Smog was everywhere. Twisting through the alleyways, around buildings, and infecting indiscriminately the lungs of people on the streets. Lily Lou sighed, taking in a deep breath of poison air and sand, doubled over coughing, then thumped (rather than leaned) back on the cold brick wall where she'd been lounging. It wasn't much of a lounge, either. She knew she wasn't very good at looking relaxed, the skinny, short girl she was, picking the sand and the hairs from her scrawny arms to settle her anxious thoughts. She glanced around, a routine check for danger. Her eyes swept across a dreary landscape, finding nothing worthwhile. Buildings, filthy and worn, sat hunched in piles of sand. Idling trucks and outdated hovercars stacked to the roof with camp supplies, dirty men and women unpacking things and shifting and moving them. The boy next to her noticed her frown, and, being her friend, nudged her in the ribs and smiled to make her do the same. She complied, straightening as much as was comfortable. The boy's name was Royal. Short, spiky, deep brown hair, eyes the color of ice, tan skin, and a broken nose made him look tougher than he was. She looked at him, not smiling, but he didn't seem to take offense. A low laugh made both children look around. A dog, maybe three feet tall at the shoulder, five feet long, was staring at them. Lily blushed, berating herself for not noticing the creature sooner. It laughed again, baring yellowish fangs, and stepped a bit closer. Royal grimaced, taking a pistol from where it was roped to his shirt. He aimed it at the dog, and it slunk away, cackling softly to itself.
"Goddamn Smilies," he muttered. "They always get on my nerves. I hate them." Lily nodded in agreement. A cry, gruff and orderly, startled Lily Lou and made her jump.
"MAKE CAMP!"
"That's my cue," Lily muttered, unbending and starting to furtively creep away.
"Hey, hey!" Royal yelled after her. "Come around in an hour, okay? My ass is on the line, here." Her fervent nodding agreement enough, Royal did not press her anymore.
Lily Lou sighed. She knew that she had to go home soon, but wondered if it wouldn't matter if she stayed for just another hour...? A cold gust of wind rustled her hair and nearly knocked off her headpiece, clipped on carefully that morning. She adjusted the tiny, white skull and, her goggles clattering, bent behind the foot-high stone wall, remembering that she didn't like heights and then wondering why she wanted to climb to the top of a building to think. Despite the Smilies snarling and cackling and circling below, it was peaceful up here, with the breeze whistling over her like windchimes. She barely smelled The Plague Air anymore. Lily Lou heaved another sigh and decided that another hour would be nice. Her ear radio buzzed loudly, shattering her hope of sleep. Grumbling, Lily Lou rolled over and twisted the radio a little to the left.
"Yeah?" Her voice was timid and small, like it always was, but this time, clearly frustrated. "Oh shit, Royal, is that you?" The voice on the other end didn't seem to care, though.
"Where the hell are you?! Didn't I tell you in no uncertain terms to be back in an hour?! Chief is pretty pissed off." Lily Lou squirmed. She hadn't meant to get Royal in trouble. She didn't mean to take so long, either, it was simply relaxing to forget being her. She liked to pretend she was a Smilie. Smilies didn't have to worry about anything, besides what to eat and drink. Well, she supposed they had more troubles than that, being hunted whenever they showed their faces, but they were too stupid to realize it. She wished she were stupid.
"Geez, I'm real sorry, Royal! Tell him I'll get there in 30," she said, genuinely nervous, twisting the radio back to the right. It fizzed and went dead. She stood up on her legs, shaky like worn-out springs, and hopped to Edmund, her rusty gray hoverbike, and straddled the leather seat. Gripping the faded orange of Edmund's horns, (part of a bleached cow skull, the signature of the Skull Krushers) she twisted them, revving up the engine. Her translucent, brown goggles clicking automatically into place, Lily Lou backed up carefully, turning towards the left ever so slightly... finally, she faced forward, and then she was off down the rickety fire escape. Wind now sounded less like windchimes and more like a coming storm, low and gray and threatening. Not that Lily Lou had ever seen a storm, it hadn't stormed in The Plague City in years and years and years. Her parents had never seen it rain, Royal's parents had never, and both their grandparents had not, and neither had their grandparents, and neither had theirs. Empty buildings blurred past like the gasping corpses of those newcomers who had somehow fallen out of Shadow's good graces and were made to live here, and perished from the tainted smoke in their delicate, refined lungs. The Shadows were, of course, HappyLiving, and no one knew who Shadow was, the man she hated with a deep, fierce, unquenchable thirst, like she hated The Plague Air, hated The Plague City. Her mother used to tell her that there were places that had other things besides choking smog and hostile enemies. That was before Lily Lou had gotten her skull piece. When her mother used to sing in an angelic voice, combing Lily's sea-green hair, till her head rolled with fair melodies and gentle notes, and put out, very slightly, the toughness and brutality she was born with, that all her kin was born with since anyone could remember. Her father used to complain about it, saying that Lily's mother was the reason she was so meek and tame. Used to.
Tears burned Lily's eyes, thinking of her mother. She blinked them out quickly, so they wouldn't blur her vision.
Two: The Center
Cino was bored. He was always bored, but he guessed that's what's to be expected with an IQ of 173. School was boring. Most other things were, too, he found. His peers, for instance. His parents and admirers. He'd thought that taking advanced classes would fix that, but he'd learned too quickly and everything became dull and lifeless once more. His teacher, AB16, froze suddenly, as if reading a message from inside its head. It turned towards the class, scanning over heads tucked into yellow turtlenecks or lapels with deep blue sweater vests. Expectant human faces peered back, staring into the android's creepily realistic eyes.
"Mister Oren," said AB16, moving rigid lips in an undead rendering of human speech. "You are summoned to The Principal's office. You are dismissed now." Cino was surprised, but not very, and definitely less than his classmates. They gasped and hissed at him as he picked up his bag and walked out of the classroom door. He started to walk. Cino couldn't help but be disgusted by them, feel superior. They acted like children. Well, they were children, but that didn't justify their cruel and foolish behavior. Actually, he thought, they should be more mature, they're the older ones! He knew it for a stupid thought almost before he completed it, and pushed it away, instead noticing the clean, white tiles that showed his reflection. A tall, tired-looking boy of about thirteen, with eyes that were eternally watchful. Flabby, purple skin around them from not enough sleep, also making him move sluggishly, as if in a haze. Hair so blonde it was white, thick and straight, in a bowl cut that was starting to need a trim. No worries, the Personal Hygiene robots would take care of it when he woke up tomorrow. He had reached the end of the hallway and called for an elevator with his student ID. A spinning, glass cube stopped in front of him with a thunk of pressure being released. He stepped in.
"Good morning, Cino Oren." An automated female voice spoke as if from nowhere. "The time is 10:02. The date is November 7th, 3021. The-"
"Hadley, I already know that stuff. Take me to the Principal's Office."
"Right away, Cino," said the female voice. "Going up!" Cino was whisked three floors upward and the cube gently paused inside The Principal's office. The cube was transparent, and he could see The Principal sitting at a desk, another chilling android.
"Good morning, sir. You wanted to see me?" The android jerked suddenly, smoothly turning to Cino like a marionette and smiling almost realistically.
"Yes, Mr. Oren. It's about the results of your test." He gestured to the PocketPal on the desk. Cino picked it up.
NAME: Cino Oren
GENDER: MALE
AGE: 13
HEIGHT: 1.6 m
WEIGHT: 54.4 kg
PHYSICAL: AVERAGE
MENTAL: EXCEPTIONAL
EMOTIONAL: GIFTED
ARTISTIC: AVERAGE
MUSICAL: GIFTED
SELECTION: AFFIRMATIVE
A warm flush filled Cino's cheeks and made them burn with pride. "I've been selected?" He murmured to himself. The robot hummed as it received information.
"Looks like you are dismissed for today, Mr. Oren. Please, go home to your family and tell them the good news."
"Thank you," said Cino, bobbing his head in acknowledgement. Gripping the PocketPal tightly in his hands, he turned and left, his head buzzing with ideas, and his face aching with a smile.
Hey, ArtistGirl here! I hope you like the story so far! Go ahead and comment what you think, but tell me EVERYTHING, good as well as bad. For example, "You're trying too hard to do XYZ," or something. What I really don't want to happen is to be left all good reviews with no criticism. I'm trying to improve, people. Don't forget to vote, and share this with your followers! Ciao for now.
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The Plague City
Ciencia FicciónLily Lou hates pretty much everything. She hates the aggressive mood and smoldering hatred in the air above each head and behind each eye. She hates the smothering smog that chokes and clogs and kills. She'd like nothing more than to escape in any w...
