I was seated at the front of the hover plane with my father. The first-class seats were in beige leather, facing each other, with plenty of leg room. Bluish holo-screens divided them, flashing the latest news' reports and stock market values. Indifferent, I peered through the oval windows of the plane, the thrum of the engine like a soft purr in my seat.
Through the glass I spied a sprawling island surrounded by a black, bottomless sea. It was outlined in fluorescent strings along the edges of its perimeter, growing more concentrated towards the centre, like veins to a heart. Electric billboards dotted the surface, lighting up a world so devoid of nature. If there were trees still surviving the harsh climate, they weren't visible from this height. I found myself longing for the green we'd left behind. At home the climate wasn't as severe, at least not yet.
My eyes traced the layers of concrete and glass and neon lights. Spotlights of bubble-gum pink and poison green and reflective yellow, flashing against the background of grey. A winding maze of low, square buildings. In the centre, on a huge, raised platform, stood Uptown: the indoor city, sparkling like a great crystal. In reality it was a cluster of interconnected skyscrapers, so many and so vast they housed entire populations.
We were approaching the heart of the metropolis, the industrial centre of the modern world. Coming here was like flying into the future, a future my father and I had a part in creating. My father's corporation had grown steadily in the last decade, and I had grown with it, into it. My ideas contributed as much as his did—and I had a lot of ideas.
That's why father was bringing me along despite my deviating age. I was the youngest here. People tended to say that there was a certain innocence in youth, that it meant you weren't quite ready for all the world had to offer. That was ironic, in my opinion. We were the ones being born into the world as it was. We hadn't seen it change…we had no past to cling to.
But I wasn't the only young employee on the trip. I eyed the assistants and secretaries sitting around me, trying to meet a few eyes. None of them caught, which I belatedly should have expected. My father occupied a high-ranking position in the company, which meant that everyone else on the flight was beneath him—beneath us. Still, we were all part of the same team, which meant we had to work together.
Conversations were already taking place between the adults and young men. My father was discussing the coming conference with his assistant, a normally collected young man with quick eyes rimmed in glasses. Now, those eyes bugged out of their sockets as he beheld the sea of polished concrete below.
I peered past him, submitting to the briefest eye-contact with one of the few young women. There were two of them sitting together, looking nervous but excited. The one closest to me had blonde hair and velvet-blue eyes. I thought I could discern a smile in their depths, though it didn��t reach the rest of her features. The girl next to her had short-cropped, spiky red hair and eyes black as night. She didn't even look my way, preoccupied with picking her nails.
I hid a grimace, glancing back out of the window. The view would have been breath-taking…if the city hadn't been so hideous. And yet on every other face I saw varying degrees of wonder. People dreamed of visiting Uptown, and now they finally would.
Me? I couldn't help the critical, almost apprehensive feeling overcoming me as I studied the grey terrain. My eyes always picked up on the details—the kind of details most people missed. How the air grew hazy over the asphalt, as if it were melting in the heat. Areas that were under paused construction, large machinery stationed there like gallows. The muddy stain of the slum, hidden in the shadow of the skyline.
And yet, I could understand why they wanted to come here. The metropolis was busy, ultramodern, futuristic; a wonder in technological advancement. Working here was a luxury. But for me it made no difference. I didn't file, or account, or get my hands dirty. I was all about the ideas. It put me up there with all the other great thinkers—or so I was told. According to my father, I was the plan—not the execution.
I didn't mind that state of affairs.
'How long 'til we arrive?' I asked at last.
I'd manoeuvred the question into a lull in my father's conversation, but he still shot me a look of disapproval before he answered. 'Ten minutes or so.' It seemed like he was preparing to admonish me for the impatience, though his eyes softened when they met mine. I wasn't exactly nervous, though I think he sensed the apprehension in me. Of course, he didn't mirror it.
I nodded absently, distracted by my father's eyes; they appeared brighter than usual, like the colour of moss when the sun shines upon it. Those eyes, identical to mine, brought with them memories of home—of spacious streets, rolling mountains, and glistening rivers. A place not as ravaged by modern trend.
I was idly wondering whether the housekeeper was tending to my crops when the sounds of our coming descent brought me back to the here and now. Father's excitement grew at our rapid approach. He seemed to be expecting a similar reaction from me, so I forced a smile at him.
In a matter of minutes, the plane had reached its destination. It hovered above a round platform, its closed shutters like that of an old camera. As we descended, the blades slid apart, swallowing us into the underbelly of the city.
Green-tinged smoke rose by our feet, followed by the sounds of engines settling down. My skin prickled, heart rate picking up. The lack of sound and motion brought with it the unease I had managed to stifle during the flight.
It felt like I was being smothered. Claustrophobia rose its ugly head, causing me to press closer to my father's side, though he didn't notice my state of alarm. He was undoing his belt to stand and address our group.
'Cognitive Industries welcomes you to Delta Metropolis!'
Eager to be out of their seats, the employees swarmed toward the door, following my father into the hangar. I undid my seatbelt and got to my feet, brushing dust from my black dress pants. The smoke was beginning to clear out by now. I walked into the dark hangar, peering around me. It was high-roofed and spacious, and the tension slid out of my body. I made note of the translucent strings along the floor that were guiding us toward the exit.
All around us loomed the notable figures of metropolitan society—the androids. Their bodies had identical fluorescent strings to the floors and walls, lining the length of their limbs all the way to the implants in their temples. Their eyes shone in the dark, a soft, white-blue light.
They cut a striking image. The blend of machine and human aimed to balance the best of two worlds—even I had to admit that. But here in the dark we weren't as confronted with their humanity. Down here, they were just machines doing the practical work deemed too dangerous or difficult for the human workforce.
We were guided from the hangar into a white corridor, which branched out into the underground: a system of circular tunnels that functioned as the main means of transportation in the city. There we entered an oval-shaped pod of polished glass and zoomed away like a star into the darkness.
In just a minute we had reached our destination. I got up when my father did, walking next to him at the front of the line as we zigzagged our way through the corridors guiding us out of the underground. At last we reached an elevator, which took us quickly to ground level.
After that it was just a matter of finding the right building, a super-structure comprised of a hotel, an electronics mall, gigantic conference rooms, and an infinite number of restaurants. Although my father's division was stationed back home, the main operations were conducted here, on site, in one of the buildings adjoining the one we were headed to.
Delta Metropolis was an exclusively indoor city; everything on the outside was essentially suburban. In fact, you barely left the indoor facilities of the metropolis at all. Even if you did, it was only to get to the next building as quickly as possible. We were expected to remain inside this multi-purpose mall for the entire two weeks of our visit, and I blanched when that reality hit me. No sky, no sun, no greenery. Just the endless minimalism of urban life.
There was only one place here that could offer me any respite, and that was my brother's restaurant: the Reef. It was the biggest one in the mall, consisting of two floors, a blend of modern and traditional designs and recipes. Although my father had intended for my brother to inherit his position in the company, Nathaniel had shown little fascination for technology and business, having instead drifted in a different direction and pursued a culinary career.
Personally, I was glad for it. In our world of prim and civil obedience, my brother was the rebel, the spark of deviance in the otherwise monotone course of business life. Sometimes I also harboured thoughts of striking out on my own, pursuing a new hobby on a whim. But the idea of abandoning my father and his legacy…I couldn't do that. Besides, I wasn't as rebellious nor as brave as my brother. I was civil-natured and good at what I did. My father insisted that my future would be more prosperous than even his. And my father was seldom wrong about things.
Still, I was eager to see my brother again, and knew that the conferences would cover figures and budgets and statistics and results. I could learn about all that in due time. I explained my intentions to my father and was met with the usual disappointment. Regardless, my father had a hard time denying me anything, and agreed. He told me he would be joining me by lunchtime. I left the group, strolling through the mall at a leisurely speed, trying to intercept the sun behind the dark glass of the ceiling.
It wasn't a normal mall, by any means. After all, this was the future. Most of the mall comprised of electronics and advanced technology stores, offering everything from the latest mobile devices, computers, automated vehicles, hovercrafts, hoverboards and mirror screens to the truly impressive marvels of the latest decade: the androids. I grimaced as I walked by the display windows, forced now to acknowledge the little humanity in them. It was broad daylight, and even though the emergence of androids was a relatively new phenomenon, I thought their human resemblance was a little too strong.
Before this year, androids had been nothing more but robots, too crude and mechanical to really fool anyone. But now…their faces had been complimented by synthetic skin and detailed eyes. You could still tell them apart from us, since their bodies were more machine than human, and their interactions with us still felt computerised and stiff. It lacked the spark of the living, and I sincerely hoped things would stay that way.
I dismissed these troubling thoughts as I neared the Reef. Pink Japanese blossoms and starry lights adorned the entrance, along with a screen flashing a selection of dishes on the menu. I stopped by the booth just inside the restaurant, adhering to the "please wait to be seated" sign. I made eye-contact with one of the waiters, a dark-skinned youth with a dimpled smile. His eyes flew open when he noticed me, and a delighted grin spread across his face. He finished serving his table before heading toward me.
'Well, well, well!' he said, spreading his arms wide for me to hug him. 'If it isn't our favourite guest. Your brother's going to be thrilled.'
'Hello, Ryz,' I greeted. My eyes zeroed in on a dish being served to the table next to us, pasta with bronzed scallops.
'Hungry already?' he teased. 'Go have a seat by the windows. I'll go get Nathan.' I nodded, feeling eyes on me as I made my way toward the window seats. Self-consciously I straightened my white blouse, wishing I'd worn a jacket despite the heat. The window seats consisted of a long, raised table stretched along the entire length of the glass wall, and high, cushioned stools. I slid into a seat, gazing beyond the glass while I waited.
It was by no means a pretty sight, but at least it was engaging.
The mall was built on a raised platform—on the excuse that it prevented burglary—when in reality, it was to keep out the commoners. We didn't grant them access to the underground travel systems, nor Uptown itself. As such, the window seats offered a view over the bustling, crowded streets. It was obvious what kind of people dwelled there. The "commoners" as they were called; in reality, the poor, lower-class members of society. They did the dirty work in the city and were happy to, so long as they weren't being replaced by androids.
A flea market seemed to be in full motion. Stalls had been set up all along the narrow streets, selling mostly food but also mechanical parts, clothes, cosmetics, et cetera. I people-watched for a while, noting the dirty, dishevelled faces, the short-cropped hair, the red-zinged skin, the torn clothing. The class divisions in the metropolis were strikingly pronounced, and yet, most people here didn't seem to care. I felt pity well up inside me. Back home it was nowhere near this bad.
My brother emerged just then, carrying two plates of steaming hot food toward my table. Despite the rebelliousness he'd harboured in his past, Nathaniel was nowadays calm and cool-natured like me—at least outwardly, a role he'd grown into as masterchef and owner of the Reef. Still, his smile was full of secrets when his eyes fell on me. I found myself grinning back. It had been ages since I'd last seen him, but now it felt like no time at all had passed. That was Nathaniel. He always acted like he knew what everyone around him was thinking. It was a charming quality he'd inherited from our father, one that I hadn't quite mastered myself.
'I think I can hear your belly rumbling all the way from here,' he called. I blushed slightly when the guests nearby glanced in my direction.
'Isn't that supposed to be complimentary?' I retorted, smile brightening when I caught sight of what he'd served me. A large platter of lobsters and oysters and a smaller one with fresh-fried potato chips. To be served seafood in these modern times was a rare luxury. I faced my food while Nathaniel fell into the seat beside me.
'Of course it is,' he replied, in that seemingly nonplussed way of his. 'Bon Appetit.'
'Thanks,' I breathed, barely sparing him another glance while I dug in. I was so consumed with my meal that I managed to ignore the poor-ravaged world beyond. Nathaniel, like everyone else, seemed unbothered by the scenery. His gaze was focused on me.
'How is my favourite sister?' he ventured, after I'd helped myself to a large serving of lobster.
I wiped my hands on the napkin. 'I'm your only sister,' I pointed out, reaching for the saltshaker.
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. 'Don't you think you should taste before you season?'
'You always under-season the fries,' I complained, sprinkling salt over the crispy sticks before popping one into my mouth.
'You didn't answer my question.'
I sighed, knowing his motive. 'The usual, I guess. I got promoted again.'
Nathaniel groaned. 'Why does he keep doing that? He's moving you through the ranks way too fast. Your colleagues aren't going to be happy about it.'
'I'm almost twenty.'
'You're only nineteen, sis. If this is what you want to be doing for the rest of your life, don't you think you should enjoy your last year of youth and freedom?'
I shrugged. 'I am enjoying it. Instead of being at the conference like everyone else, I'm here.'
Nathaniel snorted. 'I suppose I should be flattered.'
'You should,' I said, punching his arm lightly. 'I miss my big brother. How are things with you?' I followed up on the question by studying him carefully. Despite his carefree attitude, I noticed a few permanent wrinkles on his forehead, some creases at the corners of his eyes. Nathaniel was seven years older than me, but too young to be showing those signs of age.
'Busy,' he replied, running a hand through his hair, still thick and lush like father's.
'I can tell.'
He met my eyes. 'That bad, huh?'
'Not at all,' I said, shaking my head. 'You're still the prettier sibling.'
That made him laugh. 'Don't sell yourself short, sis. You're plenty pretty, though I was under the impression that you were too focused on your career to care about that stuff.'
'Sell?' I grimaced at the word, even though I got his meaning—especially his disapproving emphasis of the word "career." 'You're right—I am focused on my career. I have to be.'
'So, why aren't you at that conference?' he challenged, tilting his head at me.
'That stuff is easy,' I said, shrugging. 'I can learn it in no time. I'd rather be here.'
Nathaniel grinned, green eyes glimmering with amusement. 'I guess it's still pretty clear who the smarter sibling is.'
My foot slipped on the footrest, almost causing me to fall out of the chair. 'Not me, surely?' I teased, righting myself.
Nathaniel's phone chimed just then, furthering the creases on his forehead. 'Ah—they need me in the kitchen. Will you be alright on your own for a while? I'll be back soon.'
I nodded, waving him off before refocusing on my food. I ate in silence for a while, clearing off both the seafood and the fries, though I managed to dissuade myself from licking my fingers afterward.
I'd been kind of half-seeing through the window throughout the meal, but now something caught my attention. A guy was hopping on the containers stapled by the concrete shore, moving agilely and swiftly. I craned my neck to keep an eye fixed on him, following his path down to the town square. Like me, he was dressed in black and white, though most notorious of all was his long, dark hair. A rucksack was strapped to his back, but it didn't affect his agility. He took cover behind a red container—then bolted forward and snatched a purse from an oblivious older woman in ragged, layered clothes. Before she could even begin to comprehend what had happened, he had darted back into cover.
I frowned, watching as he repeated the same manoeuvre a second time—and a third time. He would crouch low and then jump out of cover, arm snaking out to grab a hold of a purse before hiding again.
A thief.
I guess it was to be expected. As the outskirts of the city—that is to say, anything that was outdoors—slowly deteriorated, the crime rate equally increased. But a bit of pocket-thieving was hardly the worst of it. One had to wonder what kind of chaos loomed under the surface…kidnapping, rape, murder. I didn't want to think about it.
Despite this, I found myself growing increasingly curious about the city sprawling beneath the mountain of cement that Uptown stood on. I had my device on me and could leave my other possessions here. The only problem was that I didn't want to venture out there alone. I decided to wait until lunch time.
Eventually my father arrived with the rest of the group, all of them talking excitedly about their first conference. A ceremonious lunch followed, with Nathaniel up in his ears in work. He couldn't follow with me, and my father wouldn't approve of my idea, so it was best to abandon the project.
The thought had barely left me when my eyes locked with the blonde girl I'd seen earlier on the plane. What was her name? Giva? Gina? She was gazing at me expectantly, so I gathered all my courage and walked up to her.
She put on a self-satisfied smile when I was close. 'Finally—thought you'd never take the hint.'