Anthology of weird stories

The shrinking city

The Mumbai sky, choked by a perpetual haze of smog, cast a sickly yellow glow on the teeming streets below. Rohan, his white salesman's shirt already stained with sweat, navigated the human tide with practiced ease. A holographic news report flickered above the throng, the image of a grim-faced Earth leader juxtaposed with the red sands of Mars.

"**News Reporter (V.O.)** Tensions escalate as Mars threatens a pre-emptive strike against Earth. Both sides blame the other for the Martian atmospheric collapse."

Rohan scoffed, the news a daily dose of despair. Earth and Mars, once siblings in the vast cosmic ocean, were now locked in a hostile dance around a dwindling oxygen supply.

A sudden commotion broke his focus. A woman, her face bruised and frantic, wove through the crowd, clutching a small, glowing blue orb like a precious talisman. Security guards in Martian jumpsuits, their sleek armor a stark contrast to the Mumbai's chaos, were hot on her heels.

Years of dodging debt collectors and navigating Mumbai's labyrinthine streets honed Rohan's survival instincts. He ducked into a dimly lit tea stall, the woman following close behind. She collapsed on a rickety stool, gasping for breath. Her eyes, the color of a stormy Mumbai sky, met his.  

"Please..." she wheezed, her voice hoarse. "Help me."

Rohan eyed her cautiously. This wasn't a sale he was prepared for. "With what?"

The woman, gathering her strength, held out the glowing orb. Up close, it pulsed with an otherworldly light. "This." It felt warm to the touch, humming with a faint energy. "It's the key... to saving everything."

Intrigue battled wariness within Rohan. Everything screamed trouble, but the raw desperation in her voice stirred something in him. Smita, she introduced herself, was a dissident from Mars, a runaway carrying a weapon of terrifying potential - the Shrinking City Device. Smita explained in hushed tones how the device could miniaturize entire cities, turning them into bargaining chips or instruments of destruction.

Rohan, disillusioned by the warring factions and the ever-worsening pollution choking his beloved Mumbai, wasn't sure whose side to take. Yet, the thought of a weaponized city sent shivers down his spine. He needed a plan, and the rickety tea stall wasn't the place to formulate one.

Smita's frantic explanations were interrupted by the clatter of boots on pavement. Martian guards stormed into the stall, their visors reflecting the dim light. Rohan, adrenaline surging, shoved Smita towards a back entrance adorned with a faded Ganesh poster. A desperate prayer escaped his lips as he engaged the guards in a charade of ignorance.

The alley behind the stall was a maze of crumbling buildings and overflowing waste bins. Smita, surprisingly agile despite her ordeal, led Rohan through the labyrinth. They emerged in a bustling market, a symphony of haggling voices and the oily scent of street food.

"We need help," Smita panted, leaning against a fruit stall piled high with mangoes.

Rohan nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "Someone who can understand this thing." He thought of Ravi, a wiry, tech-savvy kid who navigated the underbelly of Mumbai's Dharavi slum with the nimbleness of a cockroach.

Their journey to Dharavi was a sensory overload. Towering shanties cast long shadows, a kaleidoscope of brightly painted corrugated metal roofs. The air crackled with the energy of a thousand makeshift workshops. They found Ravi in a dimly lit internet cafe, his nimble fingers flying across a battered keyboard.

Rohan's proposition – a glowing orb, Martian rebels, and a device that could shrink cities – was met with amusement and a raised eyebrow. But the promised reward – a hefty sum in Martian credits, a rare commodity on Earth – piqued Ravi's interest.