Horizon Down

Chapter 2

2

Ren Flanahey tucked a pile of school books into her backpack.

She joined a stream of children into the dark hallways of Empire Middle School Hive Three Thousand and Two.

The hall sloped upward, and wrapped around in a large circle. The walls were orange and glistening like the walls of a honeycomb.

She walked quietly with the other students, who walked with sullen faces. A drone bot with a television flew overhead, and a teacher’s head appeared on the screen.

“Students, as the weekend approaches, I would like you to take time to appreciate the glory of our empire.”

The drone sped ahead, repeating the message.

“Yes, we celebrate the glory of our empire,” the children said mechanically.

Ren said the words without feeling them, without meaning them, like she had for seventeen years.

Someone nudged Ren.

Her friend, Harlow. Well, more than a friend.

He was built like a young soldier. Bald and tattooed on the face—swirls on his cheeks—he was buff and handsome.

“Spaceship Calc was brutal today,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

She had spilled soda on her uniform at lunch, and there was a gruesome stain near her stomach. She turned so that he didn't see it.

“Glory be to the empire,” Harlow said.

“Glory,” Ren said.

“When is your emergence?” Harlow asked. “I just got mine. I've been assigned.”

Assigned.

Emergence.

The time when all of her friends were plucked away, sent onto career tracks in the military, teaching, or science fields. With the hive lottery system, she would never see them again.

She would never see Harlow again.

She knew she shouldn't have gotten attached. No one got attached. It made life easier when Emergence happened. But she'd done it, and now she felt pain, pain unlike anything she'd ever felt in her life. She wanted to cover her ears, to grab his hand, to run, far, far away, over the top of the hive city and into the flat plains so they could get away, be free, free—free—before the somber reality of adulthood sunk in. The somber reality that she was never free, never would be, and that her life was predestined.

“I ship off tomorrow,” he said.

“Oh,” she said.

They walked outside into the moonlight.

The hive city seemed to swirl up into the stars. The lights of embedded pod homes glittered against the earthen walls. The twin moons, red and yellow, were bright in the gray sky.

A line of pod trams waited. The children lined up and entered. The pods zipped away on circular tracks, upward into the city.

The air was crisp, the moonlight pale on her skin, and the goosebumps on her arms popped up the moment she walked into the night air.

“This is goodbye,” Harlow said. “It's been great.”

She sighed.

“So you just leave?” she asked.

They walked to a line.

“It's better this way,” Harlow said. “We’re not even supposed to be dating. Or talking. Glory must first be to the empire.”

“Screw the empire,” she whispered. “What would it be like to live like they do in other galaxies? To be free?”

Harlow shushed her.

“You want to get us killed?”

“You didn't say that when we were alone yesterday,” she said.

“The military needs me,” Harlow said. “And I have to listen. We all do. Maybe you'll be chosen and we’ll cross paths in a few decades, Ren.”

She turned away and ignored him.

“Fine,” she said. “Goodbye.”

“Glory be to the empire,” Harlow said.

She didn't reply.

She didn't want to say anything.

Her boyfriend of five weeks, who had kissed her already, was leaving.

A drone bot hovered over her and the teacher looked at her.

“Glory be to the empire,” she said reluctantly, and scowling.

When she turned away, Harlow was gone, disappeared into another crowd.

The line thinned out and she approached the pod tram, a silver ball designed for ten.

She climbed onboard with the other sullen children, and she became one of them.

There could be no tears.

There could be no emotion.

Such things from a minor were grounds for demerits against their parents.

Yet she couldn't help but wipe away a tear as she stepped off the pod tram.

She still hadn't received her Emergence date yet.

Her life hung in the balance.

Would she emerge? Would she be a sacrifice, cast into the deepest bowels of the hive?

She walked into the entrance of her caverned neighborhood. The walls were cool and thin, with pods glinting in the darkness.

She kept her head down as drone bots passed by, watching her every move. Watching everyone’s move.

She nodded to every one that passed, praising the empire.

When she arrived at a dead end where her family’s pod was, there was almost no moonlight and she had to strap on her headlight. She switched it on, and a beam of milky light illuminated the darkness. The walls crawled with moles and they scurried away, tunneling into the earth to get away from her.

Clods of dirt fell to the ground like quiet rain.

And then she saw them.

Sleek, white motorcycles parked outside her home pod. Three of them, along with a box transport drone.

Her heart stopped.

She walked slowly past the motorcycles, whose neon stripes glowed in the darkness. The box drone hovered and hummed. Its back doors were open, and it was empty.

How many times had she stared in the back of these drones, seeing other children transported into them? How many times had she winced when the doors slammed shut of their own accord?

She didn’t want to walk further. She didn’t want to go home.

She wanted to run.

But she heard the buzzing of a drone behind her. A circular metal eye hovered in the air several yards away. It stopped and watched her.

She gulped and took a step further.

Loyalty forced her ahead, made her pick up her feet toward her home pod.

The front door slid open and a stone-faced man stood in the doorway.

“Get in,” the man said.

Her hive father.

She quickened her pace.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he said. “It’s not what you think.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Her hive father took her backpack and ushered her into the warm fullness of the pod.

Inside, in the living room, her hive mother sat on a couch with her hands in her lap. Her long, graying hair was tied behind her back, and her eyes were hard, stone hard. So many hive children had been taken from her. This would have been no different.

She’d known her hive parents for most of her life. They were constants in her life, even though she was taken from her biological parents when she was born. They were not cruel to her like some hive parents, but they were not kind, either.

Three soldiers stepped out of the kitchen with porcelain mugs in their hands. They drank from the mugs, laughing and smiling. They wore white armor with webs of neon green lines running through the arms and legs. Orange visors shaded their eyes. When they saw her, their smiles faded and they saluted.

“Glory to the emperor,” she said, bowing.

“Glory,” the three men said.

“Madam hive mother, we thank you for your hospitality,” the lead soldier said. He was the largest of the three, suited up and built for war. He handed her his steaming mug of coffee.

“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to the couch.

Ren made her way slowly to the couch, sitting down with her hive mother, not taking her eyes off the men and the handcoils that hung from their waists.

“Are you going to tell us what this is about if it’s not what we think it is?” her hive mother asked.

“We can now lift our embargo,” the lead soldier said. “It was not our intent to cause you anxiety. My name is Dyne.”

Silence.

“Kid, have you been loyal to the empire?” the soldier asked.

She nodded.

“Have you been diligent in your studies?”

She nodded again.

“The records confirm it,” Dyne said. “You will be graduating from the top of your class this year. Your scores in Spaceship Calc and Creative Writing impressed the hive teachers. Your teachers and principal were considering advancing you to the senior grade next year. From my estimation, you were on track to proceed to an aristocratic rank.”

Her hive mother gasped. “That’s fantastic. A rare honor.”

“Very rare,” Dyne said.

Ren shook her head. “You said were.”

“Is she going to be a sacrifice?” her hive father asked.

“We cannot sacrifice one as intelligent as her,” Dyne said. He stepped forward. “We hate to do this, but we must cut your education short.”

Her eyes widened.

“Why?” her hive father asked. “What must she do?”

“The emperor is dead,” the soldier said.

The words hit her hive parents hard. Her hive mother put her hands to her mouth.

“No…”

“He was devoured,” Dyne said. “And our empire is now under attack. We will fight back, and we will win.”

He knelt and bowed his head.

“We must now select the new emperor,” he said. “The lottery has chosen you, kid.”

Her hive father stood.

Her hive mother stood.

Ren stood and backed away toward the door.

“No. No. No—”

“You must now serve our empire,” Dyne said.

“I’m just a girl. I’m fourteen years old. I’m not—”

“The glory is now yours,” the soldier said, standing.

She shook her head. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t hear anymore. She couldn’t stand. She wanted to run. Her legs were weak.

She put her hand on the door and pushed—

Fffp!

Something stuck on the shoulder.

Her hands traced up her shoulder and wrapped around a golden syringe.

She screamed.

“We’re sorry,” Dyne said. “The process must begin now.”

She stumbled back, fell out of the door and into the dirt outside.

As she looked up, the soldiers crowded around her.

The last thing she saw before blacking out was her hive mother and hive father standing in the living room, arms around each other, singing praise to the empire.