Through a Mirror, Darkly Read online

  She watched Nelson for a few more moments, biting her lip as if she was considering saying more. But when she spoke, all she said was, “Well, I guess I’ll see you at the meeting this evening?” She made a motion to leave.

  “Wait.”

  Sylvia turned back toward him, her profile thrown into stark relief by the reflective glow of a row of monitors.

  “Would you, uh...would you like to grab something to eat in the commissary with me? We’re just about done here.”

  “Oh, great,” Nelson berated another poor soul. “We’ll never finish at this rate! Look at this mess. Look at it!”

  “I would love to,” Sylvia said, shooting him an apologetic smile. “Really. But I’m just on my way to check on Ben.”

  “Oh!” Edwin attempted a nonchalant shrug. “Sure, right. No problem. Hey, I’ll go with you. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Oh. Okay.”

  “Nelson!” Edwin called. “I’m going with Sylvia. Catch me on the comm if you need anything.”

  “It’s not like you were doing anything, anyway.” Nelson waved them off without bothering to look up. “But if you fancy pretending you were ever in charge to begin with, I’ll play along. Have fun, say hi to Ben for me.”

  They took the lift down to the basement and veered left, the serpentine but now familiar path to Pod Manufacturing quiet and still.

  Inside the department, it was a different story. They no longer manufactured pods, yet the whole place teemed with activity at all hours of the day and night. The discovery of the secret rooms deep beneath the city, with their thousands of pods and misshapen monsters, had made Pods the place to be; a hub of bustling scientists, budding engineers, programmers and mechanics. Everyone wanted to be the one to uncover the truth behind just what the Elves had been up to.

  So far, however, there were very few plausible conclusions.

  The entire effort was being spearheaded by Sylvia’s younger brother, Ben. He had been the one to discover the secret rooms and had ended up imprisoned in the Geothermal Plant as a result. Though he was down there just a few days before being rescued, the experience had aged him. He smiled less and spoke with more urgency. Edwin had assured Sylvia that it would pass, that the old Ben would break through, that he just needed time to process.

  But it had been six months and, on the whole, Ben had only grown more serious.

  Edwin and Sylvia entered Pods, skirting around various people in the crowded walkways. Sylvia wended her way through the long room gracefully, until they reached the back corner. A closed door marked the former supervisor’s office.

  She knocked once, and Ben’s voice answered.

  “Come in.”

  Ben sat alone, bent over a workstation in the dim yellow light that made his skin look pallid, frowning over a stubborn set of equations.

  He glanced up and offered Sylvia one of his rare smiles. It was brief, hardly a ghost of what it had once been.

  “Hey, Syl. Hey, Edwin. What are you guys doing down here?”

  Sylvia moved around the station and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you.” She planted a warm kiss on the crown of his head. “Just visiting. Whatcha working on?”

  Ben’s clothes were rumpled and it looked as though he hadn’t left the room for several days. The green glow from his workstation illuminated one side of his face, casting dark shadows that accentuated the hollows under his tired eyes. His hair, which had always been rather unkempt, was even worse than usual, sticking up at odd angles.

  “Compatibility issues. We haven’t found a way to network the pods yet, but I feel like I’m getting closer. The problem is a lot of the designs are so different. It seemed at first like it might not even be possible.”

  Ben cocked his head, frowning as a thought came to him. “You know, I bet that this place is the whole reason for the yearly evaluations.”

  Edwin’s curiosity got the best of him. “How’s that?”

  “Well, there are a lot of different variations of pods. Like, we’re talking hundreds. I think they would swap out the whole crew down here, staggering the change-out across the evaluations. Just to keep anyone from realizing how often they were changing things up.”

  Edwin pursed his lips, considering. “Makes sense, I guess. But why so many different types, anyway?”

  “Well, I expect because they had no idea what they were doing.”

  Edwin laughed, but Ben’s face remained solemn.

  “No, seriously. I think despite all these attempts, they hadn’t figured out quite how to achieve whatever it was that they were trying to achieve.”

  “And we still don’t know what that was, huh?” Sylvia asked.

  Ben looked as if she’d slapped him. “We’re all working on it, Syl. They ran this place for a hundred and twenty-five years. It’s gonna take a little time to unravel all the mysteries they left behind. All of their sensitive data and research is encrypted. It’s not like all of the supervisors just wrote down their passwords on sticky notes.”

  Sylvia frowned. “I wasn’t suggesting—”

  Edwin sensed that the conversation was heading in the wrong direction and changed the subject.

  “So, Ben. Tell me about our networking problems. Why do we care about networking in the first place?”

  Edwin had a vague recollection that this had been covered pretty thoroughly in one of their recent Council meetings, but he had to admit that he hadn’t been paying much attention. Technobabble had never been one of his strengths.

  Ben, who appeared to have been preparing for a verbal sparring match with Sylvia, looked taken aback by the sudden question.

  “Oh, uh, okay. Here, look at this.”

  He pushed himself, chair and all, away from the panel he was working on and spun around to face a different console. Ben’s hands flew across the controls, pulling up several monitors’ worth of numbers and letters that were meaningless to Edwin, who nodded as if it all made perfect sense.

  Pointing to a couple of these, Ben began to explain.

  “See these, here? They’re designations for the different pod designs. This column indicates whether or not we’ve had a chance to study any given model in depth. As you can see,” he gestured up and down the mostly empty column, “we haven’t even scratched the surface. There are a few that we’ve been able to use for physical rehabilitation. I’m sure Sylvia’s told you all about those particular models.”

  Edwin nodded. “I’m still not seeing the need for networking, though. If you can make the pods do what you need them to do, what’s the difference?”

  “That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” Ben’s eyes flashed with momentary anger. “We can’t make them do what we need them to do. At least, not all at once. There’s so much potential, and it’s just being wasted. If we were able to network the pods, it would be a simple matter to check the capabilities of any given type to see if they were fit for use or needed repair. We could program and push out updates to all of the pods remotely, right from this desk! We could activate or deactivate them as necessary without having to do so manually.”

  “But why?” pressed Sylvia. “Why does it matter?”

  Ben peered at his sister for a moment before answering. “Remember when we were discussing theories? About maybe using them as stasis pods in times of crisis? If we can’t get the food situation under control, it might come to that. I want to be ready if it does.”

  Edwin noticed Sylvia give a little shudder. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t much care for the idea either.

  “Anyway,” continued Ben, “it’s not just about convenience or preparedness. If we network them, we’ll be able to compare them. And if we can compare them, we can figure out just what the Elves intended to do with them. That’s the real goal. But it’s just not as easy as it sounds. There are a lot of variables.”

  “Trust me,” Edwin told him earnestly, “it doesn’t sound easy at all.”

  Sylvia seemed to have other priorities at the
moment as she gazed at her brother with concern. “Ben, when’s the last time you ate? You look exhausted.”

  Ben glanced around the room, a quizzical expression on his face. “Last time I ate...” His voice was thoughtful.

  “That’s it. Break time. Come on. Let’s get you home. And a nap, I think.”

  Sylvia shooed him from the room like a mother hen as Ben offered weak protests about losing his momentum.

  “Come with us?” Sylvia asked Edwin when they reached the lobby. “It would be nice to have company over. My father would be thrilled to see you.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose. I really should take care of a few things here...”

  “Come on. It’s no bother. Now that the comm range has been extended, you can do all that stuff on the way.” She rolled her eyes. “When I think of all the times I wanted to work on the Tube…I guess it’s true what they say. About being careful what you wish for.”

  Edwin chewed the inside of his cheek as he considered.

  “All right.” He patted his pant pockets absently, feeling as though he was forgetting something. “If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure.”

  By the time they reached the Tube station Ben had stopped complaining and accepted his fate. He sat in silence across from Edwin, staring. Edwin studied him in turn, wondering what was going on inside the young man’s head.

  He wondered if they’d been wrong to put Ben in charge of his department. He was young. Nelson was young, too, but Ben wasn’t like Nelson. His position, his responsibility, was perhaps too heavy a burden. It was taking its toll, that much was obvious.

  Sylvia made several attempts at lighthearted conversation to pass the time. Ben would offer a nod or a one-word answer until she gave up, turning to Edwin with a look of pleading on her face.

  Edwin, caught off guard, struggled to find a topic to engage Ben, who was now staring down at his hands as if unsure of what to do with them.

  “It’s nice, isn’t it?” Edwin tried, “having the Tube up and running again?”

  Ben didn’t even look at him. “Yeah.”

  Edwin waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. “I mean, that was a rough couple of months, huh, before we cleared all that wreckage and got the remaining trains going again.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I still can’t believe the riots caused so much damage,” Sylvia said, shaking her head.

  Edwin cringed, wanting to talk about anything but that.

  His guilt over the death and destruction the night that the Elves had left haunted him. In his dreams, he heard the unending beep of the chip scanner as he walked among the unclaimed dead, identifying them by their implants. Their hollow eyes and pale faces were seared into his memory, each adding weight to the personal burden of responsibility that he bore.

  Talking about it made it all the more painful. But Sylvia continued. “I thought all of the devastation was local to the festivities. When I found out that two of the Tube Stations had been trashed, I was shocked.”

  “We were all shocked,” Edwin agreed grimly. “It was a stupid thing to do. Took ages to sort everything back out after that. But people do stupid things when they get riled up, I guess.”

  Responsibility for the aftermath of the Elves’ departure weighed on Edwin. Each time he thought he was moving on, he’d see something, or someone, that would trigger the memories again. Such, he supposed, was the mantle of leadership.

  Still, the people had rallied to the task. They’d cleaned up the mess—at least the physical aspects of it—and they’d organized a new government. Though it was modeled after the Elder Council, the only example they had to go by, folks seemed eager to offer their support. At least a majority of them. A small but vocal opposition had taken root in the population.

  Still, for the most part, the Council was doing a decent job placating the masses. They looked to Edwin now. He didn’t want to be a disappointment to them.

  He and Sylvia both let out deep sighs. None of them spoke for the remainder of the ride.

  When they reached D5, they exited the Tube Station and walked among the deserted market booths toward Sylvia and Ben’s home. Edwin saw Sylvia cast a sad glance toward her father’s old booth, the remnants of the red streamers hanging limp, torn and forgotten.

  The night of the Anniversary, the rioting in D1 had been short-lived. Nelson’s declaration that the Elves had fled had put a quick end to the bloody chaos in Sigil square.

  Yet it had come too late to stop the spread of the rioters throughout the other domes. Most of the marketplaces had been ransacked before things calmed down. A lot of people had lost their livelihood, including Sylvia’s father.

  Still, they were slowly picking up the pieces. A new, consolidated market had been created in D3, once inhabited by the Elves. Any vendor who had not been robbed of their inventory in the riots or looting had gone there to start fresh. They’d used some of the vacated housing to set up distribution centers and give those who needed a place to sleep somewhere to call their own.

  “Mama?” Sylvia called as they entered the house. “We’re home. We brought Edwin.”

  “Oh, lovely,” Martha replied. “Another person to subject to a disappointing meal.”

  Edwin’s gut churned in discomfort. “I can go.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You’re always welcome here. Sit down,” Martha commanded.

  Edwin sat obediently at the kitchen table, and Sylvia took the place next to him. Edwin’s arm brushed a piece of paper and it slid off the edge, gliding gently toward the floor. He caught it as it fell, his eyes drawn to the words as he put it back. In bold letters it read, “Just More of the Same: Is the New Council Any Different Than the Old One?”

  He didn’t want to read any more but couldn’t help himself. He skimmed over the small print, growing angrier and angrier until a new voice distracted him.

  “Sylvia?”

  Sylvia’s father appeared from down the hall, greeting them all with a bright smile. He offered Edwin a firm handshake. “Edwin! So nice to see you. How is life treating you these days?”

  “Oh, can’t complain, James.” Edwin forced a smile of his own. “And yourself?”

  James clucked his tongue, looking around the small kitchen area. “A little stir crazy to be honest. Not much for an old man to do in this bright new world you’re building. Still, they’re treating us all right. We have plenty to eat and a place to sleep.”

  Sylvia’s mother let out a hearty guffaw. “Plenty is a bit of an overstatement. But there’s enough. We make do.”

  Edwin felt a twinge of guilt. The food shortages were not strictly his fault, but he had hoped that by now, they’d have had a better system in place. He knew these things took time, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

  “It won’t always be like this.”

  “I’m not worried,” Martha replied. “I know you young people will get it all sorted out in the end. In the meantime, we’re no strangers to working with what we’ve got. That’s what we’ve always done, isn’t it?”

  Edwin nodded toward the flyer with a grimace. “Not everyone has your confidence.”

  “Eh?” Martha followed his gaze to the flyer and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, that. They’ve been handing them out door to door. I gave the poor boy who showed up here an earful, let me tell you. The nerve! After all your new establishment has done for us...just ignore them, Edwin. They don’t know what it’s like, being in charge. It’s hard enough running a household,” here she paused to give James a meaningful stare, “Let alone an entire city. They’re just trying to find something to complain about. You can’t please all of the people all of the time.”

  “And you can’t please some of the people any of the time,” Ben whispered with a nod toward his mother as he pulled an extra stool up to the table.

  The conversation turned to more pleasant subjects as they chatted and ate. Sylvia’s mother had been righ
t, the food was nothing spectacular. It was a bland soup, more water than anything else. But it was satisfying enough all the same. Edwin typically consumed his rations in a hurry, straight out of the box they came in, with no effort to create anything special from the sparse ingredients.

  “Are you enjoying being head of the department?” Edwin asked Ben after a time.

  Sylvia shot him a look of exasperation. It was obvious that she’d intended to steer clear of work talk.

  But Ben nodded. “I guess. I mean, it’s nice being able to have some real say in what goes on down there. I just wish we were making more headway.”

  “You’ll get there.” Sylvia smiled encouragingly.

  “Yeah, but when? I just want to be helpful, you know? Do something meaningful.”

  “But you have,” Sylvia insisted, and Edwin nodded in agreement. “Think of all the people you’ve helped so far. Think of all those poor people after the Therans left whose lives were saved by your quick thinking. You got those medical pods up and running so fast it made my head spin!”

  “Not fast enough for some.” Ben focused his gaze on the table, unsmiling.

  Edwin sighed. Between the injuries incurred during the riots, the neglected hospital patients, and the Geothermal Plant workers, there just hadn’t been enough pods operational to take care of them all. Nelson had nearly lost a couple of fingers to frostbite but hadn’t seemed to mind waiting several months for treatment, when they discovered the pods were capable of healing even this infirmity. Nelson had worn them like a badge of honor, eager to show them to anyone who wanted to hear his thrilling first-hand account of the Elves’ exodus. There were precious few doctors to go around now that the Elves were gone. Though they’d been triaged based on need, many souls had been lost before the pods that could have saved them became available.

  “That wasn’t your fault, Ben,” Edwin said. “You shouldn’t put that on yourself.”

  “I wasn’t fast enough.”

  “There just weren’t enough people with the expertise to care for all those who were injured, Ben,” Sylvia insisted. “Most of those we were able to save would be dead now if it weren’t for you.”