Dome City Kids (The Emergence)
The long sleep comes for everyone. Written for the Iron Age Media writing prompt "The Emergence".
The classroom has walls of bare concrete, uncovered wooden floorboards and not a single window, nor a sliver of light. The boys are squashed into their desks, facing the front in silence. A man is pacing back and forth around a spinning hologram stretching from the floor to the ceiling and alive with machinery manoeuvring long tubes into circular racks around the middle of each floor. The man points to one of the floors, the hologram turns fuzzy around his finger and separates into red, green and blue.
“This is where I was” the man exclaims. He walks around the front of the hologram, the dim grey light emanating from it glitters on a neat row of medals along his blue blazer with a single missing button on the left side.
“Does anybody know how long I slept for?” He looks around the class, some of the boys avert their gaze, Arnold shuffles in his seat and the man points at him “You, how old are you son?”
“Erm, Six… er, sixteen” he stutters.
“Sixteen. I slept for 100 years. That’s almost, seven times longer than you’ve been alive”.
The boys suddenly sit up, a few mumble at the back of the room, as Arnold’s mouth drops slightly agape. “A century. A century of duty. Duty to the colony and duty to my fellow man. Each one of you here today, may one day be called to fulfil your duty. To sleep, so that others may live.”
“How old are you?” a boy exclaims from the front row.
“technically young man, I’m 154 years old.”
“Whoa”
“one fifty?”
“Holy hell”
The man smiles, revelling in the boys fascination as the classroom fills with chatter. Then, a question pierces through the noise.
“Have you seen the outside?” The room falls silent, and his smile withers.
“Ahem. Well… No I’ve never seen the outside. Nobody has set foot beyond the dome for six hundred years.”
“Whats outside?” asks another boy. The man coughs a few times, a sharp and heavy cough that heaves his whole chest.
“The outside, is a very dangerous place. Freezing winds that can bite off your fingers in an instant, toxic clouds that will make your eyes bleed and fumes will rot your lungs”.
The teacher in the corner, a younger gentleman coughs to get the mans attention. He notices the stricken faces on the boys.
“Ahem. Excuse me. But, we’re safe and sound right here inside the dome and that’s why, when called we all do our duty and sleep down below, so our community may stand the test of time” The teacher turns on the lights.
“Thank you lieutenant Carter, so class, bright and early tomorrow. I’ll see you then, and don’t forget the homework is due, please turn it this time, I can in fact put all of you in detention”. A siren sounds in the corridor outside and the teacher throws open the door. The boys begin to filter out, Arnold shuffling along with the crowd until they disperse into the street outside. While all the others head left into the city, Arnold swings right towards a dimly lit street.
“Arny!” he turns around to see who’s shouting. A group of three boys, one short and plump, one with a messy tie and a tall boy with ruffled black hair puckering his lips in the air and squashing his cheeks together, making kissing noises at Arny from across the street.
“Off to your girlfriend Arny” Arnold shakes his head and walks away.
“Give her a kiss for us will ya!” another boy shouts.
“yeh, tell her she left her socks at my place”. Arnold rolls his eyes while the boys chatter fades into the distance.
“Socks you weirdo. What’s wrong with you”.
“Is that what you do, you go round smelling girls feet”
“Shut up”.
Arnold winds through the streets, some wide and dark, some cramped but bright, each however as quiet as the next. The twisting mess of concrete protrusions jutting and poking in every direction means that sound hardly travels in the city. Nowhere can you see more than 30 feet without an apartment block grafted to the side of a building, or a wall of transformers hanging precariously overhead. Every where is a tangle of cables crossing this way and that like a spiders web wrapped around every building, leading to every light and window and sign that glows outside of every quiet café and every solemn stairwell. This is the dome city, a peaceful place, where the air makes you cough and light comes and goes.
A short while later, he walks through a small clearing in front of a building that’s set back from the street. An old building, made of stone rather than concrete. Two tall windows flank a black wooden door and a row of rusty iron railings guard an area of concrete painted green. A few girls in their school uniforms are still hanging around inside the door. Arnold looks down and hurries past.
He finally glimpses the edge of the city. He stops at a narrow gap between two buildings, too cramped for a grown man to fit through, but not tight enough to stop Arnold. He takes off his backpack and shimmies into the space. It narrows further as he presses through and the wall begins scrape against his chest. Finally, just as the gap is at its tightest, he slips out of the other side and into a tunnel along the edge of the dome.
The tunnel is dark except for an occasional shaft of light beaming between the buildings. He clamours over pipes and steel beams, shimmying past boarded windows and jumping from ledges until he arrives at a shelter made of old sheets strung between the crisscrossing metal beams.
Parting the sheets, he shuffles across the floor on his knees, feeling along the edge of the shelter, finding only tattered cushions, until his hand finds a lantern which he hangs from the ceiling, filling the cosy little shelter with a flickering warm light.
Suddenly, somebody grabs him from behind and lashes their arms around his neck. He falls over, then grabs their arm and throws them onto the floor beside him. Zaila tumbles across the den and lands on some cushions, laughing and smiling.
“Don’t be so rough, I’m littler than you” she leans over and thumps him on the arm.
“Ouch” he says Flatley. She thumps him a little harder. “Alright, I’ll be nice”.
“You are nice”, she whispers, pulling one of the pillows under her head, her blue eyes staring at him as the lantern flickers. “You had the colonel today didn’t you”.
“Lieutenant”. Arnold puffs up one of the pillows and lays on his back.
“Same difference”. Zaila rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling. “Did he tell you about the long sleep”.
“A hundred years. It’s a long time”.
“Yeh”, Zaila whispers.
“Why do we do it?” Arnold quips while scratching at a picture carved into the cieling.
“He told us that people eat too much. So when there’s too many people we have to put some away”.
“Put them away?”
“Yeh… like, if you make too many lightbulbs, you don’t throw away the ones you don’t need, you put some in storage until you need them. We’ve made too many people, so some have to go into storage.” She reaches up and brushes her fingers across the carvings, some just doodles, stick figures with round heads and big smiles, holding hands with wobbly lines like a child might sketch. Others are intricate and detailed, one of which is a little round bird with a tuft on its head.
“A hundred years. I can’t even imagine it” Arnold says. “Stuck in a little tube underground for… How long is a hundred years? It must be older than my parents were, surely.”
“Probably” her voice cracks.
“I won’t be around in a hundred years, that’s for sure”.
“You won’t”, she says.
Arnold looks over at her, the light glints in her eyes. He holds her hand, which seems draw attention from the carvings. She grips his hand tight.
“Hey, do you want to go to the overlook?” he asks. She yanks her hand away and sits up, turning her back on him.
“Zaila?”, he says softly.
“Last one there’s a rotten egg” she shouts while leaping out of the den.
“Oi, cheat!”. Arnold clamours outside and runs after her.
They bound along the edge of the dome, leaping over pipes ducking under beams, twisting through tight bends and bouncing across steel gantries.
“keep up” she shouts back.
Then suddenly, she stops. Catches up and realises what’s she’s looking at. One of the floor panels has collapsed. He stares down into the darkness, beams and pipes crisscrossing above a single sliver of light at the bottom.
“What do you thinks down there?” she asks. Arnold looks at the gap and judges whether they can jump it.
“Let’s go back, I don’t think we can get to the overlook this way”.
“I’m going for a look”, she lowers herself into the hole.
“Hold on, wait”
“come on, you scared?”
He kneels beside the opening, watching Zaila climb down the steel beams.
“I don’t think this a good idea”.
“You wait there then”. The further she sinks, the more obliged he feels to follow. Eventually he gives in, and carefully makes his way down.
He reaches the bottom and sees Zaila standing in a doorway against a bright light.
“Zaila. I think we should go back”. He looks over her shoulder and sees a streak of bright light across the floor beaming through a crack in the far wall. Sitting in this streak of light, is a single flower growing in the dirt with bright pink petals and a handful of leaves carefully positioned just inside the light.
“How do you think it go here?” she asks.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it down here” he tugs on her arms but she yanks free and kneels beside the flower.
“What type do you think it is?, I know, I’ll show Mrs Smith.” She reaches for the flower then recoils, “Wait, How long do you think it’s been here”? Arnold shuffles closer and looks at the light. Then he realises where it’s coming from. A crack in the outer wall of the dome. The light is from outside. He hurries to Zaila who holds him back “Be careful, you’ll tread on it”.
He grabs her hand and points at the crack on the wall.
“That’s the outside, I don’t think we should stay here”
She leaps to her feet and steps closer to the crack. Arnold holds her back but tepidly enough that she slips from his grasp, “What are you doing?”
“I want to see the outside”.
“I think that’s a bad idea”.
“We’re already here aren’t we?”.
“Just don’t get too close”.
The light is warm against her face. Her eyes take time to adjust to the brightness and when they do, she peaks through the crack with one eye.
“Arnold, come quick” he hurries over and she pushes him in front. “look”. He feels the warmth on his face. He hesitates, putting his eye close to the crack, recoiling a few times as the intense light hurts his eyes. It’s too bright to see anything. He looks back at Zaila.
“Can we please just go”, she stops smiling and Arnold pushes past her. She hesitates to follow him he beckons her from around the corner. Then she runs after him glance over her shoulder as the light disappears around the corner.
Arnold shimmies between the buildings and pops into the street. Zaila shimmies through behind him, scraping against the wall.
“I hardly fit”. he grabs her hand and pulls her the last few feet the coarse concrete pulling threads out of her blazer. “I’m sure the walls are getting closer” she says while dusting off her shirt.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow? After school?” Zaila looks at him, then quickly looks away as if a second thought passed through her head. Her mouth opens, as if about to speak, but silence. “Are you alright?” She closes her eyes and hugs him.
“I’m alright”.
“Maybe we should tell someone about the crack? She looks up at his eyes, kisses him on the cheek, the walks away.
“See you tomorrow? She stops, then whimpers
“Yeh, see you tomorrow”, then walks away without looking back.
The boys dorm is a dusty old place without any lights of its own, writing, eating, sleeping and playing is all done by the light of a flickering lamp post which shines through the narrow windows. The boys are settled in. Joseph, the tall one with black ruffled hair is sat on his bed tapping at a games-console which bleeps and pings. Wayne, his messy tie still slung over his shoulder is sat on his bed reading a magazine and Peter, the small and plump one is laying on his creaky bed, sobbing into a pillow.
Arnold bounds into the dorm and every head turns to stare at him. Jospeh makes kissing noises at him. Arnold gives him two fingers and walks past, dumping his backpack on the floor to the sound of cackling laughter from joseph who finds it all very amusing. Arnold changes into something more comfortable. He throws off his school shirt and puts on a baggy orange jumper.
“Have you lot done the homework?” he asks, causing Joseph to drop his console and groan. Arnold looks at Wayne who shakes his head and goes back to reading. Arnold whips a piece of paper out of his backpack and tosses it onto the bed next to him.
“Copy time” He shouts to the room as a couple of other boys peek over their bunks to see if they can sneak a look. “Pete, did you do the homework?” Pete doesn’t answer, only now does Arnold realise is crying. “Pete, what’s up?”, Joseph hobbles across the room with his homework in hand and starts scribbling down the answers.
“Man, it’s his sisters, she’s off for the long sleep” Joseph says.
“Oh shit. Pete, I’m so sorry”
Wayne looks up from his homework
“Yeh, all the girls are off aren’t they?” Arnold thinks for a moment, the words have to twirl in his head for a few seconds before it hits him.
“You said all the girls?” Joseph looks up from Arnold’s homework and sees the look on Arnold’s face.
“Oh shit” he hits Wayne on the arm.
“What?”, he hits him again.
“Dude… she didn’t tell him”, Wayne finally stops and looks at Arnold whose gaze is darting between them both.
“What do you mean? The girls?” Arnold quips.
“Man” Joseph groans. “It’s all of them. All the girls, their closing the dorm. The girls are all going for the long sleep.” Arnold swallows, his chest feels tense.
“When…” he coughs. “when do they leave?”
“Man… they leave tonight”.
Arnold grabs his backpack and bounds out of the door. He races through the winding streets, past the school, through the alley, past the old building with the tower and swings down towards the girls dorm. When he gets there, a crowd of people has gathered outside around a queue of busses parked along the road. A group of girls all dressed in their night gowns are lined up along the pavement as police officers stand either side. A bus pulls up at the front and the officers usher them inside. Arnold pushes through the crowd and looks around.
“Zaila” he shouts and then he spots her, waiting at the back draped in her gown and staring at the floor, a round stuffed bird with a tuft on its head clenched in her hands. She wipes a tear off of her cheek. “Zaila!” she spots him and runs past the queue and leaps into his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I, I…” the chief spots the two of them and walks over.
“Are you alright?” he asks, in a soft voice. Zaila breaks into tears gargling out a stream of words sounding something like “don’t want to sleep”. The chief rests a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s alright, lots of people go through it, and its not scary at all. I went through it. See?” the chief pats his chest, “didn’t do me any harm. Fit as a fiddle. You’ll wake up years from now and it’ll feel just like you got out of bed, you won’t even notice it.” Zaila appeals to the guard.
“Please, please let me stay. I don’t want to go”.
“I’m sorry young lady. Its not my decision to make”.
Arnold takes her hand and looks at her, their eyes lock and he gently wipes the tears away from her cheek. The chief steps away to give them space.
“I don’t want to go. Please don’t let me go” she whispers as she grips Arnold’s arms hand. Another bus pulls up to the pavement and the queue is starting to disappear, only a few dozen of the girls are left standing on the pavement. “Arnold, I don’t want to go”. The chief leans closer,
“Young lady, I’m sorry but we must get you on this bus”.
“Zaila, I think you have to go”.
“Why do I have to?”, Arnold sighs, unsure what to say as a tear streaks down his face “I’ll be in a tube. Underground for the rest of my life”
“It’s only a hundred years, and the world will still be here when you get back”.
“But you won’t be” she whimpers. A crowd has started to form around them, some of the other girls have rushed over. A young girl quips at the guard, “why do we have to go? What’s for?”, while clutching a small teddy bear in her arms.
“Well, young lady, the colony is too small for all of us at once, some of us have to do our duty so that life can go on for the rest, otherwise their wouldn’t be enough food to go around”
“Liar!” Zaila screams at the top of her voice to exasperated gasps from the crowd, before a hush falls over them. She realises that everyone is looking at her. “He’s lying. Theres plenty of food. I’ve seen it”, the chief steps closer and some of the other officers starting walking towards them.
“Now young lady, who told you that?”
“I saw it! With my own eyes. Theres plenty of food, nobody has to sleep” She holds the stuffed bird close to her chest as she looks at the gathering crowd. The guards exchange confused looks.
“I’ve seen the food, there’s plenty. They keep us in here, stuck in this place then they cart us off to who knows where.”
“Young lady!”, the chief grabs her arm and she yanks herself free.
“Outside the walls… that’s right. Outside where they never let us go”
Arnold grabs her arm and tries to hush her down. “you believe me? You saw it as well?”
“Alright, this has gone far enough”. The chief pulls Arnold away and lunges for Zaila, she kicks him on the shin then rushes into the crowd. “Stop her” the chief bellows. Arnold rushes after her.
“Zaila. Wait!”.
He chases her through the streets, through the alleys past the schools and the shops and cafes. She bounds around the corners, weaving through the twisting streets until she finally throws herself between the buildings, squashing through the tight gap tearing strips and threads from her thin gown as she claws her way to the other side and into the dark tunnel. Arnold follows her through. The guards stop at the opening and can’t go any further,
“dammit”, shouts the chief “find another way through”.
Arnold rushes after her, through the den, over the beams, round the pipes and down down down into deep dark recesses at the edge of the city where he finds Zaila, kneeling beside the flower looking into the light.
“Zaila… You’ll get in trouble”.
“You don’t believe me. You didn’t look” She leaps to her feet and bolts over to the crack. She tears away a chunk of rusted metal, slashing her fingers on the sharp edges. Arnold drags her away, she struggles and pushes against him.
“Are you insane, what the hell is wrong with you?” he screams.
“Their lying, it’s a lie” she starts hitting him “there’s no food shortage there’s food out there”.
“There’s nothing out there”
“Your wrong” she kicks him on the shin and pushes him into the dirt.
“Zaila” he stands up noticing a streak of blood across his arm, “Zaila stop”. She does. The hole is bigger, the room is brighter and in the light, she notices the slashes on her hands, and smudges of blood on her night gown.
“Zaila, there’s nothing on the other side, we have to go back”
“Who told you that?” she says softly. “Who told you it’s dangerous?” our whole lives we’ve been told there’s nothing outside. They ship us off to some warehouse and nobody ever sees us again. Your parents, my parents, how many people Arnold, how many people have they lied to”. Suddenly the sound of heavy boots rattles through the tunnel. She rushes back to the crack and starts tearing into the wall. She finally finds the edge of the rust where the metal is solid, and pulls on a heavy sheet of steel. It bends and creeks, but she can’t move it. Suddenly a voice bellows out and flashlight shines through a wall of pipes.
“There they are” the chief shouts,
“There trying to open the bloody dome, stop them” shouts another. The thundering of boots gets closer and closer. “help me” Zaila screams, Arnold doesn’t know what to do.
“What if there’s nothing out there”,
“There is, Arnold… I promise, please” his gaze darts between Zaila and the guards.
“Stop her” one of them wails. Arnold charges towards Zaila and grabs the steel panel. He presses against the wall with his foot. It creeks and it moans, before snapping away from the wall, the two of them tumbling back into the dirt as a brilliant white light washes away the darkness. The officers storm into the room. They grab Arnold as Zaila clamours into the light. He kicks and punches at the guards, striking one on the chin. “Zaila” he shouts, while lunging and clawing at the officers, wailing at them to get off until he realises that the officers have stopped struggling. Instead, their eyes are glued to hole in the wall. He slips out of their grasp and rubs the dust from his eyes. He crawls forward and stands beside the chief, who takes of his hat, his eyes wide with bewilderment.
“My god” his voice quivering as he says it. Arnold looks out, and sees Zaila, standing on a bed of soft green leaves, a halo of light beaming past her brilliant white gown. He steps outside. She looks back and takes his hand. He looks at the trees, and the birds fluttering between them. Little furry creatures scurrying between the bushes. An odd fellow with small and colourful wings flutters past his face and lands in Zaila’s hair. Then a small and fluffy bird with a tuft on its head lands on a branch beside him. The guards walk out behind them, awestricken as they stare into the canopy above. Zaila wraps her arms around Arnold.
“I knew you’d believe me” she whispers. He reaches towards the little bird, which fuzzy
watches him from the branch. He runs his hand across its feathers and the bird turns fuzzy around his finger, the separates into red, green and blue.