People I know And People I Don't

Loretta is a secluded child. Her brother was always the one outside, always the one coming home with bruises that she'd have to nurse. But Loretta had heard this conversation once from her parents. One that she wouldn't tell Somen about. It went something along the lines of,

"I'm running away." Her dad, no, Nelson, said.

"Tell me a new joke, that one is getting boring." Mary shot back.

Loretta saw Nelson pack his bags. She wished he wouldn't come back if his plan ever worked. 

"I'm serious Mary, I ain't staying in this dumpster no more. I'm leaving all of you behind."

She laughed at him, "Ha! You're dying here with us, with these two children we should have aborted." 

"I ain't putting up with you anymore." Nelson zipped his last bag and straddled his straps on his left shoulder.

"You're gonna get found, even if you make it out."

Nelson stopped at the doorstep. He fumed, "Shut up wench! I ain't letting you tell me off again."

She sighed and furrowed her brows, "The Gardeners will pick you up. I'll see you in a week."

He came back with his entire body coated in injuries. He curled up in a ball for two days, repeating, "No more. No more."

****************

Somen crouched to meet Loretta's eyes. He hushed, "Hide."

Loretta looked back at him with a face that had already told him that she knew. She scrambled off to hide in a closet while Somen ripped a bar from the window.

"Open the door!" The Gardeners shouted.

"I'm getting there!" Retaliated the clerk.

Somen sneaked to hear their conversation.

The clerk told the Gardeners off, "I didn't hire a cleaning lady, much less you guys." Somen looked at the metal baton by their waist, the gas mask to hide their identity, and the army of men behind the man at the forefront. 

"It's just a daily check-up." The Gardener responded, "You don't need to be scared. We're just looking for anything that may be scurrying around that you can't see. Roaches, worms, you know. The food quality has dropped so we're here to do something about it."

Yeah right. Somen laughed to himself, As if you guys cared about anything other than yourselves.

The clerk dug their heel and asked, "You guys got a warrant to search?"

"The pope requested it--"

"So no warrant?"

The Gardener hesitated, "No warrant."

"If you don't get outta here, then it'll be an infringement on personal territory. You wouldn't want the Monarch to hear about this, would you?"

The Gardener flinched, "Sorry for intruding then. We will come back with a warrant." 

The door creaked and closed, chiik!

The clerk walked back to our room and met Somen's eyes: heavy with terror, but most of all, resolved to fight. The hand he used to grip the pipe was shaking, but he clung to it like his life depended on it.

The clerk takes off their mask and shakes off their robe, revealing a tall woman dressed modestly with white garbs that covered her to the wrist and ankle. Then they took off the white garb just as quickly to reveal cargo pants and a long-sleeve that reached to their hands.

Somen's mouth was wide open with surprise and he faltered, "Miss Shay?"

She hushed him and asked, "Where's your sister?"

Somen mouthed, "Closet."

She opened the closet and found Loretta hiding away, tucking her legs in with her arms.

She whispered, "We need to get out of here." and dragged both of us out the backdoor and went to an alley in the outskirts.

"Where are you taking us?" Somen asked as she tugged him further. 

"You'll see."

They arrive at an alley with a mural with the face of the Monarch. Those long golden locks that stray far from his own head gave him the idea of true regality, like someone who had been taken care of and has grown to be someone respectable and dependable. Shay presses the bricks of the wall and it starts to open up, revealing a staircase lit by dangling lightbulbs.

Somen swiped the walls, "What's this?"

Shay proceeds to walk down the stairs, "The staircase to the base."

Loretta interjected, "The base?"

"Come, we'll talk once we're in."

The siblings shared a look and having faith in Somen's abilities, they nodded and went down.

The end of the stairs showed them something they thought would have never happened. A base for the ones who had escaped the slums. The floor was made of hardened concrete, the walls were made smoother. There in the corner hiding away on the playground were children. Happy children. Their faces half covered by the metal rebar, their buttocks thoroughly dusted by the powder of cement, and their smiles enhanced by the glow of lightbulbs. It was by no means the perfect life, but compared to living where they used to, this was the difference between night and day. 

There were tents set up on the side, a dry and dead campfire being shoveled coal to prepare for the winter time, there was food. Clean, edible food, being served by three workers. They were serving stew. Stew. When you're robbed of the thought of eating foods other than what you'd find in the trash and what you could scour for, the simple word of stew could linger in your mouth for days.

Somen had been offered steak by The Handler. It tasted delicious. Would this stew hold up the same?

"So? How do you like it?" Shay asked, her gaze lingering on the sparkle of light burning in Somen and Loretta's eyes.

"Come, the leader should have a few words to say." Shay says and brings them to a large tent situated in the middle end of the base. She unzips the tent and walks inside, giving a polite greeting and inviting the siblings inside.

He looks away from his papers and addresses the siblings, "It's rare we have people like you two. Bless the gods."

Somen is confused. He asks, "People like us?"

He points towards Shay, "Those who have escaped purgatory. Just like Shay over here." and then he holds his breath, as if having realized something, "Where are my manners? I am the camp leader for the refugees, Stephen Burmis."

Shay looks at Somen and has this look on her face that says she's had many words to say, but what ultimately escapes were an apology.

"I'm sorry I couldn't pay you for the firewood, Somen."

He pauses. A genuine apology. 

"It's fine miss Shay, good to see you doing well."

Stephen coughed and quizzed, "I heard from Shay that your sister is good at tinkering. Is this true?" 

Somen puffs and in the most confident voice he could make, he says, "The best you'll find." 

"Hm.." Stephen looks at them, his eyes heavy with concentration, and without a word, their profiles emerge from their chests.

[Somen Elkin, Level 2, Human, Title: The Time Thief]

[Loretta Elkin, level 34, Human, Titles: The Great Inventor, Reader Of Babel] 

"Impressive. For both of you to be owner of a profile. And of titles too."

Somen's eyes squint and he takes a step back, shoving an arm to keep his sister behind him.

Stephen senses their fear and spoke lowly, "Don't be scared. I won't force you into anything. Seeing as you don't know, do you know what that profile entails?"

Somen cautiously shakes his head.

Stephen goes on, "It means that you've been chosen. Your identities are to seep into the earth, forever known, as long as you do it right."

Somen queried, "So what?"

"It means you have been blessed with strength to walk the earth with your head held high. It is said that the Monarch has reached the hundredth level, and has had his name embedded into the soil. Which means that no matter where you go, no matter what time you are in, his name will echo."

Stephen stands up from his chair and walks outside the tent. His back is turned against them, the greatest display of trust he could give them. They could tear his clothes, scratch his thigh, stab him in the back, and he wouldn't even see it. But it also would mean they would become a traitor.

"You two are given the chance to make this world better. For us, for the people you've known, and most importantly, for yourselves." Started Stephen. He goes on, "I can teach you how to use that. In return, you just need to help us. We will provide you shelter, clothes, food."

Somen felt bugs crawling in his skin. He swallowed and asked, "And what do you need us to do?"

"Prepare."

"For what?"

"A rebellion."