five feet in length and width.

“This is your base?” Sarah said, unimpressed.

“Yep,” grunted Johnathan, pulling up a worn sleeping bag. “Only the finest around!”

Despite herself, Sarah managed a slight laugh and pulled herself into her own sleeping bag. “Such a bright idea… Because, everybody imbeds their safe haven in the base of their enemy…”

“I believe it’s called, ‘hiding in plain sight’.”

“It’s called, ‘you need a better plan’…” Sarah said, as she closed her eyes and let out another yawn. “The only reason we made it here is because of sheer luck… You don’t realize how hard it is to escape out of under Mrs. Giber’s crooked nose.”

“Don’t get too comfortable. She’s not going to be clueless for too long. And she’s only the least of our worries. Tomorrow, there are going to be scouts all over— and they’ll not only be looking for trans-metal, but they’ll be looking for you as well. The Board of Initiators hate to have disorder, so they’ll make sure to keep you as target number one— and they’ll use their Model Human as a public distraction, like they always do.”

“Ah yes— the Model Human. That’s always a nice thought to have in my head before going to bed for the night. That clown’s grin is terrifying…”

“For the night?! It’s morning now. Also— I won’t be letting you get him out of your head any time soon. We have a two places that we need to loot trans-metal from— and one of them involves the Model Human.”

Sarah groaned and covered her head with her covers. Her mind started to surrender to a deep slumber.

“His grin is still terrifying,” she muttered.

Chapter 6

In the morning, Michael awoke to his tech-governor’s blaring. As if he were a ball of yarn, the robot rolled him out of bed. Bringing his hands to his ears, he had his tech-governor scramble to his closet and began to stuff him into his clothes. While the tech-governor carried him out of his bedroom door, Michael shoved his goggles on and started filtering through it.

“How many people have been talking about me?” Michael asked the goggles, grinning. “Let me guess— they’re in love with my smile!”

“As many people as you have neurons in your brain disagree with your smile…” the computer warbled.

“And, is that a lot, or a little?”

“Whichever answer is most pleasing to hear, I will give you.”

He froze for a moment, realizing that he was sandwiched in between two unfavorable answers— he’d never been placed in one by his goggles before.

“Just show me all of the positive feedback,” he said, grinning again, while his tech-governor brushed his teeth. “And then delete all of the others— I’m an Initiator now, so that shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

The rest of his day continued with the same rapid and automated pace.

After the tech-governor made him swallow his breakfast pill down with a chug of water, he darted out his door for the daily exercise route assigned for him. Given aid by his tech-governor, he completed his daily portion of strength training and mental exercises. At each error the tech-governor would correct him through a slight shock followed by a long-winded monologue. It was in portions of the day like these that Michael felt the urge to use his goggles tug on him the most, but— as usual— he managed to resist it.

However, the rest of the day was a more pleasing procession and was completely apart from his average routine. During his meeting with the Board of Initiators, he enjoyed a satisfying exchange where he was given a new list of duties that replaced his old ones— speaking engagements, parades, picture shoots and commercial filming. He felt his heart throb in shock during some of it. Though, he managed to swallow the feelings up in an ecstatic excitement.

His meeting with the Board of Initiators wasn’t the only enormous change from usual protocol. He was also bombarded by people who were eager to speak with him. For a stretch of several hours, he hardly had a chance to check the time, before being whisked away into another interview. At first the flood of praises was unsettling, but it soon became clear to him what it meant.

This is a small sample of how much I’m adored by others, Michael thought to himself. My role in society has been expanded— I’m now far beyond anybody else.

This brought a sort of aura around him that added an extra boost in each stride. A surge of purpose filled every part of his body, leaving him overflowing. For the past few years, a feeling of inferiority had hung over him like a wolf hangs over its prey. It hunted him through his dreams, chasing Michael away into the safety of his goggles. The feeling had now dissipated. New confidence launched Michael into a series of energized conversations. His goggles began buzzing like a whizzing bee— everybody sent him messages, in the hope of befriending him.

Yet, everybody was a slight exaggeration of Michael’s mind— there were plenty of people who were displeased with his new position. A few of them came out and openly harassed him, calling him a puppet. Thankfully, Michael found support from tech-governors who took care of the rebels. Michael didn’t take the attacks to personally, either— most of these people were lingerers, a class of citizens which Michael looked down upon with extreme loathing.

The feeling was mutual. It was because of Michael’s detest that the lingerers revolted in the first place.

After this strenuous day, Michael earned permission from his tech-governor to visit his parents’ house. He wanted to go and celebrate his new victory. It had been weeks since he’d last seen his parents in person. He was overwhelmed with pride when he began wondering what their response might be.

While the lights within the building dimmed at the pace of a snail trying to scale a wall, Michael arrived at his parent’s apartment— room two-three-six-nine. There were tens of thousands of higher-class apartments like these on every floor of the Hub’s higher levels. Though, amidst those facts, Michael couldn’t help but feel that this apartment had a specific personality to it.

“Nothing like home!” he exhaled, standing at the doorstep.

The door’s familiar dents— gifted by Michael’s younger counterpart— and its bitter smell of old copper took him back in time, to the days of his youth. Michael had lived in this apartment for his entire childhood and his parents had lived here even longer.

The place was a part of his identity— bound around his heart like a bow. Michael had missed it dearly and regretted ever having to part with it. Although, there was only so much room available in the buildings that encased civilized society, so people– or units, as the tech-governors referred to them— were often assigned to apartments far from their families, in order to account for the limited housing in the dense towers.

Michael swiped his hand across the door’s lock-pad, which consequently let out a low beep.

“Locked again…” he huffed. Normally, doors within the Federation were left open to public— it was considered rude and selfish to isolate others from your home. Although, lately there had been an increase in lingerers and people all over had begun to hide themselves away in their homes.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until their tech-governor identifies me,” Michael said.

After what felt like eons of standing on the doorstep, he heard a muffled voice yell through the thick copper door and he watched it open to a warmly lit hall.

“Congratulations on your promotion sir,” a tech-governor said.

Michael ignored it.

I’d expected my parents to greet me— not a useless piece of metal.

“Where are my parents?” Michael asked. “I thought that you and my tech-governor arranged dinner.”

“Right this way sir,” it said, turning to guide him down the hall.

As the robot hovered into the dining room, Michael found his parents seated at the table with their goggles strapped on—eating without him.

For a moment, Michael was upset. Although, he smothered these feelings— it was considered inappropriate to lash out your anger towards others.

They probably just forgot that I was visiting, Michael told himself. They wouldn’t have started eating if they’d known I was coming over. I’m too important to dismiss.

Trying his best to make light of the scenario, he took an empty seat at the table. He flashed a mischievous grin and waited to see if anybody would notice him.

They’ll probably be shocked when they see me.

At least, that was what he’d thought, until his parents’ tech-governor came over to serve him his plate—an unruly mixture of fruits and vegetables. As he started to pick at his food, he realized that they couldn’t have possibly forgotten him. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have prepared him a plate. For most people, dinner was the only meal of the day that didn’t consist of pills. Despite this, only the rich could afford authentic vegetation on a daily basis. His parents wouldn’t have spent money on expensive food and then forget about him.

“Hello son,” his mom nodded, with her goggles still strapped on. She didn’t even bother to turn and face him.

Michael’s father did even less to acknowledge his presence. Taking a mouthful of greens, he managed a stifled explanation for the scene. “We figured that, since you were so busy, you wouldn’t mind if we ate without you.”

Michael was confused, but nodded his head in a faux look of understanding.

Are they even going to congratulate me for my success? he wondered angrily.

“So… Anything new?” Michael asked, trying to steer the conversation.

Transfixed to their devices, the pair said nothing.

Michael was about to mutter, “This conversation is hopeless…” but stopped himself.

Michael slipped on his own goggles and played to its lenses’ luminous glow.

If I’m going to spend the evening here, he thought, I might as well get some enjoyment out of it.

His father let out a grunt. “Good job on the award last night by the way. We heard that you won.” He said stiffly.

Michael was appalled.

Heard I won? He thought. They were supposed to have seen me win! They needed to see me, in my full glory!

“You weren’t there?” Michael asked.

“We were busy…” his mother said monotonously, her long black hair swaying as she swerved her head to the game on her goggles.

“Nothing could possibly be more important than me!” Michael scowled. “What were you doing?”

Catching Michael’s defiant tone, his father snapped his head around to Michael and frowned. With his goggles on, he utterly missed eye-contact with his son. Though, this didn’t make the disapproval on his face any less potent. “We could ask you the same thing!”

“Well of course you could, because you didn’t even make an effort to watch me last night! I’ve worked really hard all my life to get to where I am! I spent nearly three decades in your apartment, trying to figure out what I would do with my life— and you don’t even come to watch me and appreciate my extreme efforts?!”

“We didn’t need to watch you! Your face is plastered in the corner of every goggle lens, every TV screen and on every tech-governor! And, besides that, we heard that you made a complete fool of yourself last night by degrading an announcer— in front of a whole crowd! Do you know that’s a crime? I would’ve been embarrassed to make an appearance…”

His mother added, “Not to mention, news has come out that you had a fallout with Peter! I thought you were friends and breaking a friendship is unhealthy and frivolous! Not only that, but it’s a public embarrassment! Peter is such a nice young man— you should be looking up to his example, rather than detonating your relationship over nothing! If I had a son like him, I’d be proud— you should feel lucky that the supercomputer ever matched you two as friends.”

Michael was fuming. “Don’t you even care about what happened last night? I have more friends than I can count now! You should be proud of me! Not to mention, you probably would have made the same mistakes if your friend went ahead and broke your goggles!”

Michael’s dad spat out his food, which fell to his plate in clumps. “That’s ridiculous! Peter would never just—”

“Sir,” their tech-governor interrupted, “Spitting out your dinner is an enormous waste of food and is an action that can be punished severely if continued.”

“Sorry, I saw it in a movie once,” Michael’s father replied, hanging his head sullenly, like a chastised dog. This only lasted for a moment and, once it passed, he instantly resumed his authoritative composure. “Now, as I was saying… Peter would never take your goggles— he’d know that taking them off of somebody is an extensive crime— we need our goggles to focus.”

“Peter’s character is averse to such unruly behavior,” Michael’s mother said, nodding in agreement. “You should stop lying to us and admit how much you failed!!”

“I’m going to report Peter to the authorities!” Michael said. “And then you’ll see! I’m going to make the whole world know that he broke my goggles! And then you’ll realize how wrong you are for getting angry about miniscule things— I’m going to prove that I’m the bigger person, by showing you both just how big I am!”

He didn’t really care about Peter anymore though—he was done with him. His mind was far from his meal or parents at that point.

A glaring question confronted him with a brutal force.

Do my relationships mean anything anymore?

He was the model human of the year now— but he suddenly felt like none of that mattered.

The thought seemed to come out of nowhere and it nearly knocked him out of his seat. Yet, he couldn’t ignore it—it was too strong. He couldn’t think of a time where a relationship of his didn’t prove to be shallow in the end.

They always turn out to be made of pure motives.

His hands began to fidget like a whirring blade and Michael placed his goggles back over his eyes to calm them.

At least my troubles can’t reach me in the shell of my game, he thought coolly.

Smiling, Michael felt something strike his mind.

I have fans by the thousands! What am I thinking? he wondered, Of course I’m not alone.

This severed the bind around his heart, as if it were a bow. With that in mind, he was able to play with his goggles and eat his meal contently, until his tech-governor came and dismissed him.

Chapter 7

“It’s time to wake up,” Johnathan said, shaking Sarah awake.

She moaned and tried stretching to rouse herself. Her whole body felt groggy and sore.

“How long did I sleep?” she asked. It was impossible to tell what time it was in the darkness of the metal room.

“About four hours.” Johnathan said, taking a quick look at a rusted watch he had around his wrist. Then, he waddled over to his backpack for food.

“Only four hours!? No wonder I still feel exhausted!”

“Get used to it princess,” he said chewing on a bar of mush. “I only slept for three…” After rifling through his bag for a minute, he tossed a bar over to Sarah. “Here, try some real food— that should wake you up. We found some remnants from trash heaps and abandoned factories in the Outer. It beats those nasty pills that you guys have to swallow. If you’re still hungry, don’t worry about getting another one. I have three bags full of them— enough to last us two weeks.”

Taking the bar from Johnathan, Sarah said, “Thanks.” It only took one bite for her to gobble the whole bar. Food was becoming a scarcity for the lower classes of the Federation and Sarah was famished.

“You enjoy it, huh? Too bad that just scratches the surface of the quality of food you could be eating. Just another one of my reasons to despise the Federation.” Johnathan leaned back against the wall and let out a deep sigh. “Well, enough with the chit-chat. We have work to do. Once you’re done eating, I’ll need to update you on my plan.”

Once Sarah had finished eating, Johnathan said, “So, the Rebirth needs us to collect as much of this mutometallum stuff as we can get our hands on. If we succeed, we’ll ultimately use the supplies to storm the Federation and unlock a secret algorithm they’ve been hiding from us— it could potentially regenerate the Earth. I know that this is all a lot to take in at one time— but the world’s atmosphere is devastated. The Federation’s process of drawing energy from the stratosphere has been ruined by the Sun’s increasing size.

“The algorithm was supposed to be utilized to save the Earth years ago— that was why the original Federation was founded. They planned to use their power to regenerate the Earth… But, we’ve had many different revolutions within the Tower Federation since then and every new form it takes on gets overrun by greedy dictators.”

“Are you sure that’s all true? I hadn’t even heard that there was more than one form of the Federation. Not to mention, the Federation claims that they live by the same rules they did at their foundation.”

Johnathan’s face turned red as he slapped his thighs and let out a long wheeze. “They feed you guys that garbage!? Even worse— you guys believe it!? I’m not surprised about you, kid— you don’t know any better. But, those who do know better should be aware that a new law is being passed every month. At this point, they’re completely contradicting the first laws they put into place.”

“Well, at least they haven’t gotten rid of them.”

“Sure— but they don’t hold the same weight as they once did. They might as well have been tossed away! This just shows their strategy— to keep the people blind, so they can strike them down easier.”

Sarah’s eyes closed as she soaked the somber truth in. All of her life she’d been being lied to— kept in the dark. What hurt the most was that her own parents had never even told her about this.

They didn’t even leave me a clue, she thought. I really have been living with monsters— and there was nobody to tell me that when I needed to hear it most...

It was in that moment that her heart drove toward a powerful decision. She was determined to give the Federation a taste of what they’d dished out to her.

“So… Where exactly do I fit into the plan?” she asked, gritting her teeth.

“You’ll be in charge of— well, you’ll basically be doing all of the main physical work. You’re going to be the one moving the trans-metal and ultimately breaking us out of this towering dump. Meanwhile, I’ll be giving you your instructions.”

“Sounds good… Now, where are we going to get the trans-metal from?”

Johnathan smiled proudly and rubbed his palms together, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that question. That’s where their unintelligent ‘Model Human’ comes in… I managed to gain the information that the house he’s going to be living in— ‘Model Manor’—has walls built of the stuff. Trans-metal is extremely lightweight, so a whole house full of it won’t be as heavy to carry as you might expect…. There’s only going to be around ten tons of it— hardly anything when compared to the hundred and fifty tons it would weigh if built out of any other material…” Johnathan stopped to let Sarah’s mouth gape. “I know… It’s still a ridiculous amount of weight. That’s why we’re going to start you off with baby steps. You’ll need to master controlling the mutometallum first, before you can be trusted to move a ten tons of it. Which is why I’m going to spend the next few weeks training you in stealth and the trans-metal.”

Sarah smiled. “When do we start?”

“Oh, so now you want to get to work. You kids are ridiculous— you’re much harder to train than anybody else…”

“Wait… You’ve trained other kids? How many kids are there in the Outer?”

“I haven’t trained kids to use mutometallum before. But yes, I was once a trainer and there are plenty of kids back at the Rebirth who I’ve trained. Although, I’ve had experience with mutometallum— I worked with your mom, which is why this shouldn’t be too tough.”

“You knew my mom?”

“Yes… Very well, actually. But, we should be focusing on training,” Johnathan said, tossing a container of water to Sarah. “The water might not be that clean and you’re probably not used to it being so filthy. But you’ll need lots of water if you want to strengthen your abilities and this is all I have.”

Sarah nodded her head.

“Now, try your best not to get killed!” Johnathan yelled. A split second later, a giant metal tile was flying at Sarah’s face. With a scream, she winced and closed her eyes. When she reopened them, the metal plate was hovering in front of her face— latched onto a wiry strip of trans-metal that was protruding from Sarah’s wrist. The trans-metal resembled the tubular trunk of an elephant.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Sarah scowled at Johnathan, heaving heavily.

Johnathan simply laughed. “Sorry Sarah, but this is only the first of many times that I’m doing that. You were the one who asked me to train you— this is what you get.”

“As if I had an option…” she said, with a grumble.

“So, did you see how your reflexes kicked in? That shows you’re beginning to strengthen your mind’s link with the metal.”

“It’s kind of hard to see when your eyes are closed. But, I guess that’s what happens when you hurl a giant metal plate toward me! What were you thinking!? Did you want me to have a black eye and a mouth full of missing teeth on my first day!?”

Johnathan chuckled. “Even if you did, it’s called trial and error.”

“Yeah— go ahead and smile about this… After all, you’re the one who has to worry about losing their smile from flying chunks of metal!”

For the next few hours, the two continued on like this, with Johnathan pushing Sarah through seemingly endless rounds of drills. Most were like the first one, being both terrifying and exhilarating. However, as time passed, her adrenaline lowered and her instincts acclimated to Johnathan’s rapid movements.

The training session progressed further and Johnathan’s shock-based exercises were halted in favor of less dangerous ones. Whenever Johnathan called for it, Sarah would make the trans-metal band around her wrist stretch out into simple shapes. When she was struggling, his advice could be disturbingly accurate. From his descriptions, it was almost as if he’d controlled the trans-metal himself.

After years of training my mother, he must’ve become a sort of expert.

It was these calmer exercises that she liked the most. Even so, she also found them to be more strenuous, since it was difficult for her to control the metal.

By afternoon, Sarah was exhausted and surrounded by puddles of sweat and muddy water.

“Yeesh… You sure made a mess!” Johnathan said, handing Sarah a towel. “Now, mop it up…” After watching her in silence, for about five minutes, Johnathan couldn’t stand to keep his mouth shut any longer. “So, did you have fun?” Johnathan asked, gulping down his water.

“It depends… Does your definition of fun have something to do with sweating your guts out?”

“Just like your mother…” Johnathan said under his breath, shaking his head.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing— I was just saying that… We’re going to be doing this training for the next two weeks, until we can head out for our first mission. Every day we’ll alternate our training— tomorrow we’ll head out to train in the field of stealth.”

“Oh joy…”

“Hey, at least you’re a natural. I’ve seen plenty of kids go through my stellar training regimen for the first time and have to give up!”

“Really?”

“Of course! Although, I’ve also seen people go through my stellar training regimen and blow your performance away. So, don’t get too cocky.”

“When I asked, ‘really’, I was referring to your claim of having a stellar training regimen… After seeing how you train firsthand, I think you’re the one who’s acting too cocky.”

“You can keep trying to offend me like that— but, if you really think I’m a bad trainer, then we’re both in a bad place,” Johnathan said, deflecting Sarah’s jibe with ease. As lighthearted as his retort was, it had a tinge of grimness to it. It dashed all life out of their conversation.

Sarah found more sleep that night, but she also found herself to be more restless. She tossed and turned to vicious nightmares about the Federation, their experiments and— worst of all— what they’d done to her parents. She couldn’t be sure if these nightmares were brought from the stress everything, or only from the uncomforting sleep situation she had on the floor. Though, whatever it was from, it left her exhausted when she awoke the next day.

“Rise and shine kid!” Johnathan said, with his booming voice. “The artificial daylight is burning and we need to get moving! Hop to it!”

Johnathan slapped his hands together for extra measure.

“Did anybody ever tell you that you have a loud voice?” Sarah yawned in annoyance.

“Nope, never even crossed my mind!” Johnathan said, his voice sounding loud as a blow horn.

For the rest of the day, the two crawled through the shaft, avoiding tech-governors as they went. Johnathan’s never-ending clamor of words poured out a long list of the rules Sarah had to conform to. This list included no wandering, no dawdling, no stomping and— most of all— no talking.

I wonder how he keeps that last rule… Sarah wondered to herself as Johnathan continued going on.

Once they’d covered the rules, they went exploring. At least, it was exploring in Sarah’s eyes. In spite of Johnathan’s claim that he was new to this portion of the Hub, he moved through the shaft with a clear sense of ease.

For the most part, the journey through the shaft was largely uneventful. Sarah didn’t find anything that sparked her interest— aside from Johnathan’s lack of speech. To Sarah’s relief and bemusement, they managed to utterly avoid the tech-governors. That is, until they neared the end of their journey.

As they were headed back to their base, the floor ahead of them slid open and gave away. Following Johnathan and his rules, Sarah scrambled to avoid tech-governors. Yet, as she and Johnathan hurdled the opening, Sarah saw something on the tech-governor caught her eye— it was an enormous screen with a face on it. For once, it bore the face of somebody other than the Model Human— it was herself. Atop the photo were written these words— “Report to the authorities if found.”

They’re looking hard for me, she thought with amazement. It’s a rare occasion when somebody is prominent enough to appear on a screen in the Federation. They must think I’m a threat of some kind… Do they suspect that I can control the mutometallum?

“Come on kid! We need to get moving!” Johnathan hissed, as he saw Sarah peer down into the opening. “What did I say about no dawdling?”

Sarah nodded her head and followed Johnathan. Even so, nothing— not even the call of Johnathan— could take away the image welded into her foresight. It was the image of being captured by the tech-governors. It was the image of being dragged away, back to the dreaded orphanage. She shivered at the thought.

After yesterday, I’m not going back there, she thought. Not again! No! Never again!

For the next few days, Sarah speedily progressed in her training with Johnathan. Although, it was a struggle. She constantly found herself exhausted, to the point that she could hardly keep herself from toppling over at the end of the day. She struggled to understand why using the metal wrapped around her arm could exhaust her so much, but Johnathan explained it clearly and willingly.

“When you use your mind to control the metal, your brain is spending its energy as it strains to connect with the extension,” he told her while glugging a bottle of water. He did this much to Sarah’s irritation. Sarah sometimes wondered if he drank while talking solely to annoy her— the dingy water didn’t taste good enough to legitimately enjoy. “I know that the concept might seem a bit complicated, but that’s nothing compared to how much more complex it becomes. Your body is not only sapping energy as it makes the connection— it’s also exerting the body’s energy as it transfers it into the metal. Don’t worry though— the connection will strengthen over time. It’s like learning how to walk. Once you start controlling a large enough mass of trans-metal, it begins to sustain itself with minimal energy. Soon, you’ll be able to manipulate over a ton of it!”

The training slogged on and Sarah became stronger and smarter. She became used to waking up sore in the morning. She became used to collapsing into a deep sleep by the end of the day. In fact, the routine became comforting to her once she realized that it gave her clout over her nightmares.

By the end of the week, Sarah was ready to take on a new challenge.

I might be inexperienced— but what does that matter? she thought.

The new confidence growing inside of her, made her feel like she could take on an army. It came to a point where she questioned if she still needed Johnathan’s help. She felt ready to go out on her own.

“Wake up, princess,” Sarah snickered as she roused Johnathan late one night. It was finally the day that she was going out in to the field. The day that she would prove herself.

Johnathan snorted awake. “I sleep a little late for just one night and all of the sudden I’m the slacker…”

“Hey, you said it, not me…” Sarah said, recreating Johnathan’s mischievous smirk.

“Alright kid, I take it back, ok? Gee, you can hold a grudge…” said Johnathan, rolling his eyes. “Now, to the first order of business. Tonight, we’re headed to one of the Federation’s most tight security bases. It basically contains the Federation’s entire supply of mutometallum, as well as the main controls for all of the mutometallum in the Federation—including the metal contained in the Model’s Manor. Don’t worry about having to do too much work. We’re just going to get as much metal as we can and then get out— there’s not as much metal in there as you’d think and this is only a trial. They only store one eighth of their small supply in there. You’d be surprised to know that the Federation’s main supply of Mutometallum is contained in the ‘Model’s Manor’— only one and a quarter tons are kept in their base compared to the ten tons built into the house. The Hub must think that nobody would suspect that they’d store their main supply in an average apartment. Although, I know better”

Sarah shook her head, shocked by the pure magnitude of what she’d be dealing with. “Remind me… how much metal do we plan on taking from the Model’s Manor?”

“About one ton. We need to be able to bring it back to base so we can implement our plan of attack. The metal will give the Rebirth a massive leverage, since we’ll be the only ones who are able to use it.”

Sarah nodded her head and bit her lip.

What is the Rebirth planning to do with this metal? Sarah wondered, teetering between two beliefs. If it’s a weapon in the hands of the Federation, then it will still be a dangerous weapon in the hands of the Rebirth. Although, what am I concerned about? Johnathan has taken me from the orphanage and given me a new purpose—hope. The Rebirth is all he stands for. I’ve probably merely become untrusting of other people in my time in the orphanage.

“Alright… Where is this base at again?” Sarah finally asked.

Chapter 8

Michael stood up from his chair and waved to a crowd of roaring fans. He was being carried by tech-governors down to the center of the Hub, where the main A.I— which controlled all the workings of the Federation— was kept in an enormous dome. As usual, Michael shot his familiar wave and smile to the crowd, setting them in a fervor.

However, this charade fell like a castle of cards when a spectator crawled out of the crowd. It was a man with bruises and burn-marks covering his arms and hands. He was dressed in torn rags, which were made filthy by an oily gunk. His face and hair had suffered the same fate as his rags and a few teeth were missing from his mouth.

“Excuse me,” he warbled, shaking violently as he held out his hand. “Would you be willing to give me some spare points? I don’t need many— just enough to pay for a single meal.”

Michael raised an eyebrow and motioned for his robots to keep moving. His father had taught him how to deal with begging lingerers— it was best to avoid them at all costs.

“If you even merely make eye-contact with one of them, they’ll persist,” he told Michael once, during a hearty dinner. “And if you happen to slip up and give to one, you’ll soon find a mob of lingerers chasing after you. The first chance you have, you’re supposed to report the lingerer. Never, under any circumstance, aid them.”

“Tech-governor,” Michael called out, taking one last look at the beggar. “Are there any spare tech-governors around? We have a lingerer.”

The man shrieked instantly. “No!” he cried. “You— you need to help me! I thought you were a better man than this! You said that your interests were for that of the common people!” He looked into Michael’s eyes in desperation, his eyes bloodshot and wild.

“They are,” Michael declared proudly as a couple of tech-governors arrived and took hold of the lingerer.

The man thrashed about, but he no longer had the vigor within him to go on. He collapsed in defeat.

Michael was lowered down, after giving the order to his tech-governors. With his feet planted on the ground, firmly as a tree, he walked over to the man with confidence in his stride. Glowering over him with an air of superiority, Michael said, “Here’s the thing… You aren’t the ‘common people’. You’re a result of the worst aspects of humanity— a lazy blob that did nothing in its life, besides shoving pills down his throat. You expect me to ‘save you’ although, you were supposed to have saved yourself before you ever reached this point. I’ve met people like you before— people who I’ve even been willing to waste my time on. You’re all the same— obsolete and a waste of space.”

“You don’t understand…” the man moaned.

“Take him away…” Michael said, flicking his wrist. “I have better things to be doing.”

The moment the words left Michael’s lips, his tech-governors came. Using their robotic arms, they tore Michael away from the lingerer and the crowded mass of the city.

He was willing to stop at nothing to head to the main A.I and ask it a question— it was where people were supposed to go when they had a problem that they needed to solve. However, it was very limited because the A.I that the public had access to was programmed to withhold certain answers. Unless you happened to possess a high enough position in the Federation, you couldn’t even go near the Initiator’s version of the A.I— it was said to be hidden away somewhere, behind locked doors within the dome.

Its limitations were why people rarely visited the public A.I center. The other reason was that most of the people who went to the A.I were thrown into the Outer.

No doubt because they were too old and too poor to even get themselves goggles, Michael thought. Uselessness always comes with age and poverty…

Whenever people did visit the enormous A.I center, it was usually to gather for an event. However, Michael was still going to the empty dome. While most of the questions could be answered by asking tech-governors, Michael felt that he had a question that nothing had the answer to. He was willing to tap any resource to find it.

Arriving at the center dome of the Federation, Michael studied his surroundings. It had been a while since he’d last been there. Maybe it was from seldom seeing it, or maybe it was from his bad memory— but, every time he saw the room, it was as if he was seeing it for the first time. He always noticed something different about it.

It was a giant dome, made of a turquoise glass. The whole space was enormous, being miles wide in every direction. The only parts of the dome that weren’t made of glass were the parts that hugged the tower walls. From nearly every angle, he could the sky outside of the Federation and peer into the Outer.

He was accustomed to always viewing hives of activity, bustling about. As he looked into the wasteland, all he saw were mounds of abandoned trash heaps and blackened dust. Just as Michael began to face the gravity of the world behind the glass, a cluster of holographic computers sprouted from behind him and out of the chrome floor. They distracted him with their flashing colors, which changed at each passing moment. There were at least a hundred of them, but most were empty. However, out of all of them, Michael looked for a specific computer.

As he looked, he passed an enormous fountain. A golden statue of a book, full of the Federation’s rules, rotated on its pinnacle. From atop the book, a tower of water shot into the air, landing in fountain with a graceful, musical splash.

Even as he absorbed the beauty of the room, he found that there was no enjoyment that came with it. The eventful confrontation with the beggar had put him in a daze. His mind had trouble accepting that people could end up like that lingerer— rejected and obsolete.

I know that I was doing the right thing… But why did it feel so wrong?

He looked back to the golden book.

I must just be disturbed because of the increased number of lingerers. Their very existence is worrisome… Everybody in the Federation is supposed to receive the same pay and treatment— with the minor exception of political authorities, like myself. If everybody’s job has equal value, then the blame for the growing punishment of the Outer must be coming from an external force… Something corrupt and conniving, hiding behind the stage.

“Maybe the lingerers are sabotaging things, thus creating more of themselves,” Michael hissed. “They’ve been ruining everything from the start… They must have a secret plan. They’re trying to override order in the Federation, because they don’t want to have to work hard. Meanwhile, people like myself have to fight tirelessly, to rid ourselves of them.”

Michael began to worry if the common people were starting to become corrupt. The very thought disgusted him, but logic told him that it was true. Lingerers were everywhere. There wasn’t a single place in the Federation where he could feel assured that he wouldn’t run into one.

There was one thing that relieved Michael. He knew that, at the end of the day, he and the Board of Initiators would still be working late into the night, to protect the people of the Federation.

Michael heaved a sigh of fulfillment and had his tech-governors to lower him to the ground. He waltzed to the grandest looking computer in the room and started to type out his question. It felt strange not to relay his command through voice, but he was still pleased with the sensation. He didn’t want his question to be heard aloud.

His fingers pressed against the soft touchscreen keys, while they let out a pleasing note at each click. Michael knew that, if the keys had known his dour question, their melody would have turned to a curdled clack.

“What is the ultimate goal of the Federation?” Michael mouthed silently, as the words appeared on the sleek, holographic computer monitor.

If Michael had been asked that question by somebody, he would’ve pretended that he knew the answer— in fact, he had done that exact thing the other day, during a conference. However, he hadn’t a clue to what the real answer was.

During his pursuit for the title, “Model Human of the Year”, he’d ignored where everything would be going and whom he’d be serving. After Peter left the scene, he became clueless. He had everything he could ever want at his fingertips— but none of it mattered. There was a nightmare that he couldn’t get rid of— one where he was groping through a labyrinth that had his face plastered upon every wall No matter what he did in the labyrinth, he couldn’t get out. Nothing he did would wipe the vision from his mind. He felt that he needed the answer to what the Federation stood for.

Maybe once I know what they stand for, I’ll be given something to stand for. I might find a solution to all of my problems, he thought. I might be able to sleep calmly again.

The answer that came up left Michael crestfallen.

“No results found,” the computer said, monotonously.

Michael was about to groan in disappointment, but he felt something lightly press against his shoulder and pull him away from his work.

“I see that you’re busy,” said a familiar voice— Peter.

Michael jumped.

“What are you doing here?” Michael asked, jerking his head around.

“I— I followed you here,” Peter said, his voice turning distant. “I saw what you were typing… Very interesting. It’s a shame that they don’t hold the answers.”

“Why would you follow me?! Why do you even care about what I was typing?”

“I don’t know… I’m not even sure why you care about what you were typing. After all— it’s been made very clear that nobody in this building cares about what created the Outer. Why are you so interested in it, all of the sudden?”

“I’m not interested in the world outside! I’m interested in the world inside— that’s all that the question concerned.”

“But not the place that you’re asking it… You could’ve asked that question anywhere you wanted. But, you decided to come here, of all places— the only place where you can view the Outer. I know you Michael— you get obsessed with things and surround yourself with them. You find a place where you push everything else away, so that you can focus on whatever petty thing that you think is important.”

“If you’re still angry about what I did to you, get over it! All I did was take advantage of a great opportunity!”

“You didn’t take advantage of a great opportunity! You took advantage of me, so that you could pursue your own selfish desires! You might think that you outsmarted me— that you proved me wrong, but all you did was show how ignorant you are.”

“Show my ignorance?! You’re the ignorant one! You’ve been chasing an idle dream— to save your father— for years! It’s never going to happen. When I neglected our plans, I was only neglecting your frivolous goals. If your father was so great, he would’ve come back to you by now! If any of the people being thrown in the Outer were worth saving, people would’ve cared enough to lead a revolt! You need to wake up to the reality of things— you need to realize that your dreams can never be achieved. You’re chasing after clouds!”

Peter’s face scrunched into a scowl.

“Maybe chasing after clouds is a mistake… But, what are you supposed to do when the clouds start chasing after you, blotting out any light that you had in your life? You should look around yourself for once. The world isn’t what it’s made out to be. Just take a look out these windows, for once! Does the dark and cloudy world look right to you? How about the floods of lingerers, which permeate the confines of this building? The closed off lower levels? The limitations on energy and oxygen usage? Nothing is as it seems to be, Michael! Clouds are everywhere and you’re never going to see anything clearly until you get above them! As I said before— chasing after those clouds might be a mistake. But guess what? That’s all that some of us will ever have!”

“Go away Peter,” Michael said, putting his face in his hands. “We’ve gone through this battle before. This should’ve ended the night that I was turned Human of the Year. I want you to never speak to me again. You can come back when you’ve taken hold of your all-important clouds— once you’ve passed them and reached Mount Olympus, tell Zeus that I said hello…”

Peter turned and walked away, his anger going with him.

“I will,” Peter said.

Chapter 9

Sarah brushed her long hair from her face, as it blew toward her in a gust. It was dusky and uncomfortable where she sat— she was perched on a thick iron bar, built into a ceiling. Above her was a lofty vent that chilled her body and gave her goosebumps— or, perhaps the goosebumps were from the excitement tingling through her body. Ahead of her, Johnathan was stealthily moving ahead, making sure that his every step was taken with a fluid and precise grace.

After two weeks of training, the pair were finally in the trans-metal warehouse. It had been a long journey from their hovel to the warehouse’s ceiling. From her height, Sarah could see why Johnathan was hesitant in coming— the place was infested with security. Every few minutes, a tech-governor would whiz past her face. The blades were close— so close that she thought she could feel their cold edges brush against her skin. After that, piercing terrors came to her mind at the sight of these mechanical nightmares.

What if I fail the mission? Sarah wondered. Will I ever be able to prove myself worthy of my parent’s cause— the one that they were willing to die for?

As she lamented on this grim potential, she slipped on the iron bar and teetered on the edge. Johnathan turned around to offer her a hand, but she refused.

I don’t need any help.

With a swift swing of her hand, she forced her body back into balance and regained her firm grip.

For the next half hour, they progressed in the same manner, the only difference being Sarah’s whittling patience with the stakeout. To make the dull procession worse, she had no clear direction of where they were going— Johnathan hadn’t given her a map of the area.

“So much for all of that training,” she grumbled to herself.

Johnathan came to a halt. For a moment, she thought that he was angry at what she said. Though, when he swiveled to face her, she saw his look of exaltation. The message translated before Johnathan spoke a word— the wait was over.

“Come on,” Johnathan mouthed, beckoning excitedly.

While she carefully moved towards him, he tossed a length of rope to the ground. Then, he tied the opposite end to the iron bar.

“Alright,” he whispered. “We’re going to head down on this rope to retrieve the trans-metal.”

“We’re going to what?” Sarah asked, so shocked that even the dust jumped from her face in surprise.

I haven’t been trained to climb down rope! Sarah thought. I haven’t even been made aware that this was part of the plan!

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

Johnathan snickered. “This is the very reason I tend not to give away my plans. When I give out the tough parts, nobody wants to attempt them. But, don’t worry— I’m sure you’ll be fine! If our mission is successful, you won’t even need to use the rope again— you’ll be able to use the trans-metal to get us out of here. Besides— I’ve slid down rope many times and the only thing you have to worry about is looking down… Oh and there’s one other thing you’ll have to worry about— running into tech-governors. If we don’t head down now, they’ll find us and our cover will be blown.”

“Real comforting,” Sarah said, mockingly.

She stared down from her height. Because of the dimness in the room, it seemed like the distance to the ground was unfathomable.

“You expect me to climb all the way down there!?” she asked.

“Yeah… Pretty much. You remind me so much of your father. Unfortunately, this means that I have to do to you what I had to do to him…”

“What are you talki—,” Sarah, began, before her words were cut short by Johnathan, who pushed her off the bar.

She felt herself spiraling down, with her hands fumbling wildly about for something to grip onto. Her stomach sloshed into her throat and her muscles turned tight as a coil. Her every instinct was being put into action in order to prevent herself from plummeting to the ground.

When her fingers managed to wrap around the rough rope, she was relieved.

What a miracle!

After her first hand had gripped onto the rope, she found herself easily able to descend.

What was I so worried about before?

The sturdy feel of it against her hands gave her an assurance that felt worlds away from the trauma of plummeting. Though, even the rope’s sturdiness couldn’t pull the memory out of her head. She felt as if she was reliving it over and over again. Being pushed off the edge— sinking into the inky black—

How could Johnathan have turned on me so easily— without even a second thought?

“Did you enjoy your ride?” Johnathan asked, once Sarah had reached the bottom.

Sarah simply scowled in return. She was standing in a large open expanse, filled with rows of giant metal crates and forklifts. Once Johnathan had reached the bottom himself, he threw a blade into the air, severing as much of the rope as he could. When he stuffed the cut rope into his pocket, the blade clanked in the distance.

“Welcome to the warehouse and all of its dingy glory,” Johnathan said. “There were a few times where I had close calls up on the rope. I was almost caught by the tech-governor. How about you?”

“We’ll have plenty closer calls if we keep gabbing. Where are we supposed to be headed next?”

Johnathan made a mischievous smirk. “Here’s where things get real easy… Try to keep up with me if you can!”

Johnathan started sprinting down the pathway. As Sarah chased after him, she heard the beating of blades and the rush of wind follow after them. For a moment, she thought the wind to be a comforting boost in her stride. Then, she realized the dark truth.

The tech-governors must have detected us.

“Our cover is blown!” exclaimed Johnathan. “We’re just going to have to run for it, kid!”

The two ran relentlessly, with their lungs bursting for oxygen. Despite the air always feeling shallow in the Federation, Sarah now felt that it was lacking more than ever.

“Stop right now, Sarah Screw! You’re property of the orphanage,” the tech-governors spouted in a mechanical chorus, before sounding an alarm. Sarah winced at their every word— they were like knives to her ears.

“We’re almost there! We just have to make it a little further!” Johnathan said. “I remember seeing a disabled tech-governor in your room when we first met— that means you know how to shut them off, right?”

“You can’t sit trapped in a serenity center without learning a trick or two,” Sarah said.

However, she knew that she didn’t have the time to manually turn them all off. If she tried that, she’d run the risk of being captured.

After running for another minute Johnathan halted. “Over here! We’ll make quick work of them!”

Sarah was alleviated when she neared Johnathan, who was in front of a locked door, with his hand nearing the touch-pad. She lunged toward him and the tech-governors followed her. Though, if they’d been more aware of their surroundings, they might have shrunk back.

Sarah skidded toward Johnathan, just as he started giving out orders. “This is the one chance we have,” he said. “We need to make it count! I’m going to show you a picture of a fingerprint and you’re going to replicate it with your trans-metal— got it? You’re going to use it to activate the keypad and open the door. Meanwhile, I’ll disable the tech-governors. Once we’re in, we’re going to shut the tech-governors out. Got it?”

Sarah nodded.

The moment a tech-governor made the first attack, Johnathan shoved it toward the ground and pried a knife into its head where the switch was. It immediately fell down, lame and lifeless as a stuffed animal.

Despite his victory, he was crestfallen when looked out toward the hall and found more tech-governors than he could have imagined.

“It appears that the Federation cares about you a lot more than I suspected…” Johnathan said, grumbling. “There has to be at least forty tech-governors out there— probably closer to sixty. I’m going to have to show you the picture now, Sarah and hope for the best.”

Quick as a flash of light, he whipped a crumpled wad of paper out of his pocket. Catching Sarah’s inquisitive look he said, “What? You haven’t seen a picture on a piece of paper before?”

Sarah’s face turned red as Johnathan started smoothing out the wrinkled mess.

“Here— try your best to recreate this print by using the metal that’s around your wrist,” he told her. “This picture is stolen from the files of the Board of Initiators. It was pretty tough to get our hands on that, so you better be careful with it!”

Then he left her and faced the throng of tech-governors that were pouring down the warehouse. Their size had already doubled and was starting to triple. Johnathan ran towards them with a brutish force and tried his best to disable as many as he could. Although, the battle had become futile before it even started and Johnathan was like a ball of yarn being tossed about by a kitten.

In the meantime, Sarah struggled to replicate the fingerprint. Her focus was diluted by a pang in her heart. Something about the whole ordeal felt wrong— she’d never stolen before.

The Federation is a destructive force made up of monsters… But, if I break my own moral code to stop them, will I really be making a difference— or will I be making the problem worse?

Then she then reminded herself that she’d already broken her morals many times.

“Are you almost done over there!?” Johnathan grunted as he fell to the floor. “I can’t keep this up much longer!”

Sarah didn’t answer and her forehead was wetted with perspiration.

Why can’t I bring myself to do it?

“Come on kid! Are you going to do this or what?! If you don’t start now, we’re going to be turned into tech-governor meat, like your parents were!”

Sarah flinched— the words pricked her conscious.

What did my parents have to do with anything? Sarah wondered angrily.

“What makes you think that you can just talk about my parents that way!?” Sarah said, dropping the fingerprint image to the floor.

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean it that way…” said Johnathan, trying his best to juggle his attention between his conversation with Sarah, his war against the growing wall of tech-governors and his wounds. “It’s just— we won’t make it out of here alive if you don’t finish this plan of yours! Think back to the training!”

Sarah was teeming with fury— but she was willing to let that wait. Picking up the picture, she began exerting the wells of her willpower to recreate the fingerprint. Tiring as the task was, it brought a sensation of peace and calm over her. The trans-metal made her feel an assurance that reminded her of her parents. It was like a link to her past— a window to her lost loved ones.

Once the metal had shifted shape accordingly, Sarah brought it up to the fingerprint-pad. In response, the door slid open with a clean whoosh. It was simpler than she had expected.

Everything else around her was far from simple. Johnathan hobbled toward her with his clothes torn and his body in shambles. Not too far behind was a horde of tech-governors swarming toward him.

“Run Sarah!” Johnathan said. “Get the trans-metal! Don’t worry about me until you have it— you can use the trans-metal to save me!”

Sarah didn’t waste any time and retreated into the storage room.

While she stumbled through, she found it to be very stuffy and dim. There were no lamps to be found, so any hope of being able to see was gone. In spite of this, she was still able to vaguely distinguish her environment. The primary features were walls of metal crates packed along every side. They were stuffed so high and built so thick that they reached the height of the ceiling.

“How am I supposed to get these open!?” Sarah wondered to herself, as she studied them. Their number was overwhelming. Upon closer study, she was befuddled by how the packages had even been produced— there were no crevices in them, or any sign of an opening. Besides sharing a similar cubed shape, they hardly even resembled the crates in the rest of the warehouse.

She grabbed one, pulling it off the shelf and came to a revelation— they weren’t crates.

They’re blocks of trans-metal!

Sarah recognized the metal by how warm it felt against her hands and by the shock of electricity it gave her. It meshed with her arm and began stemming from there to all of the other blocks of trans-metal. The room morphed into a glob of silver. Once connecting with the blocks started to become strenuous, she rode out of the room, carried on a wave of metal.

The tech-governors were easily swallowed up by her machine. It wasn’t long before the floor, which had been littered with robots, was swept clean by a slivery blanket. The only thing left untouched was a bruised sack that resembled Johnathan. He was spared by a shimmering arm that extended out of the metal.

“Did you plan on taking them all on without me?” Sarah asked Johnathan.

“Yes,” Johnathan said, trying his best to chuckle through his battered jaw. “As you can clearly see, I had them covered. So, I was never too concerned…

“Were there any tech-governors guarding the trans-metal?”

“Not one…” said Sarah. While the words slid out, a perplexing mist came over them.

But, shouldn’t it have been guarded?

Catching Sarah’s look, Johnathan scanned the room. “We better get moving, then. I’ll give the directions out of here. This time, don’t hesitate to take my orders—we’re going to need to trust each other if we want to make it back to our base.”

Johnathan’s finger then shot out toward their first destination. Sarah and her current of metal heeded the command, screeching along the warehouse floor as it went.

“There goes my hope for subtlety…” Johnathan said. “Hopefully you’ve taken enough of the metal. If we plan on escaping the Hub within the next month, we’re going to need as much as we can get.”

A red light flashed and a dreaded whirring returned.

“To the left!” Johnathan shouted, his eyes filling with terror.

The remaining portion of the rope was illuminated in the meager red light that tech-governors gave her.

Hopefully, the trans-metal will keep us safe for long enough to escape.

“Alright kid,” Johnathan said, “I want you to use the trans-metal to throw me toward the remaining piece of rope that I left behind!”

“What!? Are you crazy?! I still need your help! I don’t remember how to get out of here!”

“You’re going to have to trust me!”

Sarah didn’t listen— she couldn’t.

New tech-governors arrived, bordering Sarah’s metal glob. Some of them were already tearing away at it. Sarah exhausted her mental capacity trying to drive them away, but her concentration was running out and a question ate at her mind.

Will I have enough metal to make it to the rope?

Johnathan’s fists clenched as he watched the tech-governors advance. “Sarah, you need to listen to me! We don’t have much time left!”

“I’m not going to throw you that high— I’m not interested in killing you!”

“If you’re not interested in killing me, then you need to do what I say— throw me to the rope!”

Sarah couldn’t bring herself to do it.

I’ve already trusted Johnathan to fend off the tech-governors and he barely survived. How am I supposed to expect him to follow through on his promise now?

It was then that she made her decision. She ignored Johnathan’s pleas and continued trying to plow through the mounds of oncoming tech-governors. At this point, the only thing keeping herself and Johnathan safe was a small island that she’d made with the metal. Under it was a swarm of the malicious robots, clambering atop a heap of broken trans-metal.

As Sarah drew nearer to the rope, her concern of not having enough metal had become more prominent.

She looked over her shoulder to see Johnathan. His usually light spirit had fled and in its place was a nervous ball of fear. Clenching his teeth and scowling in the face of potential defeat, he gave his last order. Pointing up toward the ceiling he said, “Wish yourself luck… You’re going to need it to get up there.”

Sarah’s head throbbed and her body stiffened under the growing intensity. Mustering all the strength she had left in her body, she raised the metal into the air, making a spiraling pillar. She made it link to the rope, to give her a sense of stability while she climbed. In that moment, in the darkness of the warehouse, she was able to forget the troubles of the world around her. The weights peeled off like an old skin.

I feel free as a— what are those winged creatures called again? Ah, yes— birds.

The feeling was brief. Once they’d reached the rafters, Johnathan brought back the anxiousness of the situation.

“Sarah, you need to move the trans-metal. The tech-governors are going to snap it apart!” Johnathan said, leaping from her pillar.

Sarah heard a brittle cracking below her. She felt the ground teeter. Leaping into the air, her limbs spun like the spokes of a wheel. She pulled the trans-metal along with herself as fast as she could. Just as she landed on the ground with a thud, the remaining trans-metal trailed toward her. The amount wasn’t nearly as much as it had been when she started— Johnathan would be disappointed when he found out how much was left.

“Stop lollygagging and get a move on!” Johnathan said, barreling toward the shaft in the ceiling that they’d entered through.

Sarah followed. Soon, she was alongside Johnathan. However, when she saw that his face was twisted into a knot, she wished that she’d stayed behind. This wish was sealed when he banged fruitlessly against the door to the shaft— which was now closed tight. Sarah knew that there was no chance of getting through by brute force— but Johnathan didn’t appear to have the same knowledge. He banged relentlessly for a full minute, before he subsided to the floor. His demeanor shifted and he started to look as hopeless as a rowboat caught under the current of the ocean.

“There’s no escape,” he said.

“I thought that this was our way out!” Sarah said, hurriedly.

“I did… But you wasted too much time— it closed before we were able to make it here. My controller won’t work because the Federation’s computers have put this room on complete lockdown. Now, we only have a minute left before the tech-governors come up here and tear us to shreds.”

“I thought that you had the controls to get the door open!”

“Didn’t you hear!? This room is in complete lockdown— not even a tech-governor could open this door if it was given orders to. If you had let me up here when I told you to, I might have been able to counteract it— we had a window of time. But, it’s too late now…” Johnathan pounded his fists against the door for extra measure.

“What good is sulking going to do!?” Sarah said, with annoyance. “We still have a chance at getting out of here… You have to have some sort of backup plan. You do have one, right?”

“No. How am I supposed to make a backup plan?! There’s only one way to open these doors and it’s gone! If you had just done what you were supposed to—.”

“And how am I expected to do what you say when I have no idea what your plan is!?”

“It’s called ‘faith’. You would think that it would come easy for somebody as young as you... Besides— I can’t give you every aspect of the plan, because you never know who is listening.”

Johnathan’s body slumped further down the iron rafter.

Sarah was unimpressed.

Johnathan shouldn’t just give up so easily. There has to be a way out!

Sarah searched around herself for ideas. It didn’t take long— the solution clicked into place within a second.

The answer is so simple.

The whirring of the tech-governors was everywhere. Not only was it everywhere— it was also gaining volume. In addition, their red light stained the walls. The crowding orbs, from which their light originated, looked like glinting balls of fire. They stung Sarah’s eyes. This sight gave her a fierce message— one that finds a way to infect everybody. Time was running short.

Sarah brought her hand down to the trans-metal and lifted it further toward the ceiling. Her energy was mostly drained from earlier, but she ignored this. Fighting against her senses, she pushed a metallic arm, which she’d formed, up toward the entrance to the shaft. She felt her own arms twitch and groan under the weight and a lump formed in her throat from the mental undertaking. Yet, she continued on.

Above her, cracks formed in the shaft’s door. She then watched as the cracks spread from the door and throughout her own trans-metal pillar. Sarah knew that she depended on the pillar outlasting the door— she neither had the energy to sustain the pillar, nor move it.

Johnathan had caught her plan and was doing his best to help keep the pillar steady. Small as his effort was, she appreciated it. Sarah could hardly keep her balance in the rafters, let alone hold up the giant metal pillar at the same time.

She could feel the last ounces of her strength beginning to deteriorate. The world around her was hazy and her hands were tingling. A steady numbness was taking hold of her.

Underneath her feet, a tech-governor’s whirring blades tried drilling through the rafters. Johnathan left Sarah on her own, doing his best to fight the tech-governors. His energy wasn’t much better than hers and he had a struggle just trying not to fall over as he walked. There wasn’t a chance that he would be a match for a single tech-governor, let alone several dozen.

Finally, the iron door gave away, with its pieces splintering all across the warehouse. Sarah closed her eyes— partly out of concern that the splinters would reach them and partly out of exhaustion. To her right, Johnathan crawled backwards toward the entrance, using his legs to kick tech-governors away from him as he went.

When Sarah reopened her eyes, she found her remaining trans-metal broken into small pieces and scattered across the rafters. Sarah gathered as much trans-metal as she could and used it to pull herself into the shaft.

“Wait for me, kid!” Johnathan shouted, hobbling to the entrance.

Sarah was relieved to hear the calm tone return to his voice. Although, this relief only lasted for a moment. As Sarah extended a bar of trans-metal down for Johnathan to grab hold of, she knew that their night’s battles were only half-over. Within the next two weeks, they’d return to their problems again. Only, success would matter more than ever. They’d be approaching the Model Human.