Amia Explores Giza

Amia climbed through the entrance into a large, poorly lit room. Shafts ran along the ceiling and walls, while a jumble of storage units divided the room into a labyrinth. There was no one there that she could immediately see, so she crept her way into the room, hiding the best she could.

She didn't expect any escorts in the room itself because of the radiation, and so far, the assumption held true. Her breathing was too heavy and her head began to spin. Ragged voices echoed from somewhere deep within the room and Amia headed in that direction.

She approached a corner and slowed to scout around it when a man clad in a red prisoner's jumpsuit walked in front of her. His frail head was lowered and shoulders hunched, his shuffled walk was more a crawl, his entire demeanor completely defeated. Yet, the face was one that Amia recognized, even in this ghastly profile.

"Mr. Fredriksen?" asked Amia in a half-whisper.

The man stopped and slowly turned his head in her direction. His eyes beamed in recognition and he tried to crack the tiniest of a smile. "Amia? Is that the finest oboe player I ever had the honor of tutoring?"

Amia leapt over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, giving him a kiss on each cheek. "By Creation, what are you doing here?" she asked.

Terror flash froze her solid and ice coursed through her veins, anguish flooding her face. She was bearing witness to the execution of a man she greatly admired, a fantastic teacher and wonderful person.

Fredriksen looked far from the stout figure she had once known, transparent skin hanging off the skeleton of a formerly great man. It was hard for Amia to imagine that he was once known as one of the most animated men in all of Norgen, a joke always ready to crack. His sunken eyes met her with sadness, "I was arrested six months ago for "instigating colony unrest", whatever that means." He glanced away from her and then realized, "Amia, you're doing the Stage? I'll bet your mother wasn't too pleased."

Only half his mind was present and it was slow to react, the other half was buried away, hiding from the horror that his life had become. He was a broken man.

"My father was the one who was angry, mom was just worried. What did you do to instigate colony unrest?" Amia wouldn't let them fall into idle chit chat, even if it would placate her dear mentor. She had someone who could shed some light onto the underground, and she needed to take advantage of that.

It pained her to do so, particularly with Fredriksen.

"You should get out of here. Now, before someone sees you." Fredriksen looked around him to check for anyone, his mind awakening, his consciousness becoming aware that Amia was actually there conversing with him and not just some figment of his fragmented imagination.

"I will," she replied, "But first, I need to know what's going on. What colony unrest? Why would there be colony unrest?"

"There's no time. You need to get out of here now. There's the radiation, and the escorts do come in to check on us frequently. Go, go!" He began to push Amia, not in a particular direction, but merely to force her to move. She planted her feet and his efforts were those of an ant attempting to move a boulder.

"Not until I get some answers," she commanded. "What is going on here? Not just here in Giza, but within the entire colony?"

"You don't want to know. You shouldn't know. You should live your life in ignorance and bliss. Don't worry about anything. Go back to Norgen. Don't question anything. Live, Amia. Live." Water streamed down his cheeks, his eyes pleading with her even more than his voice was.

Still, Amia did not move. She wanted to do something, to help. She was sick of vague responses and wanted concrete answers. She couldn't help him, she knew that. She had to try again. "Please, at least tell me exactly what you did to end up here," she pleaded.

"I've told you already – instigating colony unrest. I don't know why. Agents just showed up one night in my bedroom and dragged me off to Giza. I'm a dead man, that's something I've known since the moment I was arrested. Don't let my fate become yours. Get out now!"

Amia snapped her head away from his gaze, wishing there were something more she could do. When she brought her head back up to look at Fredriksen, standing behind him was a tall, blond haired Gizan escort. His clothing and demeanor were identical to those of Goren, except that this escort wore a red band around his left bicep and a red beret atop his head.

Amia felt the urge to flee, but it was too late. There would be no getting away from him. Besides, he was close enough to bump her uplink ID and surely already had her registered in the system.

"This level is restricted. How did you get down here? Where is your supervisor?"

Amia's mouth was dry and her mind went completely blank. She stood there gawking, seeing but not processing the escort's presence before her.

She knew lying wouldn't work, nor would playing naïve. She fumbled through a half-truth instead. "I know Mr. Fredriksen from home. I saw him earlier and I've been trailing him ever since. His daughter's been extremely worried about him."

Fredriksen didn't have a daughter.

The guard may or may not have known that factoid, but regardless, it was clear that he did not buy her story. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. "You," pointing toward Fredriksen, "Back to work. You," glaring right at Amia, "are with me."

He dragged her through the maze of storage units. Amia didn't know what to do; she was completely helpless. Her mother had warned her that some Interns never return from the Stage.

She should have listened.

She was about to become one of those Interns.

***

To continue reading about Amia's adventure, grab Lunar One from Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07D6CYD42.