It is the year 2179. Scientists have warned of the consequences of global warming for decades but governments have largely ignored the threat. Things came to a head in the late 2080s, when the surface of the Earth was scorched. Tropical countries turned into deserts, while deserts became fiery pits of hell. Temperate countries turned into their tropical cousins, and the North and South Poles were the only places where one could continue to live comfortably, without fear of radiation from the sun. In the early 2090s, rich governments finally got their act together and began building extensive underground cities which affluent citizens and powerful personalities could migrate to. Politicians, business tycoons and celebrities alike jostled for the right to live and work underground. Less privileged citizens and people from poorer countries continue to live on the Surface, where they battle heat, floods and disease on a daily basis. The only bright spot (pun fully intended) was that hum
Haedon gulped but there was no stopping the tenacious young lady. “Quick, use your power now!” yelped Kyara, who was rapidly turning a ghastly shade of alabaster. Nervously, Haedon placed his fingertips gently on either side of the bleeding gash and wished fervently, once again, for Kyara’s wound to heal. The two of them stared intently at Kyara’s wound, which continued to weep steadfastly. “Err…nothing’s happening,” said Kyara after a few seconds. She wiped the blood on her arm with her uninjured hand, cleaning it on the base of her T-shirt. “Stop stating the obvious! I’m already trying my best,” barked Haedon, vexed. The skin around Kyara’s wound started to turn slightly red. “Look at your wound! Why is it turning red? Does it hurt?” Haedon asked in concern. “No, it’s not unpleasant or painful. It just feels warmish, like someone put a heat patch on it,” Kyara assured Haedon. “But we’re missing the main point. My wound isn’t getting healed, unfortunately.” Taking a deep breat
The next morning, Haedon awoke with butterflies in his stomach at the thought of perpetrating a crime. However, his resolve to put on a good display for Kyara had not dimmed. I’ll show her, he fumed. After dressing up, he knocked on Kyara’s door. They were in the habit of going for breakfast together. To his surprise, there was no answer. Puzzled, he tried the doorknob and realised that the door was locked. Haedon made his way downstairs thoughtfully. Entering the breakfast hall, a flame of jealousy ignited in his heart when he saw Kyara and Lakeyn seated at the dining table. They were deep in conversation, their heads close together. Too close, Haedon protested internally. “Good morning, Haedon,” chirped Kyara brightly. “I decided to come down earlier to get some last-minute tips from Lakeyn. He’s been doing this for three years now, so I’m sure there’s a lot we can learn from him.” Grunting in a non-committal manner, Haedon helped himself to breakfast, dropping the hardtack into
Haedon pulled their basket off the checkout counter with an apologetic smile at the cashier. “We’ve changed our mind,” he said to her. “Wait, what? We have?” asked Kyara in confusion. Scanning the area around them furtively, and keeping his and Kyara’s back to the security cameras around them, Haedon dumped the basket in a nearby aisle and pushed Kyara towards the exit. “Keep walking,” hissed Haedon as they left the supermarket. “I really needed the conditioner,” wailed Kyara. “My hair gets super frizzy if I don’t condition it regularly.” Putting a finger on his lips, Haedon led the two of them back to the motel room without a word, the only sound being their footsteps pounding the ground. “What was that all about?” Kyara burst out the minute they stepped into the room. Mutely, Haedon showed Kyara the message, whose jaw dropped when she read it. Then, she frowned and read the message again. “Fraud Investigation Office,” she mused. “Has your account been hacked so they’re doing
Haedon and Kyara spent the better part of the next few days cooped up in the squalid motel room, strategising over how to gain entry into Queen Imperiala’s palace.Haedon was all for marching up to the entrance and demanding access but Kyara poured scorn on the preposterous idea.“That’s such a silly suggestion, it doesn’t even deserve to be called a plan,” she said. “I don’t think you’ll be allowed to get within spitting distance of the palace.While Kyara sat on her bed in deep thought, Haedon’s stomach rumbled. Time for a snack, he thought delightedly. He rummaged in the string bag where they kept their provisions. Food always helped him to think better. Disappointingly, he came up empty-handed.“Kyara,” Haedon began, “we seem to have run out of food. Can I take a look in your bag to see if you’ve got any food?”Getting no response from Kyara, who continued to stare into space, Haedon waved his hand impatiently in front of the girl’s face.“Did you say something?” asked Kyara, comi
At the entrance of their room, Kyara noticed that it was Room Number 13. “Let’s hope it’s not a bad omen,” she gulped.“The app is very laggy,” complained Haedon, jabbing at his phone. “Oh, it’s working now,” he said as the door became unlocked.Haedon stepped over the threshold and surveyed the motel room. Carpeted with a grey furry material that looked like it would be more at home on the back of a rat, the room was microscopic and contained, as advertised, two single beds, but barely any other furniture save for a small wardrobe. A door at the side probably led to the bathroom, Haedon surmised.Peeking into the room from the entrance, Kyara spotted dust balls in the corners of the room. She sniffed the air tentatively. “I don’t think they’ve cleaned this room since humans moved underground,” she declared.“Oh, do stop grumbling,” Haedon said. “You wanted a room, and we’ve got a room now.”“Sorry, my bad,” said Kyara contritely.Haedon noticed that Kyara had not moved from her posit
The lift doors glided open and Haedon and Kyara found themselves in a squalid vestibule. The glass walls were streaked with dirt and it was hard to look through them. An artificial plant stood sentry in a corner, while food remnants and waste packaging were the only other decorations. The place stank of musty neglect and Kyara wrinkled her nose in disgust.“I can’t imagine the Authorities travelling back and forth between the Surface and Underground using such a filthy border crossing,” remarked Kyara.“I remember Aunt Sav telling me that the Authorities used the border crossing in the city centre,” said Haedon. “The one we used is meant for workers. Since it’s almost impossible to get passes to the Underground, the border is hardly used, which is probably why it’s not well-maintained.”Kyara nodded. “In any case, let’s get out of here,” she urged, tugging at Haedon’s sleeve and pointing at the exit sign.Walking hesitantly to the exit, Haedon pushed open the doors which opened with a
The next few days passed in a blur for Haedon. He had no recollection of eating, showering or indeed, getting out of bed, although he figured he must have done so. He spent most of his time in tears, reminiscing over the time that he had spent with Aunt Savyla and regretting his defiant behaviour towards her. Why hadn’t he been more filial and polite? Why had he yelled at her time and again when she nagged him to study harder? It was for his good, surely. It was too late now. He would never again hear the firm yet gentle voice encouraging him onwards. Throughout his funk, Haedon was dimly aware of Kyara, a comforting presence that helped to keep him from tilting over the edge. After a week of seeing Haedon in tearful mourning, Kyara decided that it was time for Haedon to snap out of it. Kyara squeezed some toothpaste onto Haedon’s toothbrush and brought it to him in bed, along with a mug of water. She helped him to sit upright and handed him the toothbrush. As Haedon started to brus
“Well,” said the doctor. “In such cases, the doctor, that’s me in case it wasn’t obvious, makes the call on whether to save the patient. The patient is old, so there’s no point in saving her life. Even after she’s cured, and it’s not certain that she can be cured, since Marchupo is a very rare disease, who’s to say whether she’ll be too weak to work? In any case, she can’t contribute fully or for long to the Queen. So, I’ve made up my mind and my decision is to terminate her. I can give you half an hour with her before we begin the termination process. Remember, just half an hour and no longer. I don’t want to miss the last shuttle back Underground,” he grumbled. “She’s in the Emergency area at the moment. Don’t say we don’t have a heart here in this hospital.” And on that horrendous proclamation, he turned on his heels and marched swiftly out of the room, his white doctor’s coat flapping. Wiping his tears away fiercely, Haedon flew to Emergency, with Kyara in tow. He stopped short w
A few days after Aunt Savyla had departed for Lystrashire, Haedon started to get sick of hardtack. It was a fuss-free meal (even a child could prepare a meal with it) but it was tasteless and unappetising and. Also, Haedon’s jaws were starting to ache from all the chewing. They ached even when he wasn’t actually eating the damn things. Aunt Savyla was a marvellous cook and was able to rustle up delicious meals from just rice, raisins, dates, and tomatoes. He debated making a trip to the market where he could purchase fresh provisions, but he could not summon up the energy to walk there. It was more than an hour’s journey and he had never been very good at haggling anyway. He decided that he would make do with hardtack for one more day. One day, Haedon and Kyara came home from school to find Aunt Savyla’s dilapidated vehicle at the car park next to their apartment block. “Look, Kyara! That’s Aunt Sav’s vehicle. She must be home!” said Haedon excitedly. Haedon walked up to the vehic