I was always amazed at how many people were on the streets this time of the evening. Only a few niche shops and café remained open; yet they still managed to attract crowds. This, perhaps, was one of the only perks of the late hours of my job and the long commute back home. Finishing late meant I could enjoy the beautiful neon lights of the cityscape, even with the black citadel walls noticeable in the distance. The holoprojection of the stars above flickered behind the fog that collected high above in the upper ceilings. I frowned at its density, there must be a leak somewhere in the pipes; I’d have to fix that tomorrow. It seemed I was the only capable irrigation manager at the moment. Much of our staff had been, begrudgingly, contracted to the Sydney Citadel due to the recent attacks on the outer walls by the Forsaken Tribes.
My great-grandmother, or Gran Gran as I called her, would tell me stories about how the Forsaken Tribes had formed, how they had banded together in the refugee camps outside of disassembling cities. Any cities deemed too small to build a citadel around had it buildings and roads torn down the materials were recycled and repurpose for building citadels. It was these people, who had not been able to afford the citizenship papers for wall residency, that had established the nomadic tribes. Many of them had also been activists in the Homeland movement, a protest against the building of the Citadels and Project Atlantis as a whole, in the late twenty-forties. Gran Gran mentioned once that a previous partner had been involved in the movement, before he had been gaoled for eight months under the Social Order Act 2032. The criminal charge on his record had also meant he wasn’t able to gain papers.
The notification bell rang out through the street, freeing me from my thoughts. There was an announcement made about irrigation for terra-forming the park; suddenly there was blooms of colour from the deflector barriers. I activated mine with a swipe of my thumb over my hair elastic; an old woman behind me grumbled something about fake rain. Gran Gran still believed deflector barriers were nothing but fancy umbrellas; I stopped arguing the point that they were nowhere near as disposable or damaging. It was hard to convince my great-grandmother that any of our technology today was new or innovative. Or sustainable for that matter. I couldn’t help but think that she was still living by the rules of the past.
After walking the remaining three blocks under the running irrigation, I came to the apartment complex that Nan and Gran Gran lived in. After a stroke caused paralysis from the waist down, Gran Gran refused to be looked after by a ‘robot’. The building itself was nothing special to look at, simply another greying building in the Old District. There had been some recent upgrades to the AI system that ran the building, but overall it had remained the same as it had when it was first built. The AI had also sent a message in regards to Gran Gran; usually I wouldn’t bother but at two in the morning, the late hour had me concerned. A quick scan from the identification chip in the frame of my glasses was all that was needed for me to be allowed in, crossing the foyer and inside the elevator.
The building AI had been sending multiple notifications about changes in Gran Gran’s routine. Though that was often her way of having fun and messing with the system; for a lady aged one hundred and eight she still had a lot of spunk. Opening the door and seeing the on-location doctor diminished that train of thought immediately.
“Gran Gran? Are you alright? What happen?” my words came out in a jumbled mess as I knelt beside her armchair.
“Cyra, when did you get in? Did I miss the ceremony?” Gran Gran rasped, reaching to hold my hand. “This is my great-granddaughter, isn’t she beautiful? She has the same beautiful green eyes of my daughter; so bright, aren’t they?”
As I glanced back to the doctor to speak to him, I saw Nan in the hallway motioning me to see her. With a quick reassuring smile to Gran Gran, I left the doctor to his work and went to speak with Nan.
“What’s going on? What’s Gran Gran talking about, is she alright?” I asked in hushed tones.
Nan just shook her. “No…she woke up this morning and kept asking me what time your graduation was,”
I felt sick. I’d graduated in twenty-one twenty-seven. Twelve years ago. A creak in the flooring signalled the approach of the doctor. Leading Nan back to her bedroom to rest I returned to speak to him. The doctor, who’s name turned out to be Eli, tapped his smart watch; across the display was information on legal euthanasia. I had to swallow down the urge to punch him; social disorder and assault were both punishable offences. I couldn’t afford to lose my job.
“What’s this about?” I snapped, gesturing to the projection.
Eli sighed. “I’ve been checking in on Eden for a while now, but she’s never been this bad,”
“This bad? I wasn’t even notified about the memory loss!” I ran my hand through my black ringlets, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t happening.
“Because your Nan didn’t want you to know, you’re not the power of attorney; legally you don’t have a right to this information,”
“It’s twenty-one thirty-nine! You’re telling me there’s nothing else you can do?” I glanced at the display again. “Is this really the only answer?”
Eli nodded, looking torn. “I’m afraid she suffered another stroke last night. Eden and your Nan refused to seek proper medical attention following the last stroke, so I’m afraid this is the only other option I can suggest to you.”
I just nodded and let the doctor leave. I knew there was the technology and medical science available to help Gran Gran, but I also knew it went against all her beliefs. I have clear memories of her raving about living past a hundred; I’d always thought her a hypocrite since she was one hundred and one at the time. She never thought she’d be able to enjoy life if she lived any longer. When I showed Nan the information, the colour drained from her face. We sat in her bedroom for half an hour before Nan decided it was for the best. I stuck around long enough to see both the elderly matriarchs settle into bed before I left to return to my own apartment in the New District. I decided on the light rail, seeing how my encounter with Gran Gran and the doctor had left me quite numb.
As I lay in my own bed that night, I found that sleep eluded me. Instead, I spent five hours staring out the floor to ceiling windows facing the rest of the city. Here on the one hundred and second floor, I had quite the view. But it seemed dulled by the fact that soon it would be without my Gran Gran. It bothered me that Nan had caved to the idea so quickly. Like she was eager to be done with it and move on; I wasn’t in any way blaming her for the stroke but it seemed odd. When I had come back to her room after speaking with Eli, she’d been scrabbling around with some papers. Having physical copies of anything these days was rare; people were still taught how to write but it was with a stylus pen and a tablet. I pretended I hadn’t seen them, if only for her sake; for all I knew they were old photos.
Two days later, Nan and I sat beside Gran Gran in her armchair while she babbled about wild parties with friends in twenty seventy-nine. Around us, there were three other doctors, alongside Eli, as they prepared for the procedure. Taking time off work had been as simple as sending the e-form through to the superiors with an explanation. I’d received a reply that it had been accepted, and a side note saying this was a regular event for many; the facilities were there if I needed to see someone. I wanted nothing more than for this to be over and to be back at work.
With the tubes in place and an old heart monitor set up, seeing as Gran Gran hadn’t had an identification chip anywhere on her person to monitor her heart; one of the doctors injected the serum into the fluids. All in all, it had been over rather quickly. Try as I might, I couldn’t drown out the quiet sobs of my Nan. I chose to let her be and stared out the tiny window at the Old District instead. If my cheeks ended up a little wet then that was my own business. We were given another half hour to be with Gran Gran before the doctors had to return to retrieve her body. When she was gone, both Nan and I sat in the lounge room in silence; Gran Gran’s armchair stayed empty. At the end of the week I was grateful to be back at work, if only for the distraction. After that day, I returned home to bed, where I stayed for the rest of the week. I’d ignored all of Nan’s attempts to check up on me.
Back at work, I had a legitimate excuse for my actions. At my station, in the corner of the dimly lit main control room, I kept an eye on the water pressure levels in the irrigation pipes on screen. Apparently, one week was enough time for whoever filled in for me to stuff up the maintenance checks. There was also an issue from the incoming water from the lake supply outside the citadel. But that was something I couldn’t fix, an issue that I’d have to file a report for the superiors to investigate. The image of the damaged wall of the Sydney Citadel crossed my mind before I disregarded it. The Forsaken Tribes in the Central West sector had been neutralised over a decade ago. But the thought didn’t leave my mind.
“Excuse me, Miss Metanoia, you have a guest waiting to see you in the lobby on ground level,” the errand girl stated, I noted she seemed rather young.
Frowning, I removed my glasses and swiped my chip to signal I’d left my station for a tea break. I figured it was about that time anyway, and it wouldn’t look as strange to the superiors either. Entering the elevator, I propped myself up against the rails and sighed. I knew exactly who was waiting for me down in the lobby; I knew Nan would be worried but I never thought she’d come to my workplace. It was a government department, hence why she had been denied further access. Combine that with her distrust of government organisations and it was a miracle she was even here at all. She hadn’t been this clingy since my parents died during the sinking of the Maldives in twenty-one ten. They’d been on the waiting list for the travel permits for seven years prior to their vacation; only two permits were approved each year. Having a four-year-old daughter hadn’t stopped their plans on going. After their deaths, all travel outside the Citadel had been prohibited; work-related travel became restricted also.
I spotted Nan by the glass statue near the entrance, a large-scale figure of the extinct Glossy Black Cockatoo. The piece had been constructed by a wall maintenance worker, he’d recycled excess glass bottles from the communal kitchen area and those left outside capsule bed stations in section 27-1W. Walking up and standing next to her, I could feel the nervous tension radiating from her in waves. I’d never seen her so nervous. I opened my mouth to speak but Nan spoke over the top of me.
“Good day at work? No one else come to see you?” she whispered, I almost hadn’t heard her.
“Yes, so far it’s been fine. Though someone seemed to enjoy leaving me a mess to clean up!” I replied in equal tones.
Nan made a noise of confirmation. “Sorry about that, I had to have some way for you to get out,”
“What? Nan are you alright?” I responded louder than intended.
Nan was quick to shush me. “I’m afraid I don’t have the time to explain, they’ve already figured Gran Gran’s papers were forgeries. At the end of your shift tonight there’ll be an event, after that you’ll be escorted out of the Canberra Citadel to a man named Orion,”
“Nan you’re not making-,”
“Quiet! It’s vital that they don’t catch you, this has been ninety years in the making.”
“I don’t understand,”
“You will,” Nan pulled me in for a hug. “I love you, so much.”
As she pulled away, she held a tight grip on my hands before leaning in to kiss my right cheek; a small metal object was pressed into my left palm at the same time. With a quick wave, she stepped out through the automatic doors and into the artificial daylight of mid-afternoon. Meanwhile, I felt like I’d had the wind knocked out of my lungs. In one way, this cleared up Nan’s suspicious behaviour. It also created more questions. Not even looking at the item she pressed into my hand, I pocketed it in my olive-green blazer and went back to work to finish the rest of my fourteen-hour shift.
In the eleven hours I had left of my shift, I took my second tea break and dinner break somewhere isolated. I needed space to process exactly what it was Nan had said to me, not that it helped or made anything any clearer. An event would take place, judging by how she spoke about the replacement for my shifts, it had to do with the irrigation system and the pipes. But I’d managed to get the pressure back to where it was meant to be, so there was no risk of ruptures or bursts. Then, someone would escort me out of the Canberra Citadel, presumably using whatever hole was created in this event. But with the wall residents, this seemed like an impossible feat also, after all they were in charge of maintaining the structural stability of the walls. Their own lives depended on it, their homes would be at risk otherwise; if you could call an enclosed bed with a roller door a home. Then there was the man I was to meet up with, Orion. He was another enigma I didn’t even want to delve into.
As I returned from dinner to the final two hours of my shift, everything seemed normal from what I could see. There were no anomalies in water pressure or even from the incoming pipes. With all this, I put Nan’s conversation down to grief and delusions. I made a mental note to have her see someone before it got worse. Across the main control room, I watched the other managers as they monitored their own sectors; their face lit by the blue light. From what I saw, all sectors were running smoothly; with exceptions for the surveillance sector from outside the Citadel. A severe storm cell was forming, the electronic bells signalling an amber alert was advising for deflector barriers to be activated. Once this was done the noise ceased. Aside from that, there was nothing. I was thankful in that it stayed that way up until the final ten minutes of my shift.
At zero one fifty-two hours, red alerts went off for a blockage in the water filtering system from the incoming pipes. The blockage was unidentifiable through monitoring systems. The water pressure began to skyrocket and I was fumbling to prevent the structural damage that was imminent. At zero one fifty-eight, the irrigation pipes in ceiling section 89B burst. Shortly after, a loud explosion created a hole fifty metres in diameter in the ceiling. Large hailstones fell through the gap, adding to the damage from the ceiling debris. As the head official for the control room yelled orders at the other sector mangers, the errand girl from earlier appeared at my side; her grip on my right bicep was tight and lethal.
“We need to leave. Now!” she stated. The girl all but pulled me out of my chair.
In the chaos no one seemed to notice us make an escape towards the elevator; the only way in or out of the main control room. As we exited the elevator on the ground floor, it occurred to me that going outside meant possible death from the storm cell. Which was the direction the errand girl was currently dragging me in.
“Wait, we can’t go out there! The hail!” I screamed over the sirens. The girl scowled at me. “I’m not going out there!”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t get a choice!”
The errand girl pulled a mobility enabler device and a large serrated edge knife from inside her blazer. As I stepped back to move away, she moved swiftly into my space. I heard the zap before I felt the placement of the chip. It stung, but I knew what it was. A mobility chip, designed for those with paralysis to regain muscle function and movement. I suggested one for Gran Gran after a stroke took away the function of her legs. She’d refused. Now I knew why. Errand girl pulled out a smartphone (I hadn’t seen one since Nan threw hers out when I was a child), it looked a little worn down but still managed to work; that wasn’t what concerned me. What did, was how I moved towards the door while she kept a finger on the touch screen.
Outside was even more chaotic then inside the Sector Control Headquarters. Everywhere people were ducking into buildings or taking shelter wherever they could. With hailstones the size of basketballs, it was a reasonable reaction. Continuing straight out of the front door, errand girl steered me down the avenue directly in the path of the hole in the ceiling. The option to protest was taken from me, the chip also seemed to neutralise my tongue to keep me mute. The moment errand girl switched off the chip and I could stop running, I was definitely punching her in the face. Though in all fairness she was doing remarkably well avoiding the hailstones; with what seemed to be practised ease.
Drawing closer to the impact zone, I noticed the Blackhawk helicopter with the blue deflector barriers; I assumed the machine was such from Gran Gran’s description of them. It appeared the errand girl had been my escort and the helicopter my way out. Even more alarming was the knowledge that Nan hadn’t been delusional. The outdated machine hovered closer to the ground, a man with chocolate brown curls slide open the door. The errand girl took her opportunity to all but toss me inside as she followed suit. With us both inside, the machine made its way back out of the Citadel and away from the scene of the crime. I felt the buzz of the mobility chip fade and took my chance to sucker punch errand girl.
“How dare you!” I yelled so loud my throat burned.
“Go on, try that again! I’ll throw you out the fucking door!” Errand girl was just as loud.
The man with chocolate brown curls stepped between us. “Remi calm down! After using a mobility chip on her, what did you expect? A hi-five and a thank you?”
I watched on with interest as the stranger seemed to defuse errand girl, Remi, rather quickly. Then he turned to me. Judging by the lines on his face, he was even older than I was; though that could have also been from the haunted look deep in his cerulean irises.
“They didn’t tell you, did they?” he asked. I crossed my arms and gave him a side glance.
“I suppose you’re Orion?”
“And I suppose you’re Cyra,” came his short reply.
“I’ll be wanted for treason now, I hope you realise that,” I stated, buckling myself into a seat.
“We have bigger concerns then that,” Orion seemed almost amused with my answer.
“What bigger concerns could you possibly have then Citadel enforcement coming after you?” I was growing tired of vague answers.
Orion pointed to the window beside my head. “That.”
As I turned and took in the view outside the window, I felt myself grow sick. The top of the Canberra Citadel was still visible for some distance. But beyond that was nothing but grey dirt, ruins of old highways, barren hills and large black pipes. I knew what those black pipes were, marring the landscape. The water supply pipes. It was like the earth had dried up and died. I suppose in a way, it had. That wasn’t the worse part. Worse, was the metal pipes connected to the roof of the citadel, one stretching out from every corner of the hexagonal tower. They stretched on forever, far out of sight in the brown haze of the sky. I also, had no clue what they were for.
“Those pipes are for the fossil fuel supply. It’s what the Citadels run on.” Orion spat.
“You’re wrong, all the Citadels run on sustainable energy!”
“Well guess-,”
“They were designed to withstand rising sea levels and the severe weather events caused by climate change!”
“Will you-,”
“Their role was to let normal people live their lives while nature corrected itself!”
“And who told you that? Hm?” Orion yelled. “Who taught you that? The citadel officials! Your so-called government!” I felt my voice catch in my throat. I was thankful that Remi seemed to have disappeared into the cockpit.
“Your lying,” I whispered.
Orion shook his head. “Jeez, how in the world are you related to two of the greatest activists in the Homeland Movement?”
I frowned. “The Homeland Movement ended ninety years ago, all active members were gaoled and everyone else took up residency in the walls of the Citadels as maintenance workers,”
“Is that what happen?” Orion smiled. “And here I thought we’d been working in secret for ninety years to tear down fossil fuel guzzling, nature destroying, society dividing citadels; whose leaders think they can hide from and ignore what’s happening to our planet.”
I hadn’t know Orion long, but already I had the urge to slap him. “So, Nan and Gran Gran were inside agents of some kind, feeding you information about the citadels?”
“Not just inside agents, they were the head honchos. Thanks to your job as a government gofer, they got their hand on a lot of useful stuff.”
“I am not a government gofer, I’m an irrigation manager!”
“Yeah, whatever. I don’t want to hear about how you make rain. I have one more important question,”
“Yeah what?”
“Do you still have that memory drive your Nan gave you?”
“I’m sorry, the what?”
Orion gave me a look that suggested he doubted the level of my IQ. “The memory drive, you know, a USB stick? She sent word saying it was with you.”
I went to protest when the memory of the lobby flashed across my mind. The metal object she’d pressed into my hand. Reaching into my inner left pocket, I pulled out the memory drive and stared at it. It was about two and a half centimetres long and silver. Even I knew that this was a seriously old piece of technology, from the twenty-first century. I handed it over to Orion silently, if Nan needed to smuggle this out of the Canberra Citadel in person then it must be important. I watched as Orion gave a sigh of relief before putting the item in a zip up pocket. My role, it seemed, was not as vital as Nan made it out to be. I looked away from Orion and back out the window to watch the dense smog as it built up static charge.
“We need you too you know, according to Aunty Trinity,”
I snapped my attention back to Orion. “Excuse me?”
“She didn’t give me specifics but apparently for our plan to work, we need you.”
Orion didn’t seem to notice that my hang up was for a different reason. “We related?”
“Oh yeah, nice to finally meet you cousin,” Orion switched moods so fast I got whiplash.
“I think I’d rather take my chance with the hailstones.” I deadpanned.
“You’re not the first to say that to me,” he quipped back.
I pressed my mouth into a thin line, looking back out at the smog. “Do you really think this plan of yours will work?”
“No idea. But I’d rather die knowing I tried to do something, then end up dead because I did nothing.”
I huffed. “Do you practice that in the mirror?”
“Every night before bed,” Orion ribbed.
“You’re an idiot!”
“Yes, I am,” he smiled as he stretched and shut his eyes, placing his hands behind his head.
I stared for a moment. “Stupid enough to let me join the Movement?”
Orion was quiet for a while, a frown on his face again. His left eye opened and he grinned. “Absolutely.”