She Became Vapor
It was 2:58, and Cecile was rushing through her physics lesson. Maybe she wouldn’t conquer the formulas today, but she would have to run out right at three. She was behind on her personal learning track according to the algorithm, but after today, she may not need her Certificate of Secondary Education Completion anyway.
She looked around at the other students in the room, most focused on the formulas and figures dancing in front of them. She saw her friend Leti looking out the window at the spring sun in a cloudless sky. Perfect Chicago weather for her first mission. She glanced to the clock in the corner of her display, where flashing yellow text assured her that “You’re doing very well--keep at it!”. But Cecile could barely manage to keep still until the study hour was over. She bit her lip as she watched the clock hover at 2:59 for what seemed like hours.
With a gentle chime the clock finally ticked over. Cecile jumped away from the display, almost knocking over her stool. The stomp of her feet on the floor made all the students look over. The Teaching Aide, Simon, stood up from his desk in alarm.
“Cecile, why the commotion?” His low voice had a soothing authority, and his broad stature, silhouetted in the sunlight, made him seem almost imposing.
“I’m sorry Simon. Have to go.” Cecile logged her time on her Enkindler before shutting the square projection device off.
“No questions today?” Simon tilted his head as he stepped around his narrow white desk.
“No.” She picked up her small purse and starting toward the open entryway to the hall.
Simon smiled. “Looks like you’re going to conquer physics. Glad to hear it. Don’t disturb your classmates on your way out.”
Cecile looked back, smiled and nodded, and then rushed out of the classroom to her next task.
She exited Von Steuben via the old, restored brick facade preserved during construction of the sleek, glass-walled building that now stood where the old high school originally had. It was where all young adults could complete their secondary education, as well as gather for extracurricular groups.
Repurposed in compliance with International School Standards when the United States had adopted the system, it was a building Cecile was ready to be done with completely. She had been a capable enough student through her primary studies, but then, at 12 years old, Cecile had learned how the neighboring state of Chimazon had been formed.
In 2022, over a century before she was born, what was now referred to as “The Executive Order” had given individual states the ability to grant sovereignty within their own borders. Governors across the country began selling off state parks, neighborhoods, and even whole cities to any company who paid what was considered a fair price to the politicians brokering the deals. Quickly, the map of the United States became pockmarked, as already wealthy people and organizations profited off the new opportunity.
For a decade Illinois had avoided the fate of many of its Rust Belt neighbors, but in 2036 one of the largest global corporate players of the era made an offer that, Illinois politics being what they were, was gladly accepted. As a result, the whole South Side of Chicago was sold off and rebuilt into what would become the sovereign state of Chimazon. Displaced Chicagoans were almost ruined as they lost their homes and businesses. The city had to work hard to accommodate the sudden population shift. Illinois was sued to pay off the exiled citizens, and it took a generation before Chicago had finally stabilized. All children in the ISS learned this history before their primary education was complete.
Cecile only had to look south from where she stood on Kimball avenue to see the stark skyline that now dominated over the crowded city like a thief standing proudly over their victim, the windows twinkling over her neighborhood. For four years she resented it’s looming presence. Today was going to be the day she would do something.
As she returned her thoughts to her meeting, she heard footsteps running toward her. Looking around, she saw Leti, her wild curls flying out of her ponytail as she approached. Cecile drew a deep breath. How was she going to talk her way out of this one?
Leti stopped a couple feet away and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Why’d you rush out of classroom?”
“I have to go. Stop worrying about me.”
“It’s weird, Cecile. I thought we were going to hang out today.”
“I’ll chirp you later. Got to meet someone.”
Leti stepped closer, looking up to her friend with crossed arms. “Who are you meeting that I don’t know?”
“Oh, you’re going to lecture me?” Cecile bobbled around to emphasize her mocking tone. “I’ll be good Mama! Please let me go!”
“Hey! Who do you know not still taking secondary courses?”
“Mags got her cert a month ago.”
“She’s in Cali now. Doesn’t count.”
Cecile rolled her eyes. “Leti, I got to go.”
“Can I come with?”
Cecile began to turn away from her friend. She usually loved how this brilliant girl still looked up to her in earnest. Despite being two years younger, Leti was at the same level of certificate completion as Cecile. She had sped through primary lessons, starting her secondary lesson regimen at the same time as Cecile, and on a similar lesson path. The two chose to do their subject focuses together a lot of the time. Cecile couldn’t say why they two had become so close. They just felt like sisters at this point.
Leti tugged on the back of Cecile’s shirt. “Can I?”
Cecile didn’t even turn around to face her. “You can’t. Can’t tell.”
“Why are you being so weird?”
“Because!”
The silence hung thick on the sidewalk. Cecile walked away without looking back. She knew she had upset Leti, especially after hearing her friend run away from her, the stamp of her feet echoing down the mostly empty street, but Leti was just too young to get caught in this.
Cecile quickened her pace.
3:30 pm. She barely made it to the community garden, a six-story tiered atrium adorned with bright grow lights and lush greenery, much of it just coming into its seasonal color. Cecile walked past the first floor with its fungi and lichen, took the stairs past the second floor of ferns and orchids. She finally arrived to the third floor where most of the produce was being grown. She navigated by the hovering hologram signs, passing the artichokes and carrots before stopping in front of the large area dedicated to leeks. There her contact stood.
He wore a hooded black jacket that helped obscure his pale face and rich dark eyes. He gave an inviting smirk and twirled the end of his long braided mohawk that peeked out and hung to the middle of his chest. The tapping of his black boot on the floor gave Cecile a rhythm to walk to him.
Not wanting to seem too eager, she tried not to rush. “Hi,” she exhaled, forgetting how to speak as her lips began to tremble.
He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, electrifying her. “Don’t be nervous, alright?”
She looked toward the leeks in hopes she wouldn’t blush. “I’m not nervous, Addy.”
He gave a soft laugh. “I was my first time.”
“You were?”
He pulled his hand back as he opened a low jacket pocket. “Of course. Once you’re in the FOG, things can feel pretty real.” He revealed a small square black device, scratched with use. Cecile recognized it as an older model of a Personal Pocket Holo Projector, a common device everyone had to chirp and call each other.
“What’s with the Phip?” She scrunched her brow.
“Today’s not the day.”
Cecile slouched, the excitement draining. “But I’m ready!”
Addy hushed her. “Hey. Be careful how loud you are about the plans.” He handed the phip to her. “Probably in a day or two I’ll have the tools for the job. I’ll reach you on this.”
“Why this one? You have my digits.”
“Do you want to be caught doing this?”
Cecile shook her head, nervously brushing her fingers through her hair at the thought.
“Then use this old phip. If you do well enough, you’ll get one that’ll last more than a week.”
“And be part of the FOG?”
Addy smiled. “You technically already are. You’re just stuck talking with me for now.”
Cecile was perfectly fine with that arrangement. “Okay.”
“Don’t daydream too hard. We wouldn’t give a kid something too exciting.”
“I’m not a kid.”
Addy stifled a laugh. “I remember when I thought that.” He regarded her warmly. “I don’t care how far you are in your certs, you’re still a kid. You have other things to learn than algebra and ecosystems.”
She couldn’t hide the pout she knew wasn’t helping her case. She turned again to the leeks.
“It’s okay. You’ll grow out of it.” Addy took a look around the room, occupied only by themselves and a lone man tending to spinach a few yards away. “I wish I could stay and tell you more, but before a job it’s best we don’t hang out too much.”
Cecile sighed. “That makes sense.”
“After this job I’ll treat you to a tea and pie at this place nearby. First Slice. Know it?”
She nodded and smiled.
“Great. That’s where we’ll go. A celebratory pie. But now I’ll leave first. You stare at the produce another five minutes before you leave too, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Later, Ceci.”
As Addy sauntered away, Cecile had to admit to herself that as much as she hated that nickname, it sounded amazing when he said it.
“What’s with the strawberries?”
Cecile’s mother was in the family’s kitchen, removing some chicken thighs from the freezer, getting ready to cook them with fresh garlic and lemon.
“I… was thinking about them in class today.” Cecile went to the empty kitchen sink and opened the bag.
Before she could dump them out, her mother rushed over. “Hey now! Get a colander. You got to rinse them off first.”
“They’re picked right off the bush, Mama.”
“Oh you think the fertilizer didn’t touch any of those? If you’re not careful you’ll be eating what you were excreting a week ago!”
Mama chuckled at her own joke as she reached into a lower cabinet and pulled out a flat, perforated metal square. “Now set that up and rinse them at least.”
Cecile scoffed as she complied, folding the square into a sharp edged bowl and placing her strawberries in it.
“There you go. How were classes?”
“Okay.”
“See Leti?”
“Of course.” Cecile paused before touching right of the faucet to turn the water on. “I should call her over.”
“Study party?”
“No.”
Mama began mincing the garlic with finesse, the acrid smell filling the kitchen. “What for then?”
“Because.”
“Okay. Because. Should I make enough for her to eat too?”
“I don’t know. I’ll chirp her in a bit.” Cecile thought the strawberries could be a good excuse. Maybe she could say sorry.
Across the home she heard the door gently shut. She turned off the water and dropped the colander in the sink, turning to see her father come in with a blue shopping bag in hand.
“Hi Papa!” She called across the condo, before going back to the colander and putting it on the counter, right next to her mother’s cooking.
Mama wasn’t pleased. “Don’t let it drip dry there, Cecile!”
“Alright!” Cecile returned the colander to the sink.
“Get a bowl.”
“I will!”
Papa made his way into the kitchen, a stern look on his face. “Cecile, you know to give your mother space when she’s cooking. Tomorrow you and I can make something together, okay?”
Cecile turned back to the sink in hopes her parents wouldn’t see her roll her eyes. “I was just washing strawberries.”
Papa came to her and bent down to put a kiss on her forehead. “Want to wash the food I brought home little lady?” He handed his bag to her.
Cecile looked inside to see spinach, asparagus, rhubarb and leeks. A shudder went down her spine. “Where did you get this?”
Papa grinned back. “Community garden. Where else? Had the afternoon off. Mama wanted some things for the next couple dinners and I was thinking of making a pie.” He looked to the sink. “Looks like you have enough strawberries to help out. Want to work on a pie tomorrow?”
Cecile was too worried that Papa had seen her to say anything. She nodded her head and began to back away from the kitchen.
“Good. Mama can rest, then.” Papa walked over and planted a quick kiss on Mama’s cheek as she paused from her mincing. “Lemon garlic chicken?”
“Mmmhmmm,” Mama replied as she focused on her task. “How are you, love?”
“Alright. Just got off the phip with Pierce.”
Cecile’s blood began to boil, forgetting her recent rush of fear. She didn’t want to hear about him.
“Oh.” Mama was quiet. She was prickly about the subject as well. “How’s he?”
“Wants us to visit. Sad about how long it’s been.”
“Of course.”
“Maybe I should go sometime.”
Cecile stormed off, out of the kitchen, through the dining room and into her room, slamming the door closed. In the sudden darkness, she realized that she didn’t want to be alone, but she was too stubborn to change her mind. She stomped to her bed, sat down and dropped her purse. The phip that Addy gave her fell out. Cecile bent down to take a look over it. It must have been at 2157 model, five years old. Who would keep a phip so long? What might be on it?
She turned it over to see the skinny power button. She looked to her door. Mama and Papa would probably leave her alone until dinner. She pressed the button.
Projected on the wall across from her was an image of a hazy sky. After a moment the clouds grew across the wall, overwhelming it. A phrase appeared in the foreground, written in a smokey patterned font.
We shall roll in…
Cecile heard the doorknob turn, and immediately pressed the button. In a flash the image was gone. She hid the phip under her pillow as Papa peeked his head into the shadowed room.
“Cecile, this dark?”
She shrugged. “Computer, window transparency to 75 percent.”
The tall, black glass window across from her bedroom door slowly cleared, letting in the afternoon glow. The yellow light revealed the mess of clothes on the floor, the worn sneakers blocking her small closet, and a computer desk covered in small square projectors, all turned off.
This last thing surprised Papa. “You don’t have your pictures on?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve turned those on for a while.”
Papa stepped in. “I thought they were on last week?”
“I mean, I can turn them on if it would make you feel better?”
As she walked to her desk and started turning on each projection, her father wavered. “I didn’t mean to make you turn them on Cecile.”
“It’s okay.” On the wall near her desk pictures began to project from each device. There was one with her, Leti and Mags from last year, each holding in front of them a huge rainbow sherbet cone. There was one with Cecile and her mother when she was only eight, smiling on the beach in front of a sloppily constructed sand castle. There was one from her Primary School Certificate Ceremony, her parents on either side as she held up the translucent diploma. Her wide grin was distorted behind it, the official stamp’s groves making unnatural sharp turns in her face.
She activated the fourth one and saw herself with Pierce, five years ago. The two of them were sitting on the family couch, its warm brown and beige pattern framing the two of them in their matching blue sweaters. An eleven year old Cecile was hugging her square faced brother fiercely, wearing an exaggerated grin. Pierce had obviously been laughing, but had an arm around her to hug her back. His head leaned over hers.
Cecile took a moment to gaze at it. She hadn’t turned that projector on in a couple of years. She had forgotten she had that picture.
Papa went to stand next to her. “That’s right, Grandma got you guys matching sweaters.”
“Yeah.” Cecile was quiet.
Papa put an arm around her, giving her a welcome side hug. “He’s still your brother.”
“But he’s a traitor now.”
Papa took in a deep breath, as if the response he wanted was just lingering in the air. “He fell in love. Emotions can make you do things that look dumb to other people.”
“Chicagoans don’t move to... ‘Shamazon’.”
“I know. It hurts me too.”
“But you said you’ll visit him.”
Papa tilted his head as he answered. “I would. He didn’t go there to hurt us. He went there because that’s where the woman he loves is. Grandma moved to Chicago for Grandpa. People move for love all the time.” He chuckled. “People move for less. I know you’re going to hate me saying this.”
“Saying what?”
“That you’ll understand when you’re older.”
Cecile gently thumped her head into her father, still hugging him back. She did hate him saying that, but that was all the protest she could muster.
The next morning, Cecile waited on the sidewalk outside of Von Steuben for an hour, making sure she wouldn’t miss Leti walking in to start lessons for the day. It forced her to look toward the towering Chimazon skyline. The wind kept blowing into her face, as if the nation that stole her brother was irritating her out of spite. She was wiping a rogue eyelash out of her eye when she finally spotted her friend.
“Leti!" She ran over, past some of their classmates who were also heading in for lessons. “Leti! Can we talk?”
With a pout and a shrug, Leti stopped in place and let Cecile approach her.
Cecile forced a hug on her shorter friend. Leti’s curls tickled her face and caused her to smile. “I’m sorry for yesterday, okay?”
Leti didn’t hug back. “Okay.”
Cecile pulled back, keeping her hands on Leti’s shoulders. “Really. I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m doing some serious stuff now.”
Leti’s eyes went wide. “How serious?”
“Pretty close to full-blown adult serious.”
“Is it another pretty guy you’re obsessing over?”
Cecile smirked. Leti knew her too well.
“It is!”
“Pretty guy, okay?”
“That’s not worth making your friend mad at you, Cecile.”
Cecile giggled. “But this guy is so pretty!”
“Tell me about him!”
“Not yet, okay?”
“Why is it a secret?”
“I told you! Full blown adult stuff.”
“You didn’t make it with him, did you?”
“No!” Cecile shrieked. Some of the other young people around Von Steuben looked at her quizzically. She could feel the red coming through her face.
Leti laughed even harder. “Oh man! Okay, okay, you didn’t. Cecile, the look on your face!”
“Stop it Leti!”
“I stopped!” Leti gave Cecile a reassuring hug as the two finally laughed off the fight they had started not even a day before. For a moment the two held each other as they fought to stifle their giggles. Leti finally added, “Okay, you just have to tell me what it’s like when you do make it.”
Cecile shook her head. “I shouldn’t, he’s much older.”
“18?”
“23.”
Leti gasped.
“Full. Blown. Adult.”
“You’re making it sound like you made it with this guy!”
“Shhh!” Cecile looked around, but their peers were ignoring them again. “Look, I can’t tell you anything until it’s all over. It’s secret stuff.”
Leti jokingly raised her eyebrows. “Secret adult stuff? Pants off stuff?”
“Leti!” Cecile kept to a hushed tone. “Seriously! It’s definitely bigger than that. I can’t tell you yet though. Maybe later.”
“Like when?”
“Maybe in the next week?” Cecile took Leti’s hand and walked over. “Let’s start physics first today. I don’t want to have to worry about it. I may have to leave early.”
“Wait why? Oh…”
In unison the two looked at each other as they just repeated “Full blown adult stuff.” They then rushed in, Cecile leading Leti back to the building so they could start their day in the Sciences lesson room.
Cecile and Leti spent almost two hours reviewing physics together before they decided to split up. Leti wanted to focus on algebra lessons next, but Cecile was tired of formulas, so she waved goodbye and headed to the first floor, to the Literature classroom. As she walked down the stairs, she felt a buzz in her purse. She reached in and pulled out her phip, only to see that the indicator light wasn’t lit. She paused at the bottom of the stairs before realizing it wasn’t her personal phip that had received a message.
She looked around. It was right before lunch hour. She could sneak out the front without most people noticing. Being 16 also meant that unlike Leti, she couldn’t be charged with truancy if she didn’t stay in lessons for at least 6 hours. She was still cautious, hoping no one would see her as she walked out the large, creaky doors to the street. She tried to feign confidence with her back straight and her eyes ahead, but the swiftness of her pace revealed her nervous energy.
She walked North two blocks until she found an alleyway to sneak into, the wind now stronger than before as she fumbled in her purse for the phip that had seen better days. A dark grey building provided the surface for her to project the holo-display from the phip, the same rolling cloud motif now decorated with an orange dot in the right corner. She poked the hovering dot with her hand, the gesture in the air all that was needed to show her message center. Only one was in the list, from a contact that had been entered under “OP 09.27.86”.
Got the stuff for the job. Too soon for leeks meet. Twig east side of W arch.
Cecile understood and rushed towards her fate.
She beat Addy to the tall oak tree on the west side of the Wilson bridge. There was a small bench before the public promenade that hovered on the shore of the Chicago River. Long grass draped over the rough-patterned path, an empty route except for a couple of rogue squirrels skittering their way to a nearby bird feeder. Cecile looked to the rows of houses, their old brick and wood frames now carrying solar panel shingles and their thin gutters now leading to rain water stores. Stone patios surrounded by buffalo grass continued down until the next bridge in sight, each one in a simple pattern distinct from all the others. The one near the bird feeder had a faux fire pit still projecting blue flames, presumably from the home owners having entertained the evening before. She wondered if her brother missed having backyard parties living in such a constrained, overbuilt area. Conglomerate culture could never balance the urban with the natural, not as well as Chicago had learned to over the centuries.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Addy, hood of his jacket up and a serious look on his face. “Ceci, you ready?” He took a seat close to her.
She spun her whole body toward him. “Let’s roll in the FOG,” she whispered.
“Glad you’re keeping it discreet.” He brought his small backpack, weathered and gray, onto his lap. “Bring your purse up quick.”
She obliged.
He opened the main compartment of his pack and reached in to pull out a brown plastic device with a few black wires attached to the sides. “Here’s the deal. Truck is going to stop and glitch right in front of the alley near your home around 2:30ish today. It always does on that route. When it does, get to its back door and use this adhesive pad to stick this on.” Addy flipped the device over to reveal a yellow rectangle on its back. “Peel the cover and just stick it. Then you got to activate it.” He turned it back up and pointed to two crude black buttons sticking out on one end, looking like a beetle’s eyes. “You have to press both buttons at the same time to make sure it’s active. Hold them for a couple seconds. Then go home like nothing happened.” He placed the device in her purse.
Cecile watched Addy’s hand slowly exit her bag. “What’s it going to do?”
“Paint bombs. Damages the goods. Eating profits.”
“That’s it?”
Addy smirked. “This time, yes. Don’t look disappointed. It sends a message. We’re starting to increase these attacks. Takes out some of their profits.”
“Will it go off right away?”
“Pfft. No. Of course not. Takes 30 minutes, it’s going to be on it’s way to Kenosha or something like that when it ruins all that Chimazon trash in its compartment.”
“Why does it stop by us?”
“Goes to some ISS hubs for deliveries here. Probably the one you go to. Stueben, right?”
Cecile didn’t answer. She just looked over Addy’s beautiful face. She had to prove to him she was in it for the long haul. Then they could stay connected. A fleeting cinematic image of the two of them standing over the smoldering rubble of Chimazon flashed in her mind. Could they do it?
“Anyway,” Addy continued, “it just glitches into a programmed path right on your street. By the alley. Luckily I figured that out.”
“Yeah.”
“You okay, Ceci?”
Cecile shuddered. She hoped her face hadn’t looked too far away as she daydreamed. “Yeah, I just look forward to proving myself. Want to do more.”
“This is a good first step. Pull this off we can trust you with more delicate stuff that goes down the can and strings.”
“The can and… what?”
Addy let out a quick chuckle. “You’ll get it soon enough.” He went to stand up. “Better go before we’re seen. Path is quiet this time of day.” He took a step toward the river walk before he turned back. “Oh! I’ll message you when I hear it’s done. Don’t reach out to me. We have people who confirm, peer through the mists so to speak.” He then spun around and casually strode down to the path over the river, leaving Cecile to gaze at him as she fantasized a future where she could hold his hand as they walked down the street.
The wind had picked up again as Cecile waited in the wide alleyway near home. The older concrete buildings covered in dark panels and adjustable tint windows didn’t block the gusts that tried to topple her over. She was crouching behind a silver dumpster, one that smelled particularly bad since it was the composting receptacle for the block. Cecile thought she was clever hiding behind the one structure that smelled so awful no one would want to look at it, despite the constant assault of new and surprising odors that made her gag. Her imagination ran wild pondering what might be hidden and rotting in the container next to her.
Shaking off one of those wild thoughts, she finally saw the truck cross the alleyway. It slowed down, a navy blue rectangle adorned with the orange arrow logo that Chimazon had designed as a pattern to wrap the whole contraption. The only opening was the doors on the back, every other inch of it devoted only to storing cargo. On top sat a transparent dark dome with a blinking red light. Cecile knew that most self-driving trucks had a similar device on top but normally the light was steady. She assumed this was the glitch Addy had mentioned earlier.
She took a few seconds to ease her way up from behind the dumpster, looking around to see if anyone was in the alley or the street. Remembering her cover, she snatched the device out of her purse and straightened. She took a wide stride and kept her chin up, mimicking the maturity she thought necessary for the task. She could do this. She had to. She didn’t want to let the FOG down after they had let her in.
With her exaggerated gait, she approached the back of the truck, the tall blue and orange doors intimidating Cecile. She couldn’t remember if she ever had been this close to a Chimazon truck before, or to any truck for that matter. With most Chicagoans taking public transit, she knew few people that even owned a small personal vehicle. This was like an alien monolith from a hostile land roaming near her home.
She struggled for a moment peeling the protective cover from the adhesive on the device, then stuck the bug-eyed gadget right on the center of the doors. She pressed the two buttons, counting to three as she held them, and then released. Cecile skipped off gleefully for a few steps before remembering she was supposed to act casual, then forced herself to walk calmly home, trying to think of the story she would tell her parents when they realized she left her classes earlier than usual.
Cecile was shrouded in the darkness of her room, fumbling idly with the phip Addy had given her. She had remembered to not contact him or tell anyone about her success. She hoped he would contact her soon. It had been several hours, and checking the news feeds had been fruitless. No word on any trucks attacked or anything like it.
There was a knock on her door. “Cecile?” Papa called out.
She shoved the illicit phip under a pillow and faked a groan. “Yeah?”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, alright.”
The door slowly opened, Papa peeking his head in. “How’s the headache?”
“Better.” She rolled her self up, sitting with bad posture on the bed. She pulled a sheet off of her.
“I know this may have been more your thing as a little girl, but I’m about to put the lattice top on the pie. Want to help?”
Cecile perked up. “Oh! Yeah… okay yeah.” She swung her legs around and stood up straight from the bed.
Papa laughed. “You must be better. Come on."
She followed him past the dining room to the kitchen. There on the counter was the untopped pie and a sheet of pie pastry dough ready to be cut.
Papa went to a drawer and pulled out the small pastry cutter. “That’s for you.” He handed it to her.
Cecile took it by the handle and turned to face the task at hand. “How thick?”
“Less than an inch I think.”
“Okay.” She used her pointer and middle finger on her left hand to approximate the width of the dough strips, and moved the rolling blade with her right, cutting slowly to keep the strips as even as possible.
Papa watched her cut two strips before he said, “You’re really good for someone who doesn’t precut.”
Cecile tilted her head. “Thanks?”
Papa laughed. “Yeah, sure. You’re welcome.” He looked out past the kitchen before regarding Cecile. “Did you know I saw you at the community garden yesterday?”
She froze. “No.”
“You didn’t?”
She shook her head, contemplating on whether or not she should continue cutting the dough. The lines wouldn’t be as straight if Papa kept prying. She kept her eyes ahead as she considered her options.
“Made a new friend I saw.”
“Um, yeah he’s a friend.”
“Older friend.”
“Not by much.”
Papa scoffed. “Let me guess, 25?”
“No,” she whined, “he’s younger than that.”
“Not by much I’d bet. Where did you meet him?”
“I…” Cecile had to think of something, anything other than a FOG forum. “I think I met him when Leti and I were out a couple weeks ago.”
“You mean when you two went to the beach?” Papa’s voice went shrill.
Cecile rushed to calm him down. “No! Like afterward. We got ice cream. He said hi.”
“No friends with him, no partner with him, nothing?”
“I… I think his friends had just left.”
Papa crossed his arms. “Cecile, this guy is too old for you. I could tell he made your heart skip a beat, you blushing in front of produce like you hadn’t seen leeks before.”
“Papa!” It was her turn to be shrill.
“Cecile I’m looking out for you. I don’t mind if you decide to go out with someone your age, but you can’t be having secret meetings with a full blown adult. You understand?”
“I’m not going with him, Papa.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Just being friends!”
“Oh, okay. What do you two have in common?” Papa leaned over to look down at Cecile, who’s eyes were still fixed on the pastry dough.
“Um..” She bit her lip. “We both like… strawberries?”
“For the love of… Cecile. I get it. He’s nice looking to you. Maybe even Mama would think he’s pretty too. I don’t care. Adults go with adults, and teenagers don’t go with adults. No partnering up with anyone that old.” Papa stepped in to take Cecile’s place, taking the rolling blade out of her hand and gently pushing her aside. “You’re almost old enough to go out there and make your own mistakes, but I’m going to protect you from one that steals you from us.”
“Addy isn’t stealing me!” Her whining was more exaggerated. She knew it didn’t make her sound as mature as she knew she was, as mature as a FOG operative had to be.
“Older men take young girls like you because they want to use you. They don’t think you know any better than to partner up with someone who will treat them like manure.”
“You let Pierce get stolen four years ago!”
Papa threw the rolling blade in the sink in frustration. As it slammed into the ceramic basin Cecile jumped back, surprised by the outburst.
“Dammit,” Papa said under his breath, as he shook his arms and took a couple deep breaths, tempering his anger. He slowly turned to see a wide eyed Cecile, clutching her hands over her chest. “Cecile, Gina didn’t steal your brother.”
“She stole him away to to Chimazon!”
“They fell in love and now Pierce and Gina are living literally less than an hour away and you never come visit.”
“Because he’s a traitor! Chimazon was Chicago and now he lives where those thieving crap-atalists took part of our city! You told me that’s where Grandpa’s family was from and now--”
“Cecile, I don’t know why you’re obsessed about a ‘crime’ that happened almost a century and a half ago, but you need to get over it. I’m over it, Grandpa was over it, and even Grandpa’s grandpa was over it well before I was in the picture. Yes, we used to live in the south side of Chicago, and we were very proud. We are proud. But things change, and Gina has nothing to do with something that happened before her own great grandparents were born.”
Cecile could feel tears welling up as she started to yell. “He never came back!”
“Who never--oh, Pierce.” Papa took a step back.
“He married Gina and then never came back in Chicago! They work him to death so he never comes and--”
“No, they don’t.”
“Yes they do!”
“Who told you that?”
“You did!”
Papa put his head in his hands. “Who is ‘they’, Chimazon?”
“Yeah.”
He dragged his fingers across his face and then shook them off. “No, they don’t. He works himself to death. He works very hard. He and Gina have a small apartment. He wants to live there like he did in Chicago, but it means he has to work a lot more. So he works a lot more.”
“But doesn’t that mean Chimazon is making him work?”
“He could always move back here and get a standard home twice the size instead, but Pierce made a choice. He chose to keep Gina happy, so he’s working twice as hard over there to get what he wants too, so they can both be happy together.”
“Why can’t Chimazon just--”
“Cecile, you have to give it a break. Pierce chose to move. He’s not dead, you can see him tomorrow even if you can get off this… hate-fix you have for where he calls home. Just give it a break.” Papa took another deep breath before adding, “And if you’re so worried about him, he’d be worried sick to know his sister is dating some creep that looks older than him!”
Cecile just stood there with tears falling. She couldn’t understand. Why would Pierce leave them for a place where he would have to work twice as hard to get half as much? Why would Gina let him do that? Why would Mama and Papa not stop him?
“Hey…” Papa tried to open his arms and come close.
“No!” Cecile ran away from the hug, rushing back into her room and slamming the door. She jumped onto her bed, buried her face into her pillow, and tried to keep quiet as she wept like the baby she felt she was that moment.
When Cecile finally rolled out of bed in the morning, she had only a vague idea of the time. She had fallen in and out of sleep all night, waiting for the phip Addy gave her to buzz. She stood up and turned it on, projecting it on the blank wall above her desk. The home screen had the same grey rolling clouds. She looked to see if she was able to access a news feed, but after maneuvering the holographic projection with a frustrated flick of her fingers confirmed that its only option was to chirp someone through the messaging app. She turned off the projection and slammed the phip on her desk. She found her purse on the floor and pulled out her own phip, opening it to reveal the background with her, Leti and Mags making silly faces for the photo. She cracked a smile, a dose of joy she needed, and then pulled up the local news feed. Illuminated in front of her were the top three headlines.
On her desk, the illicit phip danced. She quickly turned hers off and switched it with the other, seeing a message alert from the same 09.27.86 contact.
Confirmed success. Good job. 1st slice at fourteen?
She took in a deep breath. That headline probably wasn’t hers, since Addy didn’t mention it. With a wide smile she agonized over her reply, one to reflect her now-proven maturity. She spoke to the phip so it could type her response verbatim. “Yeah. Crowded weekends. That okay?”
She jumped as the yellow ellipses confirmed a response was eminent. The seconds dragged on as she anticipated the reply.
Yeah. My treat. To celebrate.
Cecile thought Leti would want to meet the pretty guy that had distracted her. “Can I bring a friend?”
Sure. There was a pause before he added, Helps with the cover. We’ll talk about org details another day.
“Yeah. Cool. See you then.”
Cecile hopped in place in celebration. Addy had said she was already part of the FOG, but it felt real now. She knew she had done something good.
From past the door she heard Mama call, “Cecile! Come eat something.”
She froze. Mama may have heard her jumping. She may have to cover for that. She quieted her nerves, buried the smirk on her face, and finally went to the door. She peeked out to see Mama at the head of the dining room table, looking at the news feed on her own phip. The seat to the right of Mama had a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie, topped with now melting whipped cream. Cecile pouted. Mama had probably made that fresh hours ago. The crust may be soggy by now.
Mama saw her and motioned her over. “Come sit. Just reading the doom and gloom.”
Cecile obliged, taking the fork by the plate. “Pie for breakfast?”
Mama smiled. “It’s finally the weekend! Let’s celebrate.” She looked on as Cecile dug in. “Papa did a good job, didn’t he?”
Cecile nodded, then covered her mouth before she spoke. “Mmhmm. I have to tell him.”
“Later today. He decided to go visit Pierce.”
Cecile dropped her fork, it clanging on the plate.
“I know. Don’t get too upset but I know. I’m not sure if he’ll even get in. Fighters of Greed made another attack. Border control is going to be tight.”
Cecile swallowed her food, deciding to play dumb. “There was an attack?”
“Looks like. Truck bomb. Full blown bomb this time. Said some people are injured, but the Times isn’t getting the scoop. You know how Chimazon wants to promote their own news service. Probably holding it for that awful show Snippets or something like that.” Mama rolled her eyes. “Never going to download that in a million years.”
“Oh.” Cecile pondered as she took another slice of pie. A bomb? Technically what she put on the truck was a bomb, but it was only supposed to injure the cargo, not any people. She chewed it over.
Mama kept watch over her. “Papa let me know about your fight. Sounds like he’s confused about it.” She put an idle hand through Cecile’s hair. “Are you?”
Cecile shook her head. “No. He just keeps acting like it’s okay Pierce is over there.”
“I know. Papa just wants us to be happy and together again.” Mama turned off her phip’s projection and her face went solemn. “I know he doesn’t want us mad at Gina. And I don’t want you mad at her either. People fall in love.”
Cecile rolled her eyes.
“I’m just mad at myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I taught you two why those corporate shams of nations are unsafe and unfair. America tried really hard after The Executive Order to become a better place to live. And it was better, even by the time Chimazon was stolen from Chicago. They waited ten years before revealing the corrupt shit they were--” Mama gasped and caught herself. “I’m sorry. I’m angry. You know what I’m saying.”
Cecile slowly nodded, looking to her mother while wondering if any other trucks had been targeted.
“I raised you two to be proud of where you’re from and where your family is from. And Pierce just moving to Chimazon just… well it means he wasn’t as proud as I thought.” Mama began to tear up. “That place is the opposite of everything good in America. You pay for everything, they don’t care about the environment until the rest of the world boycotts their cheap trash, half of their workers live in pods smaller than your bed but work more than 40 hours a week. And he chose that… over home.”
Mama finally had to look away, wiping tears from her face. Cecile had lost her appetite for pie. She stood up and hugged Mama, a tight grip as if to squeeze out the grief.
Mama wrapped her arms back and started to cry more. “Oh little lady. Never move to some goddamn corporate mess you got that? You deserve so much better.”
Cecile began to cry back. “Yeah. I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah.”
The two took the time they needed to sob into each other’s arms.
It was already 2:05 as Leti and Cecile sat on the covered patio at First Slice, near the old station decorated with informational holograms about what had been the original “el” train system. Cecile looked as the words and images jumped around from screen to screen while a handful of people read them over.
“Tea’s cool enough,” Leti said.
Cecile turned back to see Leti take a sip of her lemongrass and ginger. The large cup she held with both hands made her face look small.
Cecile looked down at her cup of earl grey. The rich bergamot pleased her nose, and she let a smile cross her face. She took it by the handle, and looked past Leti as she took a sip.
“See?”
Cecile finished her sip. “Yeah. It’s right.”
“You sure this guy is coming?”
“It’s only been five.”
“You’re looking around all worried.”
Leti was right. Five minutes for anyone else wasn’t a cause for alarm, but Addy was typically prompt. Cecile feared something must have gone wrong.
Looking back to the old station, she saw something in her periphery. She squinted as behind a hologram, a dark shape seemed to hover.
Her purse buzzed. Cecile first pulled out the old phip, but it wasn’t the one. She then dug up her own phip and placed it in front of her on the table, next to her tea. When she projected the home screen, in green light it declared Papa is ringing you. Answer?
Leti looked on. “Why not just a chirp?”
Cecile pressed the button to answer. There was no image, so she said “Papa?”
“Cecile.” His tone was low and quiet. “Have your earbuds?”
“No, remember I lost them?”
“Where are you?”
“Out with Leti.”
She heard Papa let out a long exhale. “Cecile just get home right now.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you without an earbud.”
“But I have--” she caught herself, not wanting to anger Papa about Addy. “I promised Leti we would hang out today. I can’t just leave.”
“You going to leave right now. Mama and you got to meet me here with Pierce.”
Cecile straightened her back and perked her ears. “Why?”
“I don’t want to tell you, you just--”
“Papa you can’t make me go to Chimazon, okay?”
There was a pause as he started to grumble a response.
“I don’t care what you’re going to say. I’m not going over there to see Pierce. It’s not fair. Why doesn’t he come over here?”
“Dammit Cecile! Your brother is in a coma!”
Leti gasped so loudly the two women at the next table over turned around to stare. She sipped her tea to hide her embarrassment, realizing the volume of her shock was too loud.
Cecile stared ahead, still as stone. She could feel any calm in her erode away.
“Did you hear me?” Papa was almost at a yell.
“Uh. Papa?”
“Yes.”
“You said coma?”
There was a pregnant pause before he said, “Yes.”
“How?”
“Those awful FOGs. Fighters of Glut or whatever they are. Bomb had shrapnel in it, and a piece hit Pierce in the head. He’s lucky. One other person died.”
“Wait! How was he near the truck?” Cecile tried to keep her voice to a whisper. Leti’s nervous looks around indicated that she was not succeeding.
“You know about this?”
Cecile bit her lip as she made up an explanation. “Mama told me.”
“She knew about it?”
“On the news feeds this morning.”
“Well I don’t know what she read, but this bomb was meant to do some horrible damage.” He fell silent again.
“Papa?”
“It was horrible. It did what it was supposed to.”
Cecile gripped the table as she looked at the phip, hoping something would change the story. Was this a joke? Was it a dream? What could make this no longer real?
“Get home to Mama, little lady,” Papa pleaded, beginning to sob.
Cecile began to nod her head as she pushed back from the table.
“Get home, okay?”
“Okay Papa.”
“I have to go. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She quickly turned off her phip and buried it in her purse. She could feel the hot tears starting to roll. Leti set down her tea cup and stood up. “Cecile, wait. Look at that.”
Cecile followed to where Leti was pointing. Just a couple yards away was a single-propeller drone, the whirling orange blades making a halo for the navy blue box they carried. From where she stood, she could see that it had a recording lens. In that moment she asked herself how did she let this happen.
As she covered her face with her hair and shoved her phip in her purse, she felt the buzz.
“Oh no,” she muttered. Without hesitation she ran out to the street.
“Cecile!” Leti called out. “Where are you going?”
She winced as her friend called out her name. Did the drone record sound?
“Cecile!”
She got across the street and began to sprint. “Bye Leti!” She turned to cross the old tracks and tried to go down an alley. She went until it dead-ended at the river. She looked to see an open gate into a backyard, covered in tall buffalo grass. She sprinted then slid on the grass, scraping her bare elbows. She gritted her teeth at the pain and then rolled onto her back. She was in the yard of a large house, probably held three families. The windows were all dimmed dark. She figured no one was looking outside.
Cecile reached into her purse and felt for the illicit phip. She turned her head to the side and turned it on, praying the projection would stay shorter than the plants hiding her now.
Just under the height of the grass, the cloud screen came on, indicating a message from 09.27.86. Cecile placed the phip on the ground and opened the messages.
SNAFU. TWIG EAST SIDE W ARCH ASAP.
Another message had been sent less than a minute after the first.
LET ME SAVE YOU FROM THEM.
Cecile began to shake. Save her from whom, Chimazon? What would Chimazon do?
She heard the whir of a drone above her. She shut off the phip and did her best to lay perfectly still, slowly turning her head until she could see the clear blue sky above. As she feared, the orange and blue drone hovered right above her. How would she escape?
The drone began to drift around in circles. She waited an agonizing couple of minutes, hoping it would backtrack to find her, but to her dismay, it continued to hover around the yard. She raised her head a couple inches to try to see if there were another hiding place. Peeking above the yellow-green blades of grass was the fence to the next yard. Cecile wondered if she could get the drone to fly in the opposite direction. She could then hop over the fence and lose it. The meeting spot at Wilson bridge was not too far, she could get there in just a couple minutes if she ran. Cecile gripped the old phip, figuring the FOG could forgive her if it meant getting Chimazon off her trail.
With a quick flick she turned it on and then sent it skidding out of the yard, all the way to the sidewalk. The drone noticed it, and then rushed after it. Cecile sprang up and ran toward the fence. She leapt over it like an Olympic hurdler , spooking a neighbor who had been sitting in solitude just a moment ago. Ignoring the woman’s calls for explanation, Cecile rushed around the house and across the front lawn, almost tripping over some decorative thistles and dusty millers before reaching the front gate and opening it. Nowt she had hard, clear sidewalk under her feet as she rushed past the other homes. She could only hear her heartbeat booming in her eardrums as she kept her eyes on the path ahead. She made it to the bridge in record time. The sun glittered in the dark river to her left, the sleek empty road to the right. Ahead was the entrance to the walkway with the tree, where she had just been the day before.
She turned the corner to the bench, expecting to see Addy. He wasn’t there. She ran over and then looked down the stairway. He said he would be here. Why would he be gone now?
Cecile turned around looking back. Maybe she had beat Addy there? She looked up in time to realize that the drone had succeeded in finding her again.
“Duck!” a voice behind her ordered.
Cecile did so. She heard boots running up and then a sharp electric crunch in the air. Looking up, she caught sight of the drone dropping to the ground with a thud.
Addy ran past her to pick up her pursuer. “Chimazon trash!” he spat.
Cecile stood up. “I’m sorry.”
He rushed to the walkway and hurled the drone into the river. He turned to her, his hood down revealing the pale, shaven sides of his head. “Not your fault. We were both duped. Come on.” He reached out to her. “We have to go.”
She took his hand and let him lead, asking “Where are we going?”
Addy hurried her down the river walk. “To a safehouse first. Just west of the loop. And then we go way out west probably.”
Cecile stopped, still holding Addy’s hand. “West?”
Addy jerked ahead before realizing she had stopped, then turned to face her. “I know.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, but we have to hide you until the FOG figures this out.”
“What happened?” she squealed.
Addy shushed her and came close, whispering in her ear. “The woman who made the devices turned on us. She went too radical. She told me it was a paint bomb. She lied.” He backed up and gave Cecile a stern look. “Legally, they could call both of us murderers.”
“I didn’t know!” Cecile whispered but the intensity of her guilt overwhelmed her .
“I know. I didn’t either. And Chimazon would love to label us murders. That traitor bugged out somewhere, and now so do we if we don’t want to get caught.”
“How did they find me?”
Addy shrugged. “It was your first job. Could have been anyone who saw you and told the wrong person. Chicago’s compact, we all live on top of each other.” He looked around to make sure they were still safe,. “I don’t think anyone local would have cared about it if it had just been a paint bomb. Wouldn’t have even made the Times. But it killed someone.”
Cecile shook her head. “It hit… it hit my brother.”
Addy, still looking in the air, scrunched his face in confusion. “I’m sorry what?”
“My brother lives in Chimazon. He got hit.”
“Oh man. Oh no. He’s not the one who died is he?”
She shook her head. “Coma. Papa just told me.”
Addy covered his head in his hands. “Dammit. Dammit! I didn’t want you in this deep!”
The two took a moment to let their feelings run their courses. Cecile shivered and sobbed. Addy paced, tugging on his braid as he stared at the river in thought. Turning back and seeing her pain, he came toward her and gave her a hug.
Cecile meekly grabbed his hoodie and wiped her tears. “I can’t go.”
Addy shook his head. “Chimazon will try to make an example of you. It’s not going to be pretty. Jail over there is hard forced labor. Ten hour days for no pay. No weekends. And they won’t let U.S. citizens visit.”
Cecile cried harder. “But I have to see Pierce.”
“Not today. Not tomorrow.”
“But I have to see him!”
“Shhh. We have to get on this boat.”
She backed up and looked down the walkway. Indeed there was a small motorboat about 20 yards away. “But I--”
“Ceci, I got you into this, and I can get you out. You will see and talk to your family again. I’m not going to keep you away from them. But if we don’t leave now, you and I are going to get captured by Chimazon in the middle of the night and then dragged to their kangaroo court.” Addy took her hands into his and squeezed them tight. “I haven’t known you long. I know this is a lot to take in. But you have to trust the FOG. I’m the FOG, and now so are you. And we work better when we roll deep and unseen.”
Cecile closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew Addy was right; Chimazon would stop at nothing to make an example out of any Fighters of Greed. The two organizations were such fierce enemies that Chimazon couldn’t let this attack go without a response. To go into the belly of the beast to see Pierce, who may not even know she was there, would be the end of any potential freedom for the rest of her life. Cecile knew she had too much life in her to let that happen.
After a moment she looked to Addy. She didn’t have to say she was ready. She just squeezed his hand, the only hopeful thing she could cling onto now.
Addy gave a long blink, knowing he was asking too much.
The two walked hand in hand toward the boat. She felt her own phip buzz in her purse. Surprised that she had held onto it through the chase, she reached in to get her phip, letting go of Addy.
He looked to what she was doing and said, “You know you can’t keep that.”
Cecile turned it on to see a message from Papa. How soon? Mama is worried.
Addy could see the message as well, albeit backwards as he faced Cecile. “Give them one last message. When we’re safely bugged out you can probably send them messages."
Cecile took a moment. What to say? What would let them know she was okay? She thought hard about what they would understand.
As Addy began to walk toward the boat again, it hit her. “Papa, sometimes people move for less. But I moved for a lot more. I’m sorry. I’m getting old enough to understand.”
The text showed up in the message window clear as the sky above her. She waited a couple seconds until she could see the ellipses indicating her father was trying to respond. It was then that she tossed her phip into the river.
She ran toward Addy and took his hand once more, fully entering the FOG.
She looked around at the other students in the room, most focused on the formulas and figures dancing in front of them. She saw her friend Leti looking out the window at the spring sun in a cloudless sky. Perfect Chicago weather for her first mission. She glanced to the clock in the corner of her display, where flashing yellow text assured her that “You’re doing very well--keep at it!”. But Cecile could barely manage to keep still until the study hour was over. She bit her lip as she watched the clock hover at 2:59 for what seemed like hours.
With a gentle chime the clock finally ticked over. Cecile jumped away from the display, almost knocking over her stool. The stomp of her feet on the floor made all the students look over. The Teaching Aide, Simon, stood up from his desk in alarm.
“Cecile, why the commotion?” His low voice had a soothing authority, and his broad stature, silhouetted in the sunlight, made him seem almost imposing.
“I’m sorry Simon. Have to go.” Cecile logged her time on her Enkindler before shutting the square projection device off.
“No questions today?” Simon tilted his head as he stepped around his narrow white desk.
“No.” She picked up her small purse and starting toward the open entryway to the hall.
Simon smiled. “Looks like you’re going to conquer physics. Glad to hear it. Don’t disturb your classmates on your way out.”
Cecile looked back, smiled and nodded, and then rushed out of the classroom to her next task.
She exited Von Steuben via the old, restored brick facade preserved during construction of the sleek, glass-walled building that now stood where the old high school originally had. It was where all young adults could complete their secondary education, as well as gather for extracurricular groups.
Repurposed in compliance with International School Standards when the United States had adopted the system, it was a building Cecile was ready to be done with completely. She had been a capable enough student through her primary studies, but then, at 12 years old, Cecile had learned how the neighboring state of Chimazon had been formed.
In 2022, over a century before she was born, what was now referred to as “The Executive Order” had given individual states the ability to grant sovereignty within their own borders. Governors across the country began selling off state parks, neighborhoods, and even whole cities to any company who paid what was considered a fair price to the politicians brokering the deals. Quickly, the map of the United States became pockmarked, as already wealthy people and organizations profited off the new opportunity.
For a decade Illinois had avoided the fate of many of its Rust Belt neighbors, but in 2036 one of the largest global corporate players of the era made an offer that, Illinois politics being what they were, was gladly accepted. As a result, the whole South Side of Chicago was sold off and rebuilt into what would become the sovereign state of Chimazon. Displaced Chicagoans were almost ruined as they lost their homes and businesses. The city had to work hard to accommodate the sudden population shift. Illinois was sued to pay off the exiled citizens, and it took a generation before Chicago had finally stabilized. All children in the ISS learned this history before their primary education was complete.
Cecile only had to look south from where she stood on Kimball avenue to see the stark skyline that now dominated over the crowded city like a thief standing proudly over their victim, the windows twinkling over her neighborhood. For four years she resented it’s looming presence. Today was going to be the day she would do something.
As she returned her thoughts to her meeting, she heard footsteps running toward her. Looking around, she saw Leti, her wild curls flying out of her ponytail as she approached. Cecile drew a deep breath. How was she going to talk her way out of this one?
Leti stopped a couple feet away and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Why’d you rush out of classroom?”
“I have to go. Stop worrying about me.”
“It’s weird, Cecile. I thought we were going to hang out today.”
“I’ll chirp you later. Got to meet someone.”
Leti stepped closer, looking up to her friend with crossed arms. “Who are you meeting that I don’t know?”
“Oh, you’re going to lecture me?” Cecile bobbled around to emphasize her mocking tone. “I’ll be good Mama! Please let me go!”
“Hey! Who do you know not still taking secondary courses?”
“Mags got her cert a month ago.”
“She’s in Cali now. Doesn’t count.”
Cecile rolled her eyes. “Leti, I got to go.”
“Can I come with?”
Cecile began to turn away from her friend. She usually loved how this brilliant girl still looked up to her in earnest. Despite being two years younger, Leti was at the same level of certificate completion as Cecile. She had sped through primary lessons, starting her secondary lesson regimen at the same time as Cecile, and on a similar lesson path. The two chose to do their subject focuses together a lot of the time. Cecile couldn’t say why they two had become so close. They just felt like sisters at this point.
Leti tugged on the back of Cecile’s shirt. “Can I?”
Cecile didn’t even turn around to face her. “You can’t. Can’t tell.”
“Why are you being so weird?”
“Because!”
The silence hung thick on the sidewalk. Cecile walked away without looking back. She knew she had upset Leti, especially after hearing her friend run away from her, the stamp of her feet echoing down the mostly empty street, but Leti was just too young to get caught in this.
Cecile quickened her pace.
3:30 pm. She barely made it to the community garden, a six-story tiered atrium adorned with bright grow lights and lush greenery, much of it just coming into its seasonal color. Cecile walked past the first floor with its fungi and lichen, took the stairs past the second floor of ferns and orchids. She finally arrived to the third floor where most of the produce was being grown. She navigated by the hovering hologram signs, passing the artichokes and carrots before stopping in front of the large area dedicated to leeks. There her contact stood.
He wore a hooded black jacket that helped obscure his pale face and rich dark eyes. He gave an inviting smirk and twirled the end of his long braided mohawk that peeked out and hung to the middle of his chest. The tapping of his black boot on the floor gave Cecile a rhythm to walk to him.
Not wanting to seem too eager, she tried not to rush. “Hi,” she exhaled, forgetting how to speak as her lips began to tremble.
He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, electrifying her. “Don’t be nervous, alright?”
She looked toward the leeks in hopes she wouldn’t blush. “I’m not nervous, Addy.”
He gave a soft laugh. “I was my first time.”
“You were?”
He pulled his hand back as he opened a low jacket pocket. “Of course. Once you’re in the FOG, things can feel pretty real.” He revealed a small square black device, scratched with use. Cecile recognized it as an older model of a Personal Pocket Holo Projector, a common device everyone had to chirp and call each other.
“What’s with the Phip?” She scrunched her brow.
“Today’s not the day.”
Cecile slouched, the excitement draining. “But I’m ready!”
Addy hushed her. “Hey. Be careful how loud you are about the plans.” He handed the phip to her. “Probably in a day or two I’ll have the tools for the job. I’ll reach you on this.”
“Why this one? You have my digits.”
“Do you want to be caught doing this?”
Cecile shook her head, nervously brushing her fingers through her hair at the thought.
“Then use this old phip. If you do well enough, you’ll get one that’ll last more than a week.”
“And be part of the FOG?”
Addy smiled. “You technically already are. You’re just stuck talking with me for now.”
Cecile was perfectly fine with that arrangement. “Okay.”
“Don’t daydream too hard. We wouldn’t give a kid something too exciting.”
“I’m not a kid.”
Addy stifled a laugh. “I remember when I thought that.” He regarded her warmly. “I don’t care how far you are in your certs, you’re still a kid. You have other things to learn than algebra and ecosystems.”
She couldn’t hide the pout she knew wasn’t helping her case. She turned again to the leeks.
“It’s okay. You’ll grow out of it.” Addy took a look around the room, occupied only by themselves and a lone man tending to spinach a few yards away. “I wish I could stay and tell you more, but before a job it’s best we don’t hang out too much.”
Cecile sighed. “That makes sense.”
“After this job I’ll treat you to a tea and pie at this place nearby. First Slice. Know it?”
She nodded and smiled.
“Great. That’s where we’ll go. A celebratory pie. But now I’ll leave first. You stare at the produce another five minutes before you leave too, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Later, Ceci.”
As Addy sauntered away, Cecile had to admit to herself that as much as she hated that nickname, it sounded amazing when he said it.
“What’s with the strawberries?”
Cecile’s mother was in the family’s kitchen, removing some chicken thighs from the freezer, getting ready to cook them with fresh garlic and lemon.
“I… was thinking about them in class today.” Cecile went to the empty kitchen sink and opened the bag.
Before she could dump them out, her mother rushed over. “Hey now! Get a colander. You got to rinse them off first.”
“They’re picked right off the bush, Mama.”
“Oh you think the fertilizer didn’t touch any of those? If you’re not careful you’ll be eating what you were excreting a week ago!”
Mama chuckled at her own joke as she reached into a lower cabinet and pulled out a flat, perforated metal square. “Now set that up and rinse them at least.”
Cecile scoffed as she complied, folding the square into a sharp edged bowl and placing her strawberries in it.
“There you go. How were classes?”
“Okay.”
“See Leti?”
“Of course.” Cecile paused before touching right of the faucet to turn the water on. “I should call her over.”
“Study party?”
“No.”
Mama began mincing the garlic with finesse, the acrid smell filling the kitchen. “What for then?”
“Because.”
“Okay. Because. Should I make enough for her to eat too?”
“I don’t know. I’ll chirp her in a bit.” Cecile thought the strawberries could be a good excuse. Maybe she could say sorry.
Across the home she heard the door gently shut. She turned off the water and dropped the colander in the sink, turning to see her father come in with a blue shopping bag in hand.
“Hi Papa!” She called across the condo, before going back to the colander and putting it on the counter, right next to her mother’s cooking.
Mama wasn’t pleased. “Don’t let it drip dry there, Cecile!”
“Alright!” Cecile returned the colander to the sink.
“Get a bowl.”
“I will!”
Papa made his way into the kitchen, a stern look on his face. “Cecile, you know to give your mother space when she’s cooking. Tomorrow you and I can make something together, okay?”
Cecile turned back to the sink in hopes her parents wouldn’t see her roll her eyes. “I was just washing strawberries.”
Papa came to her and bent down to put a kiss on her forehead. “Want to wash the food I brought home little lady?” He handed his bag to her.
Cecile looked inside to see spinach, asparagus, rhubarb and leeks. A shudder went down her spine. “Where did you get this?”
Papa grinned back. “Community garden. Where else? Had the afternoon off. Mama wanted some things for the next couple dinners and I was thinking of making a pie.” He looked to the sink. “Looks like you have enough strawberries to help out. Want to work on a pie tomorrow?”
Cecile was too worried that Papa had seen her to say anything. She nodded her head and began to back away from the kitchen.
“Good. Mama can rest, then.” Papa walked over and planted a quick kiss on Mama’s cheek as she paused from her mincing. “Lemon garlic chicken?”
“Mmmhmmm,” Mama replied as she focused on her task. “How are you, love?”
“Alright. Just got off the phip with Pierce.”
Cecile’s blood began to boil, forgetting her recent rush of fear. She didn’t want to hear about him.
“Oh.” Mama was quiet. She was prickly about the subject as well. “How’s he?”
“Wants us to visit. Sad about how long it’s been.”
“Of course.”
“Maybe I should go sometime.”
Cecile stormed off, out of the kitchen, through the dining room and into her room, slamming the door closed. In the sudden darkness, she realized that she didn’t want to be alone, but she was too stubborn to change her mind. She stomped to her bed, sat down and dropped her purse. The phip that Addy gave her fell out. Cecile bent down to take a look over it. It must have been at 2157 model, five years old. Who would keep a phip so long? What might be on it?
She turned it over to see the skinny power button. She looked to her door. Mama and Papa would probably leave her alone until dinner. She pressed the button.
Projected on the wall across from her was an image of a hazy sky. After a moment the clouds grew across the wall, overwhelming it. A phrase appeared in the foreground, written in a smokey patterned font.
We shall roll in…
Cecile heard the doorknob turn, and immediately pressed the button. In a flash the image was gone. She hid the phip under her pillow as Papa peeked his head into the shadowed room.
“Cecile, this dark?”
She shrugged. “Computer, window transparency to 75 percent.”
The tall, black glass window across from her bedroom door slowly cleared, letting in the afternoon glow. The yellow light revealed the mess of clothes on the floor, the worn sneakers blocking her small closet, and a computer desk covered in small square projectors, all turned off.
This last thing surprised Papa. “You don’t have your pictures on?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve turned those on for a while.”
Papa stepped in. “I thought they were on last week?”
“I mean, I can turn them on if it would make you feel better?”
As she walked to her desk and started turning on each projection, her father wavered. “I didn’t mean to make you turn them on Cecile.”
“It’s okay.” On the wall near her desk pictures began to project from each device. There was one with her, Leti and Mags from last year, each holding in front of them a huge rainbow sherbet cone. There was one with Cecile and her mother when she was only eight, smiling on the beach in front of a sloppily constructed sand castle. There was one from her Primary School Certificate Ceremony, her parents on either side as she held up the translucent diploma. Her wide grin was distorted behind it, the official stamp’s groves making unnatural sharp turns in her face.
She activated the fourth one and saw herself with Pierce, five years ago. The two of them were sitting on the family couch, its warm brown and beige pattern framing the two of them in their matching blue sweaters. An eleven year old Cecile was hugging her square faced brother fiercely, wearing an exaggerated grin. Pierce had obviously been laughing, but had an arm around her to hug her back. His head leaned over hers.
Cecile took a moment to gaze at it. She hadn’t turned that projector on in a couple of years. She had forgotten she had that picture.
Papa went to stand next to her. “That’s right, Grandma got you guys matching sweaters.”
“Yeah.” Cecile was quiet.
Papa put an arm around her, giving her a welcome side hug. “He’s still your brother.”
“But he’s a traitor now.”
Papa took in a deep breath, as if the response he wanted was just lingering in the air. “He fell in love. Emotions can make you do things that look dumb to other people.”
“Chicagoans don’t move to... ‘Shamazon’.”
“I know. It hurts me too.”
“But you said you’ll visit him.”
Papa tilted his head as he answered. “I would. He didn’t go there to hurt us. He went there because that’s where the woman he loves is. Grandma moved to Chicago for Grandpa. People move for love all the time.” He chuckled. “People move for less. I know you’re going to hate me saying this.”
“Saying what?”
“That you’ll understand when you’re older.”
Cecile gently thumped her head into her father, still hugging him back. She did hate him saying that, but that was all the protest she could muster.
The next morning, Cecile waited on the sidewalk outside of Von Steuben for an hour, making sure she wouldn’t miss Leti walking in to start lessons for the day. It forced her to look toward the towering Chimazon skyline. The wind kept blowing into her face, as if the nation that stole her brother was irritating her out of spite. She was wiping a rogue eyelash out of her eye when she finally spotted her friend.
“Leti!" She ran over, past some of their classmates who were also heading in for lessons. “Leti! Can we talk?”
With a pout and a shrug, Leti stopped in place and let Cecile approach her.
Cecile forced a hug on her shorter friend. Leti’s curls tickled her face and caused her to smile. “I’m sorry for yesterday, okay?”
Leti didn’t hug back. “Okay.”
Cecile pulled back, keeping her hands on Leti’s shoulders. “Really. I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m doing some serious stuff now.”
Leti’s eyes went wide. “How serious?”
“Pretty close to full-blown adult serious.”
“Is it another pretty guy you’re obsessing over?”
Cecile smirked. Leti knew her too well.
“It is!”
“Pretty guy, okay?”
“That’s not worth making your friend mad at you, Cecile.”
Cecile giggled. “But this guy is so pretty!”
“Tell me about him!”
“Not yet, okay?”
“Why is it a secret?”
“I told you! Full blown adult stuff.”
“You didn’t make it with him, did you?”
“No!” Cecile shrieked. Some of the other young people around Von Steuben looked at her quizzically. She could feel the red coming through her face.
Leti laughed even harder. “Oh man! Okay, okay, you didn’t. Cecile, the look on your face!”
“Stop it Leti!”
“I stopped!” Leti gave Cecile a reassuring hug as the two finally laughed off the fight they had started not even a day before. For a moment the two held each other as they fought to stifle their giggles. Leti finally added, “Okay, you just have to tell me what it’s like when you do make it.”
Cecile shook her head. “I shouldn’t, he’s much older.”
“18?”
“23.”
Leti gasped.
“Full. Blown. Adult.”
“You’re making it sound like you made it with this guy!”
“Shhh!” Cecile looked around, but their peers were ignoring them again. “Look, I can’t tell you anything until it’s all over. It’s secret stuff.”
Leti jokingly raised her eyebrows. “Secret adult stuff? Pants off stuff?”
“Leti!” Cecile kept to a hushed tone. “Seriously! It’s definitely bigger than that. I can’t tell you yet though. Maybe later.”
“Like when?”
“Maybe in the next week?” Cecile took Leti’s hand and walked over. “Let’s start physics first today. I don’t want to have to worry about it. I may have to leave early.”
“Wait why? Oh…”
In unison the two looked at each other as they just repeated “Full blown adult stuff.” They then rushed in, Cecile leading Leti back to the building so they could start their day in the Sciences lesson room.
Cecile and Leti spent almost two hours reviewing physics together before they decided to split up. Leti wanted to focus on algebra lessons next, but Cecile was tired of formulas, so she waved goodbye and headed to the first floor, to the Literature classroom. As she walked down the stairs, she felt a buzz in her purse. She reached in and pulled out her phip, only to see that the indicator light wasn’t lit. She paused at the bottom of the stairs before realizing it wasn’t her personal phip that had received a message.
She looked around. It was right before lunch hour. She could sneak out the front without most people noticing. Being 16 also meant that unlike Leti, she couldn’t be charged with truancy if she didn’t stay in lessons for at least 6 hours. She was still cautious, hoping no one would see her as she walked out the large, creaky doors to the street. She tried to feign confidence with her back straight and her eyes ahead, but the swiftness of her pace revealed her nervous energy.
She walked North two blocks until she found an alleyway to sneak into, the wind now stronger than before as she fumbled in her purse for the phip that had seen better days. A dark grey building provided the surface for her to project the holo-display from the phip, the same rolling cloud motif now decorated with an orange dot in the right corner. She poked the hovering dot with her hand, the gesture in the air all that was needed to show her message center. Only one was in the list, from a contact that had been entered under “OP 09.27.86”.
Got the stuff for the job. Too soon for leeks meet. Twig east side of W arch.
Cecile understood and rushed towards her fate.
She beat Addy to the tall oak tree on the west side of the Wilson bridge. There was a small bench before the public promenade that hovered on the shore of the Chicago River. Long grass draped over the rough-patterned path, an empty route except for a couple of rogue squirrels skittering their way to a nearby bird feeder. Cecile looked to the rows of houses, their old brick and wood frames now carrying solar panel shingles and their thin gutters now leading to rain water stores. Stone patios surrounded by buffalo grass continued down until the next bridge in sight, each one in a simple pattern distinct from all the others. The one near the bird feeder had a faux fire pit still projecting blue flames, presumably from the home owners having entertained the evening before. She wondered if her brother missed having backyard parties living in such a constrained, overbuilt area. Conglomerate culture could never balance the urban with the natural, not as well as Chicago had learned to over the centuries.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Addy, hood of his jacket up and a serious look on his face. “Ceci, you ready?” He took a seat close to her.
She spun her whole body toward him. “Let’s roll in the FOG,” she whispered.
“Glad you’re keeping it discreet.” He brought his small backpack, weathered and gray, onto his lap. “Bring your purse up quick.”
She obliged.
He opened the main compartment of his pack and reached in to pull out a brown plastic device with a few black wires attached to the sides. “Here’s the deal. Truck is going to stop and glitch right in front of the alley near your home around 2:30ish today. It always does on that route. When it does, get to its back door and use this adhesive pad to stick this on.” Addy flipped the device over to reveal a yellow rectangle on its back. “Peel the cover and just stick it. Then you got to activate it.” He turned it back up and pointed to two crude black buttons sticking out on one end, looking like a beetle’s eyes. “You have to press both buttons at the same time to make sure it’s active. Hold them for a couple seconds. Then go home like nothing happened.” He placed the device in her purse.
Cecile watched Addy’s hand slowly exit her bag. “What’s it going to do?”
“Paint bombs. Damages the goods. Eating profits.”
“That’s it?”
Addy smirked. “This time, yes. Don’t look disappointed. It sends a message. We’re starting to increase these attacks. Takes out some of their profits.”
“Will it go off right away?”
“Pfft. No. Of course not. Takes 30 minutes, it’s going to be on it’s way to Kenosha or something like that when it ruins all that Chimazon trash in its compartment.”
“Why does it stop by us?”
“Goes to some ISS hubs for deliveries here. Probably the one you go to. Stueben, right?”
Cecile didn’t answer. She just looked over Addy’s beautiful face. She had to prove to him she was in it for the long haul. Then they could stay connected. A fleeting cinematic image of the two of them standing over the smoldering rubble of Chimazon flashed in her mind. Could they do it?
“Anyway,” Addy continued, “it just glitches into a programmed path right on your street. By the alley. Luckily I figured that out.”
“Yeah.”
“You okay, Ceci?”
Cecile shuddered. She hoped her face hadn’t looked too far away as she daydreamed. “Yeah, I just look forward to proving myself. Want to do more.”
“This is a good first step. Pull this off we can trust you with more delicate stuff that goes down the can and strings.”
“The can and… what?”
Addy let out a quick chuckle. “You’ll get it soon enough.” He went to stand up. “Better go before we’re seen. Path is quiet this time of day.” He took a step toward the river walk before he turned back. “Oh! I’ll message you when I hear it’s done. Don’t reach out to me. We have people who confirm, peer through the mists so to speak.” He then spun around and casually strode down to the path over the river, leaving Cecile to gaze at him as she fantasized a future where she could hold his hand as they walked down the street.
The wind had picked up again as Cecile waited in the wide alleyway near home. The older concrete buildings covered in dark panels and adjustable tint windows didn’t block the gusts that tried to topple her over. She was crouching behind a silver dumpster, one that smelled particularly bad since it was the composting receptacle for the block. Cecile thought she was clever hiding behind the one structure that smelled so awful no one would want to look at it, despite the constant assault of new and surprising odors that made her gag. Her imagination ran wild pondering what might be hidden and rotting in the container next to her.
Shaking off one of those wild thoughts, she finally saw the truck cross the alleyway. It slowed down, a navy blue rectangle adorned with the orange arrow logo that Chimazon had designed as a pattern to wrap the whole contraption. The only opening was the doors on the back, every other inch of it devoted only to storing cargo. On top sat a transparent dark dome with a blinking red light. Cecile knew that most self-driving trucks had a similar device on top but normally the light was steady. She assumed this was the glitch Addy had mentioned earlier.
She took a few seconds to ease her way up from behind the dumpster, looking around to see if anyone was in the alley or the street. Remembering her cover, she snatched the device out of her purse and straightened. She took a wide stride and kept her chin up, mimicking the maturity she thought necessary for the task. She could do this. She had to. She didn’t want to let the FOG down after they had let her in.
With her exaggerated gait, she approached the back of the truck, the tall blue and orange doors intimidating Cecile. She couldn’t remember if she ever had been this close to a Chimazon truck before, or to any truck for that matter. With most Chicagoans taking public transit, she knew few people that even owned a small personal vehicle. This was like an alien monolith from a hostile land roaming near her home.
She struggled for a moment peeling the protective cover from the adhesive on the device, then stuck the bug-eyed gadget right on the center of the doors. She pressed the two buttons, counting to three as she held them, and then released. Cecile skipped off gleefully for a few steps before remembering she was supposed to act casual, then forced herself to walk calmly home, trying to think of the story she would tell her parents when they realized she left her classes earlier than usual.
Cecile was shrouded in the darkness of her room, fumbling idly with the phip Addy had given her. She had remembered to not contact him or tell anyone about her success. She hoped he would contact her soon. It had been several hours, and checking the news feeds had been fruitless. No word on any trucks attacked or anything like it.
There was a knock on her door. “Cecile?” Papa called out.
She shoved the illicit phip under a pillow and faked a groan. “Yeah?”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, alright.”
The door slowly opened, Papa peeking his head in. “How’s the headache?”
“Better.” She rolled her self up, sitting with bad posture on the bed. She pulled a sheet off of her.
“I know this may have been more your thing as a little girl, but I’m about to put the lattice top on the pie. Want to help?”
Cecile perked up. “Oh! Yeah… okay yeah.” She swung her legs around and stood up straight from the bed.
Papa laughed. “You must be better. Come on."
She followed him past the dining room to the kitchen. There on the counter was the untopped pie and a sheet of pie pastry dough ready to be cut.
Papa went to a drawer and pulled out the small pastry cutter. “That’s for you.” He handed it to her.
Cecile took it by the handle and turned to face the task at hand. “How thick?”
“Less than an inch I think.”
“Okay.” She used her pointer and middle finger on her left hand to approximate the width of the dough strips, and moved the rolling blade with her right, cutting slowly to keep the strips as even as possible.
Papa watched her cut two strips before he said, “You’re really good for someone who doesn’t precut.”
Cecile tilted her head. “Thanks?”
Papa laughed. “Yeah, sure. You’re welcome.” He looked out past the kitchen before regarding Cecile. “Did you know I saw you at the community garden yesterday?”
She froze. “No.”
“You didn’t?”
She shook her head, contemplating on whether or not she should continue cutting the dough. The lines wouldn’t be as straight if Papa kept prying. She kept her eyes ahead as she considered her options.
“Made a new friend I saw.”
“Um, yeah he’s a friend.”
“Older friend.”
“Not by much.”
Papa scoffed. “Let me guess, 25?”
“No,” she whined, “he’s younger than that.”
“Not by much I’d bet. Where did you meet him?”
“I…” Cecile had to think of something, anything other than a FOG forum. “I think I met him when Leti and I were out a couple weeks ago.”
“You mean when you two went to the beach?” Papa’s voice went shrill.
Cecile rushed to calm him down. “No! Like afterward. We got ice cream. He said hi.”
“No friends with him, no partner with him, nothing?”
“I… I think his friends had just left.”
Papa crossed his arms. “Cecile, this guy is too old for you. I could tell he made your heart skip a beat, you blushing in front of produce like you hadn’t seen leeks before.”
“Papa!” It was her turn to be shrill.
“Cecile I’m looking out for you. I don’t mind if you decide to go out with someone your age, but you can’t be having secret meetings with a full blown adult. You understand?”
“I’m not going with him, Papa.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Just being friends!”
“Oh, okay. What do you two have in common?” Papa leaned over to look down at Cecile, who’s eyes were still fixed on the pastry dough.
“Um..” She bit her lip. “We both like… strawberries?”
“For the love of… Cecile. I get it. He’s nice looking to you. Maybe even Mama would think he’s pretty too. I don’t care. Adults go with adults, and teenagers don’t go with adults. No partnering up with anyone that old.” Papa stepped in to take Cecile’s place, taking the rolling blade out of her hand and gently pushing her aside. “You’re almost old enough to go out there and make your own mistakes, but I’m going to protect you from one that steals you from us.”
“Addy isn’t stealing me!” Her whining was more exaggerated. She knew it didn’t make her sound as mature as she knew she was, as mature as a FOG operative had to be.
“Older men take young girls like you because they want to use you. They don’t think you know any better than to partner up with someone who will treat them like manure.”
“You let Pierce get stolen four years ago!”
Papa threw the rolling blade in the sink in frustration. As it slammed into the ceramic basin Cecile jumped back, surprised by the outburst.
“Dammit,” Papa said under his breath, as he shook his arms and took a couple deep breaths, tempering his anger. He slowly turned to see a wide eyed Cecile, clutching her hands over her chest. “Cecile, Gina didn’t steal your brother.”
“She stole him away to to Chimazon!”
“They fell in love and now Pierce and Gina are living literally less than an hour away and you never come visit.”
“Because he’s a traitor! Chimazon was Chicago and now he lives where those thieving crap-atalists took part of our city! You told me that’s where Grandpa’s family was from and now--”
“Cecile, I don’t know why you’re obsessed about a ‘crime’ that happened almost a century and a half ago, but you need to get over it. I’m over it, Grandpa was over it, and even Grandpa’s grandpa was over it well before I was in the picture. Yes, we used to live in the south side of Chicago, and we were very proud. We are proud. But things change, and Gina has nothing to do with something that happened before her own great grandparents were born.”
Cecile could feel tears welling up as she started to yell. “He never came back!”
“Who never--oh, Pierce.” Papa took a step back.
“He married Gina and then never came back in Chicago! They work him to death so he never comes and--”
“No, they don’t.”
“Yes they do!”
“Who told you that?”
“You did!”
Papa put his head in his hands. “Who is ‘they’, Chimazon?”
“Yeah.”
He dragged his fingers across his face and then shook them off. “No, they don’t. He works himself to death. He works very hard. He and Gina have a small apartment. He wants to live there like he did in Chicago, but it means he has to work a lot more. So he works a lot more.”
“But doesn’t that mean Chimazon is making him work?”
“He could always move back here and get a standard home twice the size instead, but Pierce made a choice. He chose to keep Gina happy, so he’s working twice as hard over there to get what he wants too, so they can both be happy together.”
“Why can’t Chimazon just--”
“Cecile, you have to give it a break. Pierce chose to move. He’s not dead, you can see him tomorrow even if you can get off this… hate-fix you have for where he calls home. Just give it a break.” Papa took another deep breath before adding, “And if you’re so worried about him, he’d be worried sick to know his sister is dating some creep that looks older than him!”
Cecile just stood there with tears falling. She couldn’t understand. Why would Pierce leave them for a place where he would have to work twice as hard to get half as much? Why would Gina let him do that? Why would Mama and Papa not stop him?
“Hey…” Papa tried to open his arms and come close.
“No!” Cecile ran away from the hug, rushing back into her room and slamming the door. She jumped onto her bed, buried her face into her pillow, and tried to keep quiet as she wept like the baby she felt she was that moment.
When Cecile finally rolled out of bed in the morning, she had only a vague idea of the time. She had fallen in and out of sleep all night, waiting for the phip Addy gave her to buzz. She stood up and turned it on, projecting it on the blank wall above her desk. The home screen had the same grey rolling clouds. She looked to see if she was able to access a news feed, but after maneuvering the holographic projection with a frustrated flick of her fingers confirmed that its only option was to chirp someone through the messaging app. She turned off the projection and slammed the phip on her desk. She found her purse on the floor and pulled out her own phip, opening it to reveal the background with her, Leti and Mags making silly faces for the photo. She cracked a smile, a dose of joy she needed, and then pulled up the local news feed. Illuminated in front of her were the top three headlines.
MAYOR WILLEMS CITES EASTERN NATION SHAKE UPS FOR POPULATION INCREASE
CHICAGO’S FIRST “MEATLESS MONDAY” MARKET TO OPEN NEXT WEEK
JUST IN: “FIGHTERS OF GREED” ATTACK CHIMAZON TRUCK, 6 INJURED
Cecile gasped as she read the last one. That couldn’t have been her truck, could it?CHICAGO’S FIRST “MEATLESS MONDAY” MARKET TO OPEN NEXT WEEK
JUST IN: “FIGHTERS OF GREED” ATTACK CHIMAZON TRUCK, 6 INJURED
On her desk, the illicit phip danced. She quickly turned hers off and switched it with the other, seeing a message alert from the same 09.27.86 contact.
Confirmed success. Good job. 1st slice at fourteen?
She took in a deep breath. That headline probably wasn’t hers, since Addy didn’t mention it. With a wide smile she agonized over her reply, one to reflect her now-proven maturity. She spoke to the phip so it could type her response verbatim. “Yeah. Crowded weekends. That okay?”
She jumped as the yellow ellipses confirmed a response was eminent. The seconds dragged on as she anticipated the reply.
Yeah. My treat. To celebrate.
Cecile thought Leti would want to meet the pretty guy that had distracted her. “Can I bring a friend?”
Sure. There was a pause before he added, Helps with the cover. We’ll talk about org details another day.
“Yeah. Cool. See you then.”
Cecile hopped in place in celebration. Addy had said she was already part of the FOG, but it felt real now. She knew she had done something good.
From past the door she heard Mama call, “Cecile! Come eat something.”
She froze. Mama may have heard her jumping. She may have to cover for that. She quieted her nerves, buried the smirk on her face, and finally went to the door. She peeked out to see Mama at the head of the dining room table, looking at the news feed on her own phip. The seat to the right of Mama had a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie, topped with now melting whipped cream. Cecile pouted. Mama had probably made that fresh hours ago. The crust may be soggy by now.
Mama saw her and motioned her over. “Come sit. Just reading the doom and gloom.”
Cecile obliged, taking the fork by the plate. “Pie for breakfast?”
Mama smiled. “It’s finally the weekend! Let’s celebrate.” She looked on as Cecile dug in. “Papa did a good job, didn’t he?”
Cecile nodded, then covered her mouth before she spoke. “Mmhmm. I have to tell him.”
“Later today. He decided to go visit Pierce.”
Cecile dropped her fork, it clanging on the plate.
“I know. Don’t get too upset but I know. I’m not sure if he’ll even get in. Fighters of Greed made another attack. Border control is going to be tight.”
Cecile swallowed her food, deciding to play dumb. “There was an attack?”
“Looks like. Truck bomb. Full blown bomb this time. Said some people are injured, but the Times isn’t getting the scoop. You know how Chimazon wants to promote their own news service. Probably holding it for that awful show Snippets or something like that.” Mama rolled her eyes. “Never going to download that in a million years.”
“Oh.” Cecile pondered as she took another slice of pie. A bomb? Technically what she put on the truck was a bomb, but it was only supposed to injure the cargo, not any people. She chewed it over.
Mama kept watch over her. “Papa let me know about your fight. Sounds like he’s confused about it.” She put an idle hand through Cecile’s hair. “Are you?”
Cecile shook her head. “No. He just keeps acting like it’s okay Pierce is over there.”
“I know. Papa just wants us to be happy and together again.” Mama turned off her phip’s projection and her face went solemn. “I know he doesn’t want us mad at Gina. And I don’t want you mad at her either. People fall in love.”
Cecile rolled her eyes.
“I’m just mad at myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I taught you two why those corporate shams of nations are unsafe and unfair. America tried really hard after The Executive Order to become a better place to live. And it was better, even by the time Chimazon was stolen from Chicago. They waited ten years before revealing the corrupt shit they were--” Mama gasped and caught herself. “I’m sorry. I’m angry. You know what I’m saying.”
Cecile slowly nodded, looking to her mother while wondering if any other trucks had been targeted.
“I raised you two to be proud of where you’re from and where your family is from. And Pierce just moving to Chimazon just… well it means he wasn’t as proud as I thought.” Mama began to tear up. “That place is the opposite of everything good in America. You pay for everything, they don’t care about the environment until the rest of the world boycotts their cheap trash, half of their workers live in pods smaller than your bed but work more than 40 hours a week. And he chose that… over home.”
Mama finally had to look away, wiping tears from her face. Cecile had lost her appetite for pie. She stood up and hugged Mama, a tight grip as if to squeeze out the grief.
Mama wrapped her arms back and started to cry more. “Oh little lady. Never move to some goddamn corporate mess you got that? You deserve so much better.”
Cecile began to cry back. “Yeah. I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah.”
The two took the time they needed to sob into each other’s arms.
It was already 2:05 as Leti and Cecile sat on the covered patio at First Slice, near the old station decorated with informational holograms about what had been the original “el” train system. Cecile looked as the words and images jumped around from screen to screen while a handful of people read them over.
“Tea’s cool enough,” Leti said.
Cecile turned back to see Leti take a sip of her lemongrass and ginger. The large cup she held with both hands made her face look small.
Cecile looked down at her cup of earl grey. The rich bergamot pleased her nose, and she let a smile cross her face. She took it by the handle, and looked past Leti as she took a sip.
“See?”
Cecile finished her sip. “Yeah. It’s right.”
“You sure this guy is coming?”
“It’s only been five.”
“You’re looking around all worried.”
Leti was right. Five minutes for anyone else wasn’t a cause for alarm, but Addy was typically prompt. Cecile feared something must have gone wrong.
Looking back to the old station, she saw something in her periphery. She squinted as behind a hologram, a dark shape seemed to hover.
Her purse buzzed. Cecile first pulled out the old phip, but it wasn’t the one. She then dug up her own phip and placed it in front of her on the table, next to her tea. When she projected the home screen, in green light it declared Papa is ringing you. Answer?
Leti looked on. “Why not just a chirp?”
Cecile pressed the button to answer. There was no image, so she said “Papa?”
“Cecile.” His tone was low and quiet. “Have your earbuds?”
“No, remember I lost them?”
“Where are you?”
“Out with Leti.”
She heard Papa let out a long exhale. “Cecile just get home right now.”
“Why?”
“I can’t tell you without an earbud.”
“But I have--” she caught herself, not wanting to anger Papa about Addy. “I promised Leti we would hang out today. I can’t just leave.”
“You going to leave right now. Mama and you got to meet me here with Pierce.”
Cecile straightened her back and perked her ears. “Why?”
“I don’t want to tell you, you just--”
“Papa you can’t make me go to Chimazon, okay?”
There was a pause as he started to grumble a response.
“I don’t care what you’re going to say. I’m not going over there to see Pierce. It’s not fair. Why doesn’t he come over here?”
“Dammit Cecile! Your brother is in a coma!”
Leti gasped so loudly the two women at the next table over turned around to stare. She sipped her tea to hide her embarrassment, realizing the volume of her shock was too loud.
Cecile stared ahead, still as stone. She could feel any calm in her erode away.
“Did you hear me?” Papa was almost at a yell.
“Uh. Papa?”
“Yes.”
“You said coma?”
There was a pregnant pause before he said, “Yes.”
“How?”
“Those awful FOGs. Fighters of Glut or whatever they are. Bomb had shrapnel in it, and a piece hit Pierce in the head. He’s lucky. One other person died.”
“Wait! How was he near the truck?” Cecile tried to keep her voice to a whisper. Leti’s nervous looks around indicated that she was not succeeding.
“You know about this?”
Cecile bit her lip as she made up an explanation. “Mama told me.”
“She knew about it?”
“On the news feeds this morning.”
“Well I don’t know what she read, but this bomb was meant to do some horrible damage.” He fell silent again.
“Papa?”
“It was horrible. It did what it was supposed to.”
Cecile gripped the table as she looked at the phip, hoping something would change the story. Was this a joke? Was it a dream? What could make this no longer real?
“Get home to Mama, little lady,” Papa pleaded, beginning to sob.
Cecile began to nod her head as she pushed back from the table.
“Get home, okay?”
“Okay Papa.”
“I have to go. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She quickly turned off her phip and buried it in her purse. She could feel the hot tears starting to roll. Leti set down her tea cup and stood up. “Cecile, wait. Look at that.”
Cecile followed to where Leti was pointing. Just a couple yards away was a single-propeller drone, the whirling orange blades making a halo for the navy blue box they carried. From where she stood, she could see that it had a recording lens. In that moment she asked herself how did she let this happen.
As she covered her face with her hair and shoved her phip in her purse, she felt the buzz.
“Oh no,” she muttered. Without hesitation she ran out to the street.
“Cecile!” Leti called out. “Where are you going?”
She winced as her friend called out her name. Did the drone record sound?
“Cecile!”
She got across the street and began to sprint. “Bye Leti!” She turned to cross the old tracks and tried to go down an alley. She went until it dead-ended at the river. She looked to see an open gate into a backyard, covered in tall buffalo grass. She sprinted then slid on the grass, scraping her bare elbows. She gritted her teeth at the pain and then rolled onto her back. She was in the yard of a large house, probably held three families. The windows were all dimmed dark. She figured no one was looking outside.
Cecile reached into her purse and felt for the illicit phip. She turned her head to the side and turned it on, praying the projection would stay shorter than the plants hiding her now.
Just under the height of the grass, the cloud screen came on, indicating a message from 09.27.86. Cecile placed the phip on the ground and opened the messages.
SNAFU. TWIG EAST SIDE W ARCH ASAP.
Another message had been sent less than a minute after the first.
LET ME SAVE YOU FROM THEM.
Cecile began to shake. Save her from whom, Chimazon? What would Chimazon do?
She heard the whir of a drone above her. She shut off the phip and did her best to lay perfectly still, slowly turning her head until she could see the clear blue sky above. As she feared, the orange and blue drone hovered right above her. How would she escape?
The drone began to drift around in circles. She waited an agonizing couple of minutes, hoping it would backtrack to find her, but to her dismay, it continued to hover around the yard. She raised her head a couple inches to try to see if there were another hiding place. Peeking above the yellow-green blades of grass was the fence to the next yard. Cecile wondered if she could get the drone to fly in the opposite direction. She could then hop over the fence and lose it. The meeting spot at Wilson bridge was not too far, she could get there in just a couple minutes if she ran. Cecile gripped the old phip, figuring the FOG could forgive her if it meant getting Chimazon off her trail.
With a quick flick she turned it on and then sent it skidding out of the yard, all the way to the sidewalk. The drone noticed it, and then rushed after it. Cecile sprang up and ran toward the fence. She leapt over it like an Olympic hurdler , spooking a neighbor who had been sitting in solitude just a moment ago. Ignoring the woman’s calls for explanation, Cecile rushed around the house and across the front lawn, almost tripping over some decorative thistles and dusty millers before reaching the front gate and opening it. Nowt she had hard, clear sidewalk under her feet as she rushed past the other homes. She could only hear her heartbeat booming in her eardrums as she kept her eyes on the path ahead. She made it to the bridge in record time. The sun glittered in the dark river to her left, the sleek empty road to the right. Ahead was the entrance to the walkway with the tree, where she had just been the day before.
She turned the corner to the bench, expecting to see Addy. He wasn’t there. She ran over and then looked down the stairway. He said he would be here. Why would he be gone now?
Cecile turned around looking back. Maybe she had beat Addy there? She looked up in time to realize that the drone had succeeded in finding her again.
“Duck!” a voice behind her ordered.
Cecile did so. She heard boots running up and then a sharp electric crunch in the air. Looking up, she caught sight of the drone dropping to the ground with a thud.
Addy ran past her to pick up her pursuer. “Chimazon trash!” he spat.
Cecile stood up. “I’m sorry.”
He rushed to the walkway and hurled the drone into the river. He turned to her, his hood down revealing the pale, shaven sides of his head. “Not your fault. We were both duped. Come on.” He reached out to her. “We have to go.”
She took his hand and let him lead, asking “Where are we going?”
Addy hurried her down the river walk. “To a safehouse first. Just west of the loop. And then we go way out west probably.”
Cecile stopped, still holding Addy’s hand. “West?”
Addy jerked ahead before realizing she had stopped, then turned to face her. “I know.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, but we have to hide you until the FOG figures this out.”
“What happened?” she squealed.
Addy shushed her and came close, whispering in her ear. “The woman who made the devices turned on us. She went too radical. She told me it was a paint bomb. She lied.” He backed up and gave Cecile a stern look. “Legally, they could call both of us murderers.”
“I didn’t know!” Cecile whispered but the intensity of her guilt overwhelmed her .
“I know. I didn’t either. And Chimazon would love to label us murders. That traitor bugged out somewhere, and now so do we if we don’t want to get caught.”
“How did they find me?”
Addy shrugged. “It was your first job. Could have been anyone who saw you and told the wrong person. Chicago’s compact, we all live on top of each other.” He looked around to make sure they were still safe,. “I don’t think anyone local would have cared about it if it had just been a paint bomb. Wouldn’t have even made the Times. But it killed someone.”
Cecile shook her head. “It hit… it hit my brother.”
Addy, still looking in the air, scrunched his face in confusion. “I’m sorry what?”
“My brother lives in Chimazon. He got hit.”
“Oh man. Oh no. He’s not the one who died is he?”
She shook her head. “Coma. Papa just told me.”
Addy covered his head in his hands. “Dammit. Dammit! I didn’t want you in this deep!”
The two took a moment to let their feelings run their courses. Cecile shivered and sobbed. Addy paced, tugging on his braid as he stared at the river in thought. Turning back and seeing her pain, he came toward her and gave her a hug.
Cecile meekly grabbed his hoodie and wiped her tears. “I can’t go.”
Addy shook his head. “Chimazon will try to make an example of you. It’s not going to be pretty. Jail over there is hard forced labor. Ten hour days for no pay. No weekends. And they won’t let U.S. citizens visit.”
Cecile cried harder. “But I have to see Pierce.”
“Not today. Not tomorrow.”
“But I have to see him!”
“Shhh. We have to get on this boat.”
She backed up and looked down the walkway. Indeed there was a small motorboat about 20 yards away. “But I--”
“Ceci, I got you into this, and I can get you out. You will see and talk to your family again. I’m not going to keep you away from them. But if we don’t leave now, you and I are going to get captured by Chimazon in the middle of the night and then dragged to their kangaroo court.” Addy took her hands into his and squeezed them tight. “I haven’t known you long. I know this is a lot to take in. But you have to trust the FOG. I’m the FOG, and now so are you. And we work better when we roll deep and unseen.”
Cecile closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew Addy was right; Chimazon would stop at nothing to make an example out of any Fighters of Greed. The two organizations were such fierce enemies that Chimazon couldn’t let this attack go without a response. To go into the belly of the beast to see Pierce, who may not even know she was there, would be the end of any potential freedom for the rest of her life. Cecile knew she had too much life in her to let that happen.
After a moment she looked to Addy. She didn’t have to say she was ready. She just squeezed his hand, the only hopeful thing she could cling onto now.
Addy gave a long blink, knowing he was asking too much.
The two walked hand in hand toward the boat. She felt her own phip buzz in her purse. Surprised that she had held onto it through the chase, she reached in to get her phip, letting go of Addy.
He looked to what she was doing and said, “You know you can’t keep that.”
Cecile turned it on to see a message from Papa. How soon? Mama is worried.
Addy could see the message as well, albeit backwards as he faced Cecile. “Give them one last message. When we’re safely bugged out you can probably send them messages."
Cecile took a moment. What to say? What would let them know she was okay? She thought hard about what they would understand.
As Addy began to walk toward the boat again, it hit her. “Papa, sometimes people move for less. But I moved for a lot more. I’m sorry. I’m getting old enough to understand.”
The text showed up in the message window clear as the sky above her. She waited a couple seconds until she could see the ellipses indicating her father was trying to respond. It was then that she tossed her phip into the river.
She ran toward Addy and took his hand once more, fully entering the FOG.
Wow, d20sapphire, I loved this! A great glimpse into this corporate future of Earth that you've constructed for us, and an interesting protagonist! Of I could offer any advice at all, I would try to explain some of the items in more detail. Phips, for instance, don't really mean much to me, and might not mean much to the average reader (we can't have interlinks in a book, remember!). Otherwise, great work, liked and followed, see you later :D
Thank you so much for the kind words and suggestions! Yes I have had some suggestions on expanding a bit, and luckily I'm under enough in the word count to do that. Hopefully in the next couple of days(maybe even today) I'll have time to tweak it enough to expand on those small ideas. Hope to see you around the forge. :D