Lunar Rising

After reading what I had written (a short summary of how I came here), I close the computer, taking my USB ring off the shiny, flat surface. My metal desk is cold, so I place my arms in my lap rather than on the table. I gaze out at the window next to me. A group of people are walking along a path that has been marked by lights in the pale ground. White dust puffs around them with each step, a perfect contrast to the pitch-black sky.

As I check the time on the clock, I am reminded that I have classes scheduled at 10:00 in the morning. Safety classes have been scheduled for every citizen who applied to live in the Tylius cities. The subjects range from general safety within each home to the science of the planet we now live on, but they are all recommended to attend. As much as I would prefer to stay in my apartment and barricade myself against the world, which would be a safer option, I can also see this as an opportunity to explore the city.

I stand up and look around my bedroom. Almost everything is metallic. My bed in one corner of the room, my desk in the opposite side, and my living room connecting a functional kitchen with a small space for a table. The only pieces of furniture I have are the ones already provided, no more colorful than the gray floor, but I have no complaints. One thing about this room is more luxurious than I ever had before: the feeling of a base where I am free to build my future.

I go to the bathroom, consider the plain mirror, and pull a new color of contacts out from the open case of contact lenses next to me. The color I choose looks pretty and natural with my hair. I carefully put them on, blink at my green eyes, and turn to exit the apartment.

The door closes behind me and clicks as it auto-locks. Ensured that my room key card is in my pocket, I walk briskly through the hallway of apartments and take the stairs up. I keep going until I emerge into what appears to be an enormous mall. This is the city.

Walkways crisscross the spaces above me, linking shops and restaurants between floors. There aren’t many people, so most of the spots for shops are vacant. One shop alone is open upstairs, visible because of the high ceiling, and two people are inside, arranging their items on shelves and installing their holographic, personalized advertisements. The escalators are not moving, the air is conditioned, and the dome that surrounds this city is made up of clear, strong glass, backed by panels of heatproof metal. As I walk, the sight of crowded lots only proves that, once more people choose to live here, this city will be like any other city on Earth.

In just a couple of days, people from many countries have arrived on space shuttles to this new planet. They live in cities like this one, grouped with people from their own country and no one else. Even though I’d been by the government’s side for my entire life, I still find it astonishing how people tend to push away outsiders. On a new planet, there still exists Brazil, the East Alliance, and the Reformed States of America.

I stroll along the walkways, seeing glimpses of people here and there, busy setting inside shops. Suddenly, there’s a loud rumble that shakes the city, and my feet begin to leave the floor.

“Wha--?”

A hand taps my shoulder. I turn around and snatch the person’s wrist, only to find myself face to face with a boy no older than I am. At that moment, when we stare at each other, bewildered, we drop back onto the floor. His wrist is still twisted in my tight grip.

“Whoa! Hey!” He steps back as I release him. “Didn’t mean to startle you… I just wanted to ask for directions.”

“Oh! Um…”

I’m at a loss for words. Ever since my eye color was discovered, I’ve been alone, withdrawn from peers. The closest people to my age since then were the interns that worked in government agencies. Embarrassment floods through me in waves.

He puts out a hand and tosses me a friendly smile that I have no inclination of returning. “I’m Raven. Nice to meet you. You are?”

“Alicia,” I pipe up quickly, glancing sidelong as he puts his hand back. The name on my fake identity. This kid seems genuine, but I can’t trust him not to be a government spy.

“Alicia,” he repeats. “Cool.” He runs a hand through his jet-black hair.

“I’ve got classes,” I say, slightly annoyed that someone caught me off guard so easily. “I should really get going.” Turning to leave, I avoid eye contact with him and begin a brisk stride away.

“Wait!” he calls. “What class? I’m looking for the Transportation Safety class. Maybe we can walk together?”

I take a scrap of paper out from my jacket and read it aloud. It is the same class, and the address is printed in small letters at the bottom. He brightens at that, and I sigh and reluctantly resort to letting him follow me.

As the two of us walk through the inactive city, Raven brings up the topic of the gravity change. “Did it scare you, to float for a few seconds?”

I shrug. “I didn’t know what it was.”

“It was the weekly gravity check,” Raven says. “The planet is equipped with several thousand machines that regulate gravity the way we’re used to it, so that our bodies can adjust to life here easily. You’ll have to get used to them,” he laughs, “if you don’t want to be scared regularly every week.”

“I wasn’t scared,” I scoff. “It was just unexpected. If it does happen every week, I’ll be prepared, and it won’t be startling.”

He looks at me a little with a raised eyebrow. “Sure,” he teases.

“And how do you know so much about Tylius, anyway?” I ask.

“My parents are engineers,” Raven explains. “We came here because they were assigned to work here in the city. Pretty neat place, isn’t it?” Raven gestures towards the many floors and the advanced but silent technology around the city. As we walk, a clear dome overhead comes into view, showing the black sky and the large moon and the stars. This is the center of the city, with a beautiful indoor park under the dome. There are trees here that resemble relaxing palm trees, growing using implemented irrigation systems and artificial sunlight. There are park benches and a small grassy hill in the middle of it all, directly under the clear dome, allowing a perfect view if one were to gaze upward from the center. Inactive fountains sit quiet and still next to the palm trees. The City Center Park here is beautiful, a perfect picture of the way Earth should look like.

Raven takes it all in and lets out a sad sigh. “Too bad we can’t visit home often. The trip back to Earth is just too costly. I guess my life is now here.”

I nod, even though what he’s saying doesn’t connect to me. I didn’t really have a home back on Earth nor a real family. I wince at the uncomfortable conversation between us and marvel at the unfamiliarity of meeting someone my age, that such an interaction must seem normal to other people.

Mostly, Raven talks and I listen. When we finally arrive at a quiet hallway of small classrooms, I thank him for his company and pick up my pace. A swiveling hologram states, “Safety classes this way” and it points towards a swinging metal door.

Raven falls behind me as I sprint up to the door. Right as I prepare to turn into the classroom, a green light illuminates the door and a voice yells:

“Duck!”

I drop down on one knee, reaching behind me to grab Raven right as he gets close to me, and pull him to the floor. The light flickers through the hallway and dies out.

“What is with all the strange stuff here?” I mutter.

Raven catches my words. “Something from inside the classroom?” Then, recognition enters his face and his features darken. “I think I know who it is.”

He enters the classroom, but I hang back. I never thought I would feel this way, to be shy of meeting other people, yet the uncertainty inside me is very strong. I take a deep breath and walk into the classroom.

My eyes immediately go to the cluster of students, all similar in age to me, standing around someone’s desk. There’s a boy with long blonde hair tied back into a thin tail, and a girl with flaming red hair that goes past her shoulders is trying to look over his head. Raven circles around them, mildly curious. Other boys and girls are talking and laughing. They’re crowding around one of the plain metal desks, admiring something that a boy with thick brown curls is presenting proudly in his callused hands.

“Been working on this thing with my pa,” he boasts. “Even got a switch here; See what it does?”

There’s a small explosion, a flash of green light, and the desk that he had been using falls to pieces.

“What is going on in here?”

The door closes behind me with a loud clank. A stern-faced man strides in, clutching a book under one arm and a remote in the other. The man sets his book down onto a long table in the front of the room and brushes down the front of his maroon vest. All the students hastily disperse from the area where the explosion took place. Several of the boys are feigning innocence and cluelessness, and I force my laugh into a cough. A couple other students are also masking chuckles behind their desks and their hands.

“Students,” he commanded, “please quiet down.” His eyes slightly widen a bit at the crumpled desk on the floor, and then his gaze travels to the back of the room, where a smoldering black mark is clearly presented.

He clears his throat while several students bite back their giggles. “I see that the room has suffered,” he says, suppressing a small smile. “Please behave. You won’t be in here for too long, and if we can cooperate, we can get on with the safety procedures much faster.”

The man, I notice, stoops while he talks. He had a longer flight than we did, or he didn’t get enough sleep. He looks bored and his eyes have bags under them. The remote in his hand is held awkwardly, so he probably is unfamiliar with how to use it. Understandable, considering television is mostly voice-operated in normal homes and very simple remotes with two buttons are used to quick-start a car or to summon transportation through remote signals. This man is used to luxuries if he rarely uses a remote. Technology that doesn’t use remotes, though not uncommon, are still considered expensive.

The man surveys the classroom and the students. This is no fool of a man; he could be just as calculating as I am. If he is a teacher, he must have a microchip in his brain for multitasking functions. My evaluations of the man are interrupted by his speaking.

“My name is Mr. Lawrence Kraken. What you are learning in this classroom is very important. It is part of a training program, before we can get started with enrolling you into a proper school.

“Today we will be watching a video on transportation safety,” he announces, wheeling out a projector and turning it on with his remote.

The room is filled with sounds and sights the moment he turns off the lights. We are sitting in desks in the middle of a virtual reality demonstration. The holographic video shows a little man, who waves at us and points towards the words, “The Teacup,” floating in bold print over empty space. Then the little man points to himself and says, “I am Sam. Welcome to the Tylius Cities of America. This is the Teacup, a new public transportation option that is now available in the city.”

A small puff of smoke fans out around empty space, and a round, bowl shaped vehicle rises from the bottom. The seats on this vehicle go around the center, which has a gleaming table with cup holders. The students look at each other with disinterest as the safety procedures of buckling seat belts and securing barriers goes on.

Abruptly, the room fills with sound. After a protective shield encases the whole vehicle like a bubble, the Teacup disappears into a rush of white light. Everyone’s attention is drawn to the performance, but a frantic battle of whispering catches my ears. Discreetly, my head turns toward the sound, and I barely make out a few words.

“…never tell me?”

“It’s not that big of a deal!”

“You made a weapon!”

It’s Raven and the boy with the thick curls and the contraption. At the corner of my eye, the contraption resembles a blaster, with a cylindrical tank made of what looks to be carbon fiber. It sits snugly in the boy’s hand, the switch underneath the boy’s thumb, and the view of the blaster is hidden from Mr. Kraken from behind the desk.

“We could sell this design for millions.”

“It’s illegal to make your own blasters, Neil!”

Neil and Raven look up from their hushed argument, and I hastily pretend to be immersed in the safety video. The Teacup swerves around the classroom with statistics floating above it, showing its speed.

“We’ll talk later,” whispers Raven.

There’s no verbal reply, but a small nod from Neil.

The video draws on for another 10 minutes, and the projector shows how it looks to ride inside it, and many other types of transportation. In each presentation of a new vehicle, the safety procedures are voiced by the narrator and demonstrated by a holographic woman. I know that the class has ended when adults stream into the room, smiling at their children.

Mr. Kraken nods to the class once the video is finished and the kids all scatter, aiming for their guardians. I hang back, watching each little reunion with parents, and feel strangely left out. I sweep through the tangle of adults to look for where Raven disappeared off to, and to my surprise, he’s not with an adult at all. He slips noiselessly through the small crowd, and out the door.

I rush to the door and whirl into the hallway. I make sure my black boots thump loudly and cause an echo. The sound reaches Raven and he stops.

“Where are you going?” I hesitate and bite back the question on my tongue. How do you know Neil?

Raven lowers his gaze and tucks something into his pocket that he was writing on. “Please don’t follow me, Alicia. I’ve got somewhere to go.”

Before I can say anything to counter him, the parents and students are leaving, and the moving bustle obscures Raven from my sight. When the crowd thins out, he’s already gone.

The rest of the day is unbearably stagnant. I’m scheduled to have another class, but since it is an optional one, I decide to pass and dwell in my apartment for the evening. Once the moon goes down, I sit in my apartment at the dining table, eating a packaged, pre-made dinner.

I spoon mashed potatoes carefully into my mouth and chew thoughtfully. Raven somehow knew that boy, Neil. And it seemed that Neil made his own blaster, a point that the two disagreed with. If I could find a way to buy the blaster… such an item would possess enormous advantages to protect me from the government. It was clear that Raven was opposed to the boy’s making weapons. If I could side with Raven and persuade the boy to dispose of it, I could acquire it somehow, or I could simply buy it off him and be done with them both.

Either way, it would be necessary to find Raven again. I would not be against seeing him if it didn’t only remind me of the sheltered, closed life I lived before leaving Earth for Tylius. Around my peers I cannot express my feelings or relate to their words, and around Raven I cannot bear to act like a fool. I was not raised to be a fool. The government made sure of this, so that I would flourish and be useful according to their designs.

The government still has not come after me. I find this a little unnerving, but I am unwilling to let fear rattle me. Disappointingly, I think as I survey my surroundings, this planet really has little to offer. Regrettably, I find myself missing Earth.

After a small dinner I clear away my dishes and drop them into the dishwasher. I spend some more time typing up notes about the city on my computer. After about an hour, my mind grows weary.

I power off my diary, tuck the emerald ring into a drawer, and slip into bed, counting the black marble nodes where the corners of the ceiling tiles touch. Gradually I sink into a fitful sleep.

That night is a restless night. I can’t remember the last time I felt this much energy inside me when I’m supposed to be sleeping.

My dreams burst into little flashes. The government is pointing at me and saying, “Stop!” and chasing me, and my feet are feeling heavier with every step away from them. Suddenly my parents are there, nothing but blurs of memory, and they’re helping me run; but then as I gain strength and run faster, they start to fall behind. Dark shapes of their assassins leap out at them, and within a heartbeat, they are shot dead. My mind is whirling, my mouth open in terror. I pause to watch as my parents turn into nothing but wisps of my memory, tugging at my heart strings until my eyes tear up. Sorrow. A feeling that I want nothing to do with, and yet here it is, pummeling me, choking me. And it won’t let go.

I wake up in a sweat, panting and gasping. My hands fumble at the drawer next to my bed and my fingers search for the light switch. When I turn on the lamp, I flinch at the searing brightness and wait under the covers until my eyes can readjust. Then I throw back my blanket and stand up, pacing back and forth across the floor with my hands in my loose, messy hair. The metal floor is surprisingly not cold at all, warmed by the city’s heating system, and it is a comfort to my feet and to my body to be active again.

I lean against the wall at last, breathless after pacing countless times across the room. The brief action tires me out just enough to make me long for my bed again, even knowing that sleep is impossible. I don’t want to dream again, to remember my parents, for they are long gone. There’s no use for me to keep seeing them in my nightmares when I can barely recall their faces.

While I consider the dreams, I find that they are strange. During the day, when the mind clears into crystal, my parents are nothing to me, merely figures of my history taken away long ago. But at night, the perception morphs into darkness and tragedy. It almost seems that a mind less lucid can understand more, and very nearly remember. Very nearly sometimes, my dreams feel… familiar.

At that word, my head begins to throb. I put a hand to my head and keep it pressed there until the pain ebbs away. Finally, I decide to pull on some clothes and dark contact lenses. Maybe a walk around the city would do me some good. Once my body tires, I will hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep.

Very gently, I unlock my door and pull it open. The long corridor of apartments is empty and quiet, except for the light humming of air-conditioning and electricity. Patting the keycard in my front jacket pocket, I close the door behind me and wince at the sound of the lock echoing down the hall. Then I walk up the stairs, into the industrial area of the city.

At first, I wander down each alleyway aimlessly, searching for nothing but a quiet enclave to walk through. The shops and rooms are silent, and I pick my way across the metal floor uneasily, wishing my boots would not make any noise. There are certain to be security guards patrolling perimeter of the city, and the last thing I need is for them to see me dressed in black and question me. For reassurance, my hand dives into my pocket and feels the smooth surface of my forged identity card.

Alicia Greystone is the name on my false identity, but how long can I use it? Will my name ever be Charlotte again?

I shake my head and gather my concentration, pushing and sharpening my focus. When I reach the end of a long hallway and come to a heavy metal door with a wheel lock, I grip the wheel tightly and pull. It takes me a minute of pulling and huffing, but soon, the door is open. I peer around it tentatively.

I must have been walking for longer than I judged, because I find myself on the edge of the city. Opening the door further, I check for people and take a step outside onto the planet’s actual ground. My boots sink into a dusty covering of sand-like gravel that spreads across the ground, and little puffs of thin, white dirt cloud the air around my heels. My breath stops short in surprise at how light the atmosphere feels. The city, being completed enclosed in its dome, lacks this quality of air.

It is night on Tylius, but the black night mirrors the black day, with the stars in the sky burning with fervor. I close the door behind me and step forward beyond the city walls. When I turn to look behind me, the towering city dome is so tall that I can’t make out where it ends. This is where billions would make their home soon, I think to myself. This is the new planet.

I sigh as cool air washes over me. I’m surprised there’s a breeze here; it’s not enough to create a sandstorm, but enough to make the ground’s dust ripple like waves on the ocean. Cautiously, I keep going forward, keeping to a trail etched in the pale dirt, marked by tiny white lights in the ground.

Suddenly, I sense someone behind me. I hear the scuffling of sandy soil and instinctively feel much more alert.

“Alicia? Why are you out here at this time of night?”

Of all the people it could’ve been, I think with relief, it’s only him. I draw a slow breath and face Raven. He stands tall and firmly, with his thumbs in his pockets, staring at me casually.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d see what it felt like outside of the city.” I nod at his dark shirt and dark pants with matching shoes. “I’m assuming you weren’t planning on seeing anyone either? Wanted to go unnoticed?”

Raven gives a slight grin. “Yeah, I wanted to check on something in the other part of the city. But then I saw someone exiting the city and I realized I haven’t been out here for a while, and I miss the nice feeling.”

We stand in silence for a bit, regarding each other in our dark clothes. “Funny how we both take night walks,” I say at last.

Raven grins and nods at the plain scenery. “Different from Earth, isn’t this? The air feels lighter.”

I turn away and face the next breeze full on, cherishing the clean air. So fresh, cool, relaxing, and no odors from factories or metropolis buildings. I understand what Raven means. The air here is nothing like Earth. I didn’t even know such air could feel this way. Was this how Earth’s air was, before the destruction age where global warming took a turn for the worst and our cities almost wiped away the entire ozone layer?

“It’s quiet out here,” I whisper. My point is proven when my whisper travels clearly all the way to Raven’s ears.

Raven murmurs an agreement.

“Alicia,” he starts, then stops.

“What is it?”

“I… I wanted to apologize for my rudeness today. Then again, I suppose it was yesterday, since midnight passed. What I mean to say is, I’m sorry for blowing you off after class. I didn’t mean to dismiss you in the way I did.”

I don’t know what to say, so I respond with the question on my lips. “Did it have something to do with that invention boy?”

He seems startled. “Yes, but it was nothing.” He sighs. “I suppose you heard us talking in class.”

“Only barely,” I lie. “I couldn’t make out any words, only that you two seemed to disagree.”

Raven shrugs. “He and I don’t always have the same point of view. But we still make the best of it and get along. His name is Neil.”

“Neil,” I repeat, as if I had just heard the name.

He nods and purses his lips. “A friend of mine from Earth. We moved together.”

From his tone, I can guess that he won’t say any more. And I don’t prompt him.

“Well,” Raven says, “good night, Alicia.”

A short minute later, I hear the door open and close with a solid thump, and I know that he has gone back inside the city.

I continue to walk along the trail until I come to a long, paved highway. It’s empty, but I’m sure that there will be shuttles and delivery vehicles driving up and down it soon. The highway for vehicles leads to a different doorway, one that arches high and has a large titanium gate that slides open and shut. I examine the outer dome of the city, and then my eyes rest on what I see in the sky.

Earth, suspended in darkness with half of it illuminated, is beautiful. Even with the gray layer of pollution that obscures much of the greenery, I can still see the deep blues of its oceans. Astonishing, I think to myself, and then a wave of resentment drowns me. I have no time for sentiments, not when I still need to be on the constant watch for government people.

I know how stupid I am, vulnerable out here when I should be inside. And how stupid it was of me to come with new contact lenses and not keep track of what Raven saw. I run through my latest encounter with him in my mind. Had he seen the new color of my eyes, or was it dark enough not to? Raven had not expressed concern when I had turned around and faced him, so perhaps it was okay; perhaps he hadn’t noticed.

I keep in mind to wear the same contact lenses when I’m going to be around him in the future. Not all people change their eye color several times each month, and Raven thinks that my eyes are green.

When I return to my apartment, I sit on the edge of my bed in silence. I realize suddenly why I had trouble sleeping. Something I saw before I slept instilled this quivering fear in me. Something doesn’t feel right. The government knows I’m here, I’m sure of it. I don’t know how or why, but they’re not making any attempt to take me back to Earth. I know the government well enough; they don’t make many mistakes. It’s almost as if I’m intended be here, because they wanted me right where I am.

A small, timid voice speaks up inside me. There is a chance, however slim, that I truly am freed.

By morning, as I scramble around the apartment getting dressed and ready for today’s classes, I make up my mind. I will seek out Raven today. If I can get him to introduce me to Neil, I may be able to acquire the blaster by the end of the week. I put on the same green contacts as yesterday and go to my next class across the city.

Classes are shorter today and Raven is not in mine, but afterwards it is not hard to spot him leaving with the crowd. When I see his head bobbing above the rest, I make my way towards him.

“Raven!” I wave my arm to get his attention. He turns and catches my eye.

“Hey, Alicia,” he says with a grin. “Good to see you. Let’s head over to the Teacup. They just started running it today.”

I follow Raven as he swiftly dives and dips through the sea of people. I am amazed at his ability to get through dense crowds, and it leaves me wondering where he came from.

Raven reaches the Teacup and leads me on board. The Teacup is wide, round, and domed with a glass windshield. Its seats are cushioned with white leather and arranged in a circle. I sit next to Raven as he twists his neck back, looking at the rails we will soon by flying across.

“So, Raven,” I say. “Where are you from?”

“Hmm?” he turns his attention back to me. “Oh, New York City. And you?”

That explains his familiarity with crowds. Quickly, I formulate a fake response. “Chicago.”

He smiles at that. “Neil was from Chicago too, before I met him in New York.”

I nod and proceed cautiously. “Where are you headed to after classes?”

“Maybe Neil’s workshop. His dad owns a mechanic shop on level three. Or I’ll walk around the city a bit before going home.” He stops and ponders something for a moment. “You can come with me, if you want. I’m sure Neil won’t mind. He’s my best friend.”

I seize the opportunity. “Sure. Sounds interesting.”

We stop talking as the Teacup hums to life, and a voice says, “Caution; we are departing now.” With a small lurch, the Teacup glows and begins to move. Suddenly, there is a strange sound, and the Teacup blasts into its impressive speed. The shops and people around the tracks blur, but the passengers inside the vehicle remain still and awed, watching as the city flies by.

Just as soon as we begin to steady into a constant speed, there is a strange noise. A curl of smoke rises from beneath our seats, and the vehicle starts to slow down to a halt. The people around me exclaim nervously as a cloud of thick gas flows into the Teacup interior. The door slides open, and all the passengers are ordered to evacuate.

Raven stands up and follows them, and I prepare to go with him when a hand descends on my shoulder.

I spin around, braced for a fight, to find the cold barrel of a tranquilizer gun aimed at my face. My pulse is rushing, and my blood turns ice-cold. They’ve found me, I think in a panic. What a fool I was—

The finger resting on the trigger gives a squeeze. My vision blurs as the ground rushes up to meet my body.

Darkness.

A sharp coldness, stinging my face and ears, jolts me out of my unconsciousness. I cough. The sound echoes quickly. Details fly, and I struggle to keep them within my grasp. I am in a room with smooth walls. The light isn’t bright enough for me to detect clearly with closed eyes. Before I can analyze anything further, I am disturbed by a large noise, the muffled impact of metal against metal.

My eyes flutter open and I see two people standing, staring at me. Their coats are long and reach their knees. The black and shiny boots they wear are secured by buckles. Their faces are masked, and their eyes remain hidden.

I’m sitting in a chair, and, like how I predicted, I am in a metal room with gleaming walls. The lights are dim and flickering. This is a less stable side of the city, where heavy machinery does its work; very likely, the sound I heard came from the city’s maintenance machinery.

I am not constrained in any way, no bonds to hold down my arms or legs. A fierce stubbornness flares. They can’t hold me. I propel myself off the chair and leap for the door as fast as my dizzy body can manage.

The two people seem taken aback by my sudden effort, but one of them charges, knocking the wind from me and pinning me down to the floor by my shoulders.

Unfortunately, being tranquilized has its effects. I struggle to batter him away and stumble to my feet, but my weakness weighs down my movements. Before I can squirm out of the guy’s strong hold, he bends down to the side of my head and whispers in a husky voice, “Don’t make a sound. We are not here to hurt you.”

I shake my head, confused, refusing to be persuaded. “You’re lying. Who are you?” I whisper back.

The man releases me and pulls off his mask. An aged face, dark bags under the eyes, and a large nose are revealed. Then I see his eyes, the color of them.

My breath escapes from me in a panic. The lights flicker again, lighting up the sheer brightness of the man’s white eyes.