Creation (21 page)

The walls smelled of fresh paint over soot. The paint hadn’t stayed fresh looking. Brightly colored graffiti covered seventy percent of every surface. As they passed doors—some open to the life within, some closed to prying eyes—faces of Tobes materialized in the walls. Each shook its head in answer to Ed’s questioning look.

Joshua and Ellie flanked Sam as Jess stayed close to his back. The two businessmen would be left to their own protection.

A familiar queasiness gripped Sam’s stomach.
Run. Just grab Jess and run.
But she wouldn’t hear of it. And making a scene in front of people who’d be more inclined to jump in than break up a fight would only hasten the conflict he hoped to avoid.

“As a history lesson, we’ll be moving back in time as we go downstairs. This is the twenty-first floor and our most recent attempt at helping,” Joshua said.

“And how’d that work out for you?” The self-righteous tone of Jacques’s voice got on Sam’s nerves.

“Riots. But we were only taking responsibility and giving them what they wanted,” Joshua said.

“Taking responsibility
for their lives
and giving them
what you thought they wanted
,” Jacques countered.

Jess’s voice cut through the noise. “Just tell me what happened. I can do without the commentary.”

Ellie pointed at a bare section of freshly painted wall. “At our request, the tenants formed an association. They voted. Remodeling the building was their number-one desire. They didn’t want to do it themselves, didn’t want us to police anything. They just wanted better living conditions. And I still say if we could have done the whole building all at once, it might have worked.”

“You can’t instantly redo an entire structure with people still living in it,” Jacques argued. “People aren’t electronic impulses that can exist just anywhere. We need protection from the elements. And fixing up living spaces takes time. And a lot of money.”

Jess raised her hand for quiet. “So you fixed up this floor. Then what happened?”

“We chose the most responsible tenants to move up here,” Joshua said. “The ones who’d taken care of their apartments and shown respect for the building. Then we tried to train them to help work on the next floor down. Vocational education so they could find jobs in construction.”

It made sense. Sam had never experienced this level of despair, but he’d lived in his fair share of rundown buildings. If someone had offered him the opportunity to make something of himself, he’d like to believe he’d have jumped at the chance.

No one spoke for an uncomfortable length of time.

Sam turned to Ellie. “You’re the one who expresses feelings the most. You might as well just let us have it.”

“A societal caste system developed. Those on this top floor were seen as being privileged while those who had been here longer, or suffered the worst, thought they were more deserving of these luxuries and opportunities. Two major groups, gangs really, developed. They were called the twenty-firsts and the sixes, named for the uppermost and lowest occupied floors. The conflict was called the floor wars, though
riot
would be more accurate.” Ellie kept her head down as she spoke.

“And this all took place in this one building?” Jess asked.

Joshua formed a box with his hands to represent the complex. “It was a self-contained conflict that couldn’t be put out from an external force. The only way in was via the roof or water level. Not that it mattered. The police were the one group hated by both sides. So it wasn’t like the twenty-firsts were willing to accept assistance even if it was in their best interests. To do so would alienate them from the rest of Jersey City.”

“How long did this last? And what finally ended it?” Jess asked.

“It ended a couple months ago,” Lud said. “The two sides realized they weren’t the enemy—we were. Something like forty people lost their lives, and we still don’t know the extent of the property damages, all in the space of three weeks.”

Sam hoped this hadn’t been the height of the Tobes’ attempt at helping humanity.
How am I supposed to help you?
All he got was silence.
That wasn’t a rhetorical question. You must have some idea for what I can do.

Give us guidance. We don’t know what we’re doing.

A passage about the blind leading the blind flashed in Sam’s brain, but he did his best not to focus on it for fear the Tobes might lose all hope.

Jacques wiped his hand over a section of wall then inspected his dirty fingers. “We should have stayed out of it from the beginning.”

“And done what with all Sam’s money? Invest it? There’s more than enough sunk into stocks already. Don’t we have an obligation to try and help the less fortunate?” Joshua expressed more emotion than Sam had expected.

“It was a bad real-estate deal. You were just trying to shore up the market,” Jacques countered.

“People are going to start losing vast amounts invested in the real-estate market. We’re not trying to help everyone, just the building owners who can’t afford to take the hit,” Joshua said.

Jacques frowned. “So that’s why you wouldn’t buy my beachfront condos? You knew the megahurricanes were coming, and you did nothing. Did you think I could afford to lose some of my wealth?”

“You could—you have to admit it. Those condos were never meant as anything other than a way to build your portfolio.” Lud winked at Jacques. “And you weren’t the only one to have their investment swept out to sea last winter.”

“Still, it’s partially my company. You’d think the Tobes would look out for their owners first. If there’s enough to keep buying up these low-cost housing nightmares from investment funds, there ought to be enough to save us too.”

Sam couldn’t help but think the man in the high-priced suit had little to complain about.

“Those funds were pushed on people who’d been told their retirement would be protected,” Joshua explained. “We have access to every person’s net worth. We’re only trying to bail out those who’d find it hard to survive.”

Sam thought about his parents. They would have been the prime demographic for those stockbrokers. Not that he wanted to know about their situation. They would have been told he’d died so many years ago on the adventure his father had condemned as foolish. Best to stay dead to that whole aspect of his life. He had enough responsibilities without becoming the rich, long-lost relative who could save family and friends from the lives they’d chosen. He felt sure they’d want to see him, to know what he’d become. But being the richest, most powerful man in the world was hardly his doing. He couldn’t face what they might say or expect. Sam wondered how many directions one man could be pulled without breaking.

Jess threw up both hands this time. “I don’t care about those investors. Tell me more about the people in this building.”

Ed opened the door to the stairwell. The smell of generations of human habitation nearly knocked Sam back onto the top floor. Jacques hesitated at the entrance to the lower levels. “Lovely smell, and it only gets worse. I suppose I’ll have to burn this suit tonight.”

Sam clutched Jess’s hand. She might not have hit the arrogant ass yet, but it wasn’t a fight he wanted to tempt.

He hadn’t expected the twentieth floor to be that different from the one above; after all, remodeling had begun before the riots. He’d been wrong in that assessment.

Walls charred black from fires contrasted with newly replaced white doors. Some bore graffiti, but most reminded Sam of an old-fashioned medical institution with their heavy metal frames and locks. People could be seen through the steel-mesh windows embedded in the new entrances. Their wide, fearful, suspicious eyes watched the strangers walking their halls.

How did I become the bad guy to these people?
But even if he’d come to Earth when the Tobes first got started, Sam doubted he’d have done anything differently than they had.

Jess stopped walking, halting the procession. “I’ve heard enough secondhand. Ed, find me someone I can talk to. There has to be one family on this floor who wouldn’t want to kill us all.”

“Tall order,” the guardian whispered.

A lanky Tobe in his late teens leaned against Room 2047. “You sure you want to do this?”

Ed didn’t bother looking in the dwelling. “Not my call. But with your help, that’ll be four of us to protect the four humans. And if it’s just a mother and son living here, we should be okay. For a short time anyway.”

The teen nodded to Sam as the door opened. “I flashed them a message that you’re with social services. As always, they’ll only see the four of you. They have no idea we exist. Keep it that way.”

Jess pressed to the front of the group. “We’re not here to judge you.” The woman who sat on the couch kept her hands in her lap, ready for inspection. “Far from it. You were picked at random to give us some insight into life in 99 Hudson Street. But if we’re intruding, or if we make you uncomfortable, we’ll leave.”

The woman slowly raised her tired eyes. Black smudges tinged her cheeks and hair. Sam had trouble guessing her age. Midthirties to early forties maybe?

Twenty-seven
came into his mind.

She nodded to Jess. “It’s okay. Not like I have anything else to do.”

Jess reached out her hand. “I’m Jess, and this is Sam, my husband. And the other two are just going to stand quietly in the corner.”

“I’m Huian. My son’s name is Lei. He’s sleeping in the corner, so if we can keep it quiet, that would be nice. And if those two men aren’t going to be part of the conversation, I’d rather they left. I don’t trust men in suits.” The woman’s soft voice contrasted sharply with her surroundings.

Sam didn’t see a door in the small studio, other than the main entrance. The kitchen consisted of an old burner and a food replicator that he’d have been hesitant to use. The black marks around the dispenser indicated it was more apt to light something on fire than provide nourishment. He chose not to focus too much on the bathroom, which lacked any door for privacy. The main room, bedroom, and dining area held a couch, chair, and entertainment view screen. It took him a moment to catch sight of the preteenage boy sleeping in the corner.

With no windows or wall view screens to display the outside world, the room stood as yet another accusation in Sam’s mind as he remembered the 360-degree view from his office.
This building should be a world away from New York, not just across the river. How can such economic discrepancy exist in such a short distance?
he asked.

The wealthy had need of the poor. Waitresses, cab drivers, garbage collectors, and other services were jobs no one else would do. Once we freed people from those occupations through automation, the economically disadvantaged lost what little income they had. We were trying to help.

Sam thought “I was just trying to help” would be a fitting epitaph to his life
.

Jess’s glare at Lud and Jacques drove them out the door. “Not a problem. I’m sure they’ll be happy to leave us in peace.” She then turned back to their hostess. “That’s a lovely dress. Did you make it yourself?”

Huian ran her hands along the brightly colored fabrics of her clothing. “I do a little sewing, mostly from old, discarded clothes. There’s a people’s market on the tenth floor. We exchange what we have or what we can offer.”

“So you exist without money? Just bartering goods and services?” Sam asked.

“No, we all receive an allowance. No one knows where it comes from.” The woman looked down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap.

Jess placed her hand on the woman’s knee. “It’s okay, really. We’re here to help if we can.”

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful. The money helps. It does. But so many on the lower floors just use it for drugs. I won’t let Lei go below the ninth floor. It’s nothing but killing, raping, and drugs down there.” Tears welled in the woman’s eyes.

“And you blame that on the allowance?” Sam wondered why anyone would object to free money.

“It helps me and my son. We’d have trouble getting by without the help. But it only keeps us going; it doesn’t change anything. Every day, Lei is accosted by kids who want him to join one of their gangs. The people’s market is the first attempt at creating something positive out of this abyss. Without that to hold onto, and my son, I might be tempted to sink into that den of depravity of the lower floors.”

“What can we do to help?” Jess patted her breast pocket, a move Sam recognized as checking to make sure her ID card was at hand. He feared she was about to do something foolish.

Just spending more money can’t be the answer.

“Give me a different life. One where I hadn’t turned my back on opportunities. All those little moments I didn’t realize wouldn’t come again, where I could have been brave and chosen to grow instead of playing it safe.” The woman’s laugh sounded more like a cry. “
Play it safe
—now there’s a deception. Keep playing it safe, and this is where you end up.”

Jess took the woman’s hand. “I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

B
ack out in the hallway
, Jess turned to Joshua. “I’m assuming the allowance Huian referred to was another attempt at helping?”