Subject 0025

Chapter 3: A Rare Commodity

(( Playlist: The Arena by Lindsey Stirling))

Typically, the metropolitan area was a riddle of establishments, multiple layers of roads, and flying vehicles and devices. Buildings rose miles above clouds, tall, thin, round, twisty, flat; they were in various shapes and forms. Different types of flying vehicles: cars, buses, trucks, or ambulances, some running at almost lighting speed and some lazing around in their respective air lanes. Smells of smoke, oil, dishes, and indistinguishable stuff filled the air. Sirens blared in the distance.

A voluptuous hovercar, looking a lot like an upside-down bowl, was heading in the opposite direction of civilization. All the paint works had peeled off, covered in dents and scratches, it was one ugly machine. It exited the city of light and sky behind and was on the way to another city that was everything the first one was not.

As it had gained around a hundred kilometers, the lands below were becoming more and more barren. Only leftover markings of an old road were visible here and there. After driving low a few meters above the ground, the wheels emerged and continued their way running on the earth.

Inside the vehicle were two women, an elderly woman in the driver’s seat and a middle-aged woman who was the younger version of the former. 

“You need to stop coming here, mom. So damn lucky you haven’t gotten caught yet. If you were, you would go to jail. I had no idea you were coming to this dangerous place the whole time.”

At the front was a transparent windscreen, surrounded by multiple small digital screens that shows every angle of the surrounding area. A few, however, were flickering and one of them was blank, broken.

“I wasn’t going to get caught. Even if I was, they weren’t sending me to prison just for breaking into a wasteland. Nobody cares about that place anymore,” replied the mother, with one hand banging hard on the blinking touch panel while the other hand controlling the steering pad.

“This is not just a wasteland and you know it. It’s full of radiation. No plants. No animals. I don’t even know why I came with you.” 

“I’d rather die of radiation than be homeless and starved. No one would hire me for anything at my age when machines can do better in everything. I sold homemade cookies, and no one was interested in it. They thought mine was expensive. You have no idea how I have been living.” 

Both were in jeans and shirts, the mother’s clothes had faded and worn out, her face full of wrinkles.

“Alright. Alright,” the younger woman ended the conversation. With an almost inaudible mumble about how her life had not been easy breezy either, she touched open a random radio program that turned out to be the upcoming presidential election.

“Who do you think is the strongest among the four candidates?” the presenter asked calmly.

“I assume it’s Prsillica. She had seventy-year experience in Congress. It is her biggest edge over the other three candidates. However, I think what CNA needs right now is someone like Wafford,” the other person answered in a thoughtful voice.

“Why don’t you change the channel? I don’t care who becomes the president. They all come and go. No one has made my life any easier,” blurted out the mother. 

Without rising from her seat, the daughter stretched out her hand to the touch screen.

“...also has supporters, hasn’t he? Especially his generosity to children and charity movements about orphans make him…” the radio switched to another channel. It announced a new episode of an ongoing comedy show, the Daily life of an Office Robot. 

“Oh… does he care about children? This Wafford person?” the older woman sounded impressed. She switched back to the previous channel. Her daughter shook her head with a sigh.

The presenters were continuing about Wafford’s childhood. How he had been an orphan himself since he was twelve and that possibly being behind his enthusiasm to save orphans from the street. He had founded orphanages across the continent; they said. 

“He is such a kind soul. Those people are rare these days,” remarked the mother.

“Yeah,” the daughter nodded, “He is. I like him. I wish he becomes the president.”

They finally had something they agreed on. That being a rare moment in their communication, the daughter talked about all the good things about her favorite candidate and the mother also agreed eagerly.

Along the way, their hovercar had passed several warning signs. They all warned about a danger zone and not to enter it for any reason. 

Something as big as a mountain stood in their way. It turned out to be a colossal black box. As the vehicle got nearer to it, the black box appeared to be a cage stretching over the horizon endlessly.

A monument—a massive cubical stone with inscriptions on all five faces—stood erected before the box. It read:

NEW YORK GREAT EXPLOSIONS

(Without a special authorization of the government of the Continental North America, any kind of entering this prohibited zone is punishable for up to three years in prison.)

On May 9th, 2853, the most destructive atomic explosions in history killed nearly twenty million people and destroyed nearly two thousand square kilometers, including New York, one of few ancient cities in the world that contained nearly a hundred historical buildings. The area was barricaded and prohibited from then for the danger of health hazards. 

The explosions that were assumed to be accidents were later revealed as premeditated crimes against humanity. The supreme court sentenced five people responsible for the explosions to death by lethal injection, and their eleven accomplices to triple life sentences…

Thick black wire meshes went up to a few miles into the air before making a roof under the sky. The wires appeared sturdy and threatening and yet, near the ground was a rip, as if cut out intentionally. Through which that the hovercar went inside the cage.

“Mother!” The middle-aged woman widened her eyes. “Did you make that hole?! How did you even do that? Unbelievable!”

“You are giving me too much credit. That was already there. Someone else must have broken in. I guess they were even more desperate than I was.”

“Look at that,” the daughter gasped at the widescreen. The ruined city of New York lay helpless under the setting sun. The ground was uneven, with increasing piles of debris as they got closer to the city. 

“I’ve only ever seen this on screens and virtual worlds. This looks worse,” she remarked.

Precariously, the hovercar glided up; it flew low above the ground, entering the streets of New York. Tallest building in the city looked sliced through in half. Shattered pieces were everywhere. Hovercars crashed on buildings and streets. 

The mother and the daughter chose rare clean spaces to park their vehicle. “Put these on,” the older woman handed gloves and a clear helmet. She was putting a set of them on her as well.

 “Be careful of glass pieces. They’ll cut you. They are fragile.” 

“Are they? Why?”

“Some of the glass here is different. It’s not like the one on our hovercars or anything we use. They break. Can’t sell them either. No one buys them, despite being ages old.”

They waved through the piles of broken things. The older woman occasionally instructed the younger one what to pick up and what not to. They brought parts of broken machines and metal bars into the trunk that occupied most space of the hovercar.  

“This would last at least an entire month, including the rent. Alright. Let’s go home.”

“Finally,” the daughter groaned.

They stretched their limbs before walking back to their vehicle, handling what looked like engines in their arms.

The twilight scattered over the tops of ruins. A shadow moved inside a building, though it was only a flash.

“What’s that?” The daughter turned around sharply. Her voice was low for the helmet. 

“What?! I didn’t hear you!” the mother shouted back.

“I thought I saw a movement! Like someone!” she shouted back.

“Where?!” 

“Over there!”

“Must be a stray cat! Just let’s go!”

“No one could live here. Not even a cat. As I said, plants can’t grow here. Only you and I come here because we are crazy.”

Another movement and the time the older woman noticed it as well. “You are right.” She furrowed her brows. “That can’t be a cat. It’s too big. Let’s get out of here, honey. I feel something fishy. We go home and I’ll make your favorite dinner to–”

Something wheezed through the wind to them from the building. It was faster than blinking, and there was not even a yelp. Blood splattered around, some drops hitting the mother’s face.

“Hannah!!!” she cried out in shock and anguish, her face covered with blood. “No..no..no..no..no… MY BABY!!!” In her daughter’s place was a lifeless body, a see-through hole in the chest. She ran to the body, another shot flew past the spot she was standing a second before.

***

Just as Dr. Lance exited the Director’s office, security alarms blared loudly with an alert, “Intruders in the area!” He stopped in his tracks. “Interesting,” his lips moved inaudibly. A few minutes later, the blaring stopped. He continued on his way.

“Clear the treatment room. Move the body into the morgue,” he instructed, tapping on his wristband. 

“Yes, doctor,” a man’s voice replied from it.

He went inside the bathroom around the corner. Inside, at the sinks, he splashed his face with water. Taking a long time, he washed his hands. Finished, he looked into the mirror. Palpable anger filled his blue eyes, his hand gripping the sink.

“Dr. Lance?” the same voice from earlier rang out.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, doctor. I’m a little confused, but there is not a body.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There is no dead body in the treatment room.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE IS NO DEAD BODY?!!! CHECK THE UTES MACHINE!!! You have been working here for what? A decade? You should already know that.”

The man went silent for long seconds before answering tentatively, “There is a subject inside, doctor, but it's alive.”

Twenty-five opened his eyes. This time not to the darkness. He could see the inside of the machine. His restraints were gone. He wasn’t sure if he should call for help because there was no help here. The pain was gone as well. It had been so unbearable. He had thought he was dead, but apparently, he was not, unless this was another hell.