The Sun Dwellers (21 page)

“The day I turned fifteen,” I start, “was one of the worst days of my life.” I look around, checking for reactions. The faces are like stone, frozen on me, not giving away anything. Even Trevor’s managed to suspend his amusement for the moment.

“I woke up ready for a day of presents and cakes and a party, but instead, my father was waiting by my bedside. ‘Today I have something to show the entire family,’ he said. ‘Something you’ll all one day be a part of.’ By that point in my life my father and I had already grown miles apart, but I didn’t hate him. Not yet. Not until later that day.”

I pause, breathe in, breathe out, choose my next words carefully.

“None of us knew what to expect—not even my mom. Killen was excited, only thirteen at that time, I was curious but wary, and my mom was very quiet, like she knew something bad was coming. My father was himself: stern, gregarious, intimidating. ‘After this you become a Nailin,’ he said to me as we left the presidential buildings, slapping me on the back. He didn’t ask if I wanted to be a Nailin.

“A black car took us through the city, past the statue of the first Nailin President, past the shopping district, past the train station, until we reached an ordinary black stone building in a corner of the capital that I’d never seen before. The security was the tightest I’d ever been subjected to. Even with my father in the car, they searched it, checked all of our identification, as if we were somehow Nailin family look-a-likes. It was crazy. It’s the type of thing that would normally set my father off, but he was calm and patient through the entire thing. He even said that all the procedures were to be strictly enforced, no matter what, under his orders.”

“Why all the rigmarole?” Trevor asks.

“There was something hidden inside that no one could ever know about—not even the security guards. Even my father’s family didn’t know about that place, at least not until that day. Only my father’s most trusted advisors and top scientists knew about it. Oh, and those sun dwellers, moon dwellers, and star dwellers who were recruited to participate in the project.”

“Project?” Adele says, her hand tightening on mine. “What project?”

“And since when was your father interested in input from moon or star dwellers in anything he did?” Trevor asks.

I put a hand up. “Please. I’ll get to all that in time.”

Adele murmurs, “Sorry,” while Trevor leans back and motions for me to continue.

“Where was I? Oh, yes, security. We weren’t done yet. After parking the vehicle in a covered lot full of black cars, we went through a physical pat down by a guard each, a metal detector, and then a chemical identifier. And that was before even entering the building.

“Once inside, we filed down a hall, and then rode a lift to the eighteenth floor, which was marked as RESTRICTED on the panel—my father had to use a key to access it.

“The eighteenth floor was like nothing I’d ever seen, full of men and women in white coats running around doing who knows what.”

A few eyebrows go up, but I rush on, not wanting any questions just yet. “One of them—a bald guy with a nametag that identified him as Dr. Markus Kane—recognized my father and came to greet us. He introduced himself, welcomed us to the
Nailin
Center
, and then led us through a maze of desks and expensive-looking lab equipment.

“A door at the other end of the floor provided access to this crazy bridge. It was glass on all sides, including the floor and ceiling, and shot out of the building, high above the edge of the city, and disappeared into the side of the cavern. I was so shocked at the feeling of flying as we walked through the glass passage, I didn’t notice what was at the other end until we were right on top of it.”

“Let me guess, another bald white-coated scientist?” Trevor says, curling a lip.

“Close. A vault, complete with a card reading device and a little black panel that read fingerprints. Like I said before, this place spared no expense on security, and we were apparently headed for the most secure area of all.”

“And you say the vault led into the side of the cavern, as in out of the city?” Adele asks.

“That’s right,” I say.

“So basically a hidden cave on the outskirts of the city.”

“That’s correct. The only way in or out of this cave was through the black building and the glass walkway. Anyway, the scientist inserted his ID card in a slot, stuck a finger on the reader, and then turned a huge wheel, which opened the door.

“The cave was completely different to the eighteenth floor. The walls were rough, the lighting dim, and only three people manned the station, each of whom snapped to attention as soon as we entered.

“Although Dr. Kane introduced them to us, I can’t remember their names anymore. But I can remember what they did. They controlled access to the Cylinder.”

“The Cylinder? What is that—like a big tube?” Trevor asks.

“Pretty much,” I say. “But a big freaking tube, made from concrete. It rose from the floor all the way to the ceiling. There was a hatch cut into the side of the tube.”

“So they had three people just to control access to this tube thingy?” Adele asks.

“That’s right. I’m sure they did other things, too, but if anyone was scheduled to use the Cylinder, I guess these people would be there. Before we entered the tube, we were each given metal bracelets to wear on our arms. They snapped on our wrists, clasped so tight we couldn’t move them at all. The only way to get them off was with an electronic device that controlled the locking mechanism.”

“What were they for?” Adele asks.

“They told us two things: First—to track us. Second—as a symbol of our authorization to enter the next secure area.”

“Another secure area?” Trevor says. “This all seems just a little over the top. Even for sun dwellers.”

“It was pretty nuts to me too,” I admit.

Tawni asks her first question: “Why would they need to track you?”

“Everything was just very controlled. They wanted to know where everyone was at any given time. In case anything happened, I guess.”

I look around, glad everyone—except Roc, who’s just watching, his lips pursed—is engaged and participating. Somehow hearing other people’s voices is helping with my nerves. I’m in a rhythm now, the words flowing freely, my mouth on autopilot. My heart rate has even slowed to a seemingly normal pace. But as soon I realize I’m closing in on the moment of truth, my blood starts pumping again, and my chest vibrates to the
thud, thud…thud, thud…thud, thud…
of my beating heart knocking against my bones.

I continue slowly, trying to delay. “We went into the hatch and the door closed behind us. My mother had been silent for most of the trip, until now. ‘Where the
hell
are you taking us?’ she said. It was the first time I’d ever heard her curse, and I could feel a surge of anger, or maybe fear, coming off of her.”

“And she never got angry,” Roc adds, finally breaking his silent streak.

“Which scared me,” I say. “My father wouldn’t answer her, just kept saying, ‘You’ll see. Just wait.’ He wasn’t smiling exactly, but he did wear his typical arrogance like a cloak that day. As usual, he knew he had all the power, and we were forced to cooperate with his every whim.

“The pod started moving. It was very hard to tell which direction it was moving—sometimes it felt like we were dropping, other times rising, and sometimes moving to either side, maybe even diagonally. It’s very possible we were moving in all different directions. There was nowhere to sit, so we were all stuck standing for about thirty minutes, until we finally felt the pod start to slow.

“My mother demanded to know where we were, even going so far as to grab my father’s shirt. I’d seen her argue with my father before, but never raise a hand to him. He slammed her against the side of the pod—you should have seen his face, all red, veins popping from his forehead. ‘Don’t ruin this, woman!’ he yelled, and then slung her to the floor.”

I realize Adele is rubbing my hand with one of her fingers. There’s a tear in my eye but I don’t care. It’s for my mother and she can have it.

“I should have gone to her, comforted her, but I was too scared of my father, too scared of what he might do to me. I’ll never forgive myself for just standing there, watching my mom huddled on the floor.”

“You were just a kid,” Adele says.

“It was two years ago,” I say.

“You’ve changed a lot in two years,” she says, and despite having not known me when I was fifteen, she’s right. I squeeze her hand.

“Just finish, Tristan,” Roc encourages lightly.

“When the door opened it was dark and there were men in orange plastic suits with big clear bubbles over their heads. They had black guns and black boots. The way they charged into the hatch I thought they might shoot us, but they didn’t. First they checked our bracelets, scanned them with a handheld device. Then they escorted us from the pod into an alcove, using flashlights to guide us. We entered a monster tunnel. The tunnel kept getting brighter and brighter as we moved forward. By the end I was squinting.

“The passage led into a holding area, which we entered without the orange men, who closed a hydraulic air-lock door behind us, locking us into a glassed-in section of tunnel with showerheads all over the walls. ‘Prepare for detoxification,’ a voice droned, before the showerheads burst into life, spraying us with hot water that smelled a bit chemically. We still had all our clothes on and soon our tunics were sticking to our skin. When the water stopped, the door on the other side of the airlock opened, and men wearing black and gray uniforms entered, scanned our bracelets once more, and escorted us by the elbows to a room with two doors, one for women and one for men. My brother, father, and I took the right door, while my mom was forced to enter the left door alone.”

I pause, realizing my mouth is dry from speaking uninterrupted for so long. I hope someone has a question to break up my monologue, but no one does. They’re all just staring at me with eyes that want me to continue. Thankfully, Roc hands me a canteen and I’m able to swish some water around to moisten my tongue and lips.

“There were dry clothes in the changing rooms. We put them on and then met my mom back outside. She had new clothes on too.

“We went down another tunnel to where the men in uniforms were waiting, none of them having spoken a word to us since our arrival. Finally, one of them spoke, an older bearded guy. ‘Do you want to tell them anything before we head through?’ he asked my father. ‘No,’ was all my father said. ‘All right,’ the man said, handing us each a pair of sunglasses. ‘You’ll need these.’ Then he opened the door.”

The breath leaves my lungs. There’s tension in the room, as if all the air’s been sucked out, as everyone leans in closer. Adele’s fingers are no longer stroking my hand, but are frozen, waiting for me to speak. I take a final deep breath, feeling sudden and unexpected emotion well up in my eyes.

“We stepped onto Earth and the sun blinded us,” I say.

Adele

H
is words have no meaning to me. They’re just words. Either he’s not being very clear or I’ve been dumbstruck.

…stepped onto Earth?

…the sun blinded us?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Trevor says, ironically all joking filtered from his tone.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Tristan says, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen before.

“You walked ‘onto Earth’?” Tawni says. Evidently she’s having trouble with the wording too.

“Yes,” Tristan says, confirming the meaningless words.

“Like a pile of rocks or what?” I say.

“No, like
the
surface of the earth. You know, up above.”

A shiver runs up my spine. My head spins. I feel faint.
What?
I’m missing something. A punch line or a piece of information—like maybe I dozed off and didn’t catch a detail or two. But I know that’s not true; I was wide awake, riveted the whole time.

“That’s the biggest load of bat turds I’ve ever heard,” Trevor scoffs.

“It can’t be,” Tawni says heavily.

But Tristan’s ignoring them, his eyes boring into mine, his face clouded with concern, his eyes thick with emotion. He’s worried about my reaction. I realize I’ve pulled my hand back from his, a reflexive sign of separation.

“You’re saying you went above? To the surface of the earth?” I ask again, because I’m still not sure what I’m hearing.

Tristan nods.

Which means…

“Earth is safe again?” Tawni asks.

Still watching me, Tristan says, “Not exactly.”

“You should tell them everything your father told you,” Roc suggests.

My head is getting hot. Tristan is still staring at me and it’s starting to annoy me. Like what he’s telling us only affects me. My hands tighten and I tuck them at my sides.

“Tristan?” Roc says again when Tristan doesn’t respond.

“Why didn’t you tell us before?” I growl. “And don’t give me any of that crap about it not being the right time.”

“I was scared of how you would react,” Tristan says, his face a blank piece of paper.