There Once Were Stars (2 page)

Another light flashes, but this time it’s in the distance, on the other side of the glass. I lean forward, focusing on the light, and see a shadow move on the other side. My entire body goes rigid, and my heart beat thunders in my ears. No one could be out there—unless—could it be an Infected? No, that’s impossible. They were all killed by the Cleansing War—everything was. If the nukes didn’t kill them, the nuclear fallout afterward would have.

Something moves again—closer this time. A gasp escapes my lips, as a shudder rips through my body. That’s when I see it—the faint outline of a person standing in the open. He’s camouflaged by a layer of dust, blending him into the barren landscape that surrounds the dome. The figure’s shadow stretches across the ground, reaching toward me.

I rub my eyes, as if something in them could be making me see the figure, but when I open them I’m startled to see the figure again, only now there are two. One stays farther back, toward the rockier land, silhouetted against the foothills in the distance. The other stands a short distance from the dome. My heart skips a beat—they’re both human, and they’re both staring in my direction.

I creep toward the glass, slowly forcing my feet to move, not wanting to draw attention. But as I try to control each inhale and exhale, my entire body vibrates in rhythm with the electricity of my adrenaline. This can’t be happening. I must be still asleep.

The man closest to me looks up in the direction of the peak of the dome, and my tension eases. They haven’t spotted me. I take this moment to check him out; his clothes are covered in the filth of the dust outside and a hood hides his hair. His face is disguised by goggles above a bandana that hides the rest. Everything about them blends into the surrounding wasteland.

They can’t be infected.
They’re much too interested in our dome. At the Learning Institute we were taught about the virus that destroyed most of mankind. People who weren’t immune, changed—marked by the telltale scarring of the infection on their skin—a blackened spidery rash. The virus attacked the nervous system, making those infected jerk involuntarily. But the worst of it all was how they viciously attacked anything that moved.

I know it’s foolish to think something outside could be an Infected; there hasn’t been a sighting since my great grandmother’s generation. But I’ve never seen anyone on the other side of the dome, because of the dangerous radiation left from the Cleansing Wars. I can’t tear my eyes away from these mysterious Outsiders who defy all the teachings I have known my entire life. How can they survive the same radiation that killed my parents almost a decade ago?

The hood blows off of the figure in the distance, revealing messy, dark hair on a boy close to my age. He doesn’t rush to lift his hood back up. Instead, he removes his goggles, and then does the unthinkable … he takes off his left glove and points a finger right at me.

I gasp out loud as his partner turns toward me. There’s no way they can see me; a foot of shock-proof glass, spotted in dust, stands between us. I’m on the inside, under the broad cover of the dome, protected behind the tinted façade, while they stand on the outside, open to the harsh world that was destroyed long before my time. But still, against all odds, our eyes connect. A smile breaks at the side of the man’s mouth as another gasp escapes my lips. My hands jump to my mouth to hold my screams inside.
They see me.

He steps toward me, removing his hood and goggles as he approaches the dome wall. His eyes are dark. I expected them to be entirely white, from a combination of sun blindness and radiation. When I was little, I saw an expedition scientist come back like that, skin raw and blistered; her white eyes staring into the nothingness of death. She died soon after, but the memory of those eyes was burned into my brain.

From the other side of the glass, he stares me down as he gets closer. Fear ripples through my body; I am exposed and defenseless. He is firm and unyielding with a determination unlike anything inside these walls. I force a swallow, unable to make myself run or move away.

As he walks, he kicks up the sandy dirt with every step, creating tiny clouds of dust around his boots, and footprints behind him along the undisturbed terrain. When he reaches the edge of the dome, he lifts his hand and places it on the glass in front of me. As if it has a mind of its own, my hand leaves my mouth and reaches out toward him, revealing my fear in its tremors. Our palms touch on opposite sides of the smooth glass, and I brace against it, feeling its security as I stare at the Outsider. His skin is weathered from the elements and to my surprise, nothing protects him; he is fully exposed; I am the one safe on the other side. I finally exhale; there’s something familiar about him. Something that makes me feel safe.

Suddenly, he looks sharply to his right, then lets go of the glass and runs. His abruptness wakes me from my stupor, and I instantly duck into the bushes at my feet, where the ends of the branches scratch my arms. There’s no way I’m dreaming. Through the branches I see Order members in pursuit. Only, they haven’t seen the person who was standing next to the dome. They are in pursuit of the other, the partner, the one who stayed back. It’s not too late for him to run, but he hangs back, as his friend escapes.

The partner holds his hands high in the air as the Order surrounds him. For a moment I can’t see what’s happening as the six armed guards block my view; I’ve lost the connection. My head floods with questions. Where will they take him? Why is he here? But none are so big as—how is he alive? The group breaks apart, carrying the stranger in the center, hands behind his back as he’s dragged to the main entrance of the dome.

One of the Order points in my direction. My heart skips a beat, and an ache shoots through my chest.
Can they see me?
I cower as low as I can in the bushes, pressing my body against the coarse litter of decayed leaves that cover the ground. The member walks over to the dome, running a finger along the outside before peering through the glass. I hold my breath, so as not to move in the slightest. After a moment, they walk away.

I wait until the group rounds the corner of the dome, out of my sight, before daring to stand up. I brush myself free from debris and turn toward the trees to escape. It won’t be safe for me to come back here for a long time, but there’s no time to say goodbye as I dodge through the Outer Forest, making my way to the streets of the city, near the entrance of the dome.

I have an overwhelming need to see what will happen to the Outsider. I know it’s human nature to be nosy, but have a deeper need to know what happens to him; ultimately I need to know if he was real. For some reason, seeing him inside the dome walls will be proof he exists.

A crowd has already formed around the entrance doors, most likely drawn when the Order rushed outside. It’s common to see Order members go outside, on daily excursions to monitor the perimeter. You never know when an infected could show up. At least that’s what we’ve always been told. That, and without protective suits, no one can survive on the outside.

“Nat,” a familiar voice yells.

It’s Grandmother.

“I thought you were spending this morning with your friends.” She states more than asks. Then her voice drops to a whisper, “Did I see you come out of the Outer Forest?”

“I know,” I stammer, caught red-handed. I must not have been as careful as I thought. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re an adult now,” she warns, her eyes narrowing. “Try acting like one. Someone else could have seen you.”

Someone else did, Grandmother
, I want to say. If I told her who, she’d never believe me. She’d call me foolish and silly. Or worse, she’d believe me and report me herself so I would get sent back to the Learning Institute. Not the part the practical education side, either. The other side, from where sometimes screams could be heard while we sat in classes. No—there are things I may want to say to her, but it’s time I learned to choose my words carefully.
The irony is, she’d be proud of this adult decision.

The lights above the entrance doors to the dome began to blink. Those at the front of the crowd push back in an attempt to avoid any exposure to the outside air. Everyone knows what we’ve been taught. The outside is dangerous.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Grandmother says, moving with the crowd as they push past us.

I stretch up on my toes, trying to see. Order members enter the dome to the decontamination area. Each member removes his or her helmet as they stand between the two entrances, one to the outside, and one to the dome. Scans run across their bodies, looking for any indication of radiation. Their shiny, white uniforms reflect the red beams. Suddenly the green lights turn on, and the doors to the inside of the dome slide open. How could he be from the outside and not be contaminated?

The racket of the crowd hushes as the Outsider steps inside. He looks around, smiling at everyone, nodding and saying hello, but no one answers. I push ahead of the others to get a better look, but no one budges, so I give up and push through the back of the crowd, while eager residents move forward. I escape the crowd and run down the street, trying to find a place I can push through to get a closer look. Others see me and catch on; soon I’m running ahead of a new crowd.

We follow the Order past the Apartment District, through the main shopping areas, all the way to the Axis where the crowds have grown as thick as they were at the entrance. Here, the Director and the Delegates keep office as the elected heads of state for this dome and its people—the city of Dome 1618.

As the Outsider disappears into the Axis, people break out into many different discussions. I choose not to participate; I’m more interested in listening to what everyone has to say. Mom always told me, you can get more truths from observing than simply drawing conclusions.

“He must be part of the rebels.” I recognize Missus Sharp from the bakery near our apartment talking with a small group of her aged counterparts. “They sneak out, you know. Through some secret passage under the Axis.”

“Shush, Muriel.” Missus Marx, from the clothing shop across the street, whispers. “You can’t keep the peace with talks like that. Everyone will think you’re crazy, and before you know it, someone will have to put posters of your face around town.”

“No one can go outside the domes,” Grandmother speaks up. “They’d be killed by radiation.”

The ladies are silent. They know not to challenge Grandmother, who lost both sons to the outside radiation. I, however, do not have the full respect and tact that they do, and forget my recent decision to watch my words.

“Then how did he survive on the outside?” I ask.

Both Missus Sharp and Missus Marx drop their jaws at the same time, but lean in close to hear Grandmother’s response.

“He obviously has on protective gear of some sort,” she says, flaring her nostrils as she narrows her eyes in my direction. “This is probably a test run; why else would they allow so many innocent people to be exposed?”

“Perhaps they are going to open the Expedition program again,” Missus Sharp says, her eyes lighting up.

“That’s enough,” Grandmother hisses. “Talk like that will get you reported as a rebel.”

Grandmother’s words are more threatening than they are warning. Poor Missus Sharp’s cheeks flush until her ears turn red, before she scurries off after Missus Marx who has already disappeared into the crowd.

I look up at an electronic banner hanging on the side of the Axis. It shows a smiling picture of the Director sitting at a table with the Delegates. Below them, written on the table are the words:
Peace. Love. Order. Dome.
The ridiculous propaganda popped up after our current Director was elected ten years ago, and to my mother’s surprise, it performed as it was intended to. The telescreens spread the word and soon people repeated it everywhere in the dome and my mother would grumble about it in the privacy of our apartment.

The dome was never meant to be a permanent residence for its inhabitants. Mom said that was why long ago a Director created a science team for expeditions to test soil and find viable living alternatives outside the dome. Both my parents were selected as expedition scientists, the most sought after position in the Axis. It was truly an honor for them. But sometimes reaching for the best comes with a price. It was radiation outside that killed my parents while they were out on expedition. That same radiation keeps us locked up to this day.

The giant clock on the front of the Axis reads three o’clock.
Oh, no!
My shift starts in thirty minutes, and I still need to change, get signed in, and report to my station. I run home and root through my dresser, trying to find the maintenance worker garb I was given my last day at the Learning Institute. Finally, the beige button-up shirt and black pants appear, right where I left them, pressed and ready.

As I change, I realize something is missing and I feel my chest.
My locket!
My head spins, as my skin tingles, and a cold sweat breaks across my brow. In all the excitement this morning I must have dropped it. But if someone finds it there, I would have no way to deny I broke the rules. Grandmother would be furious, and I would receive a warning, if I’m lucky.

There’s no time for me to go back for it; I can’t be late for work. Three lates lead to a warning. I’ll have to slip out tonight to find it. Even if Grandmother forbids me to return to the clearing, when I tell her about the locket she’ll have to let me. She knows the ramifications of my actions as well as I do.

I make it back to the Axis in time to start my first job. As I pass through the front doors I can’t help but think of the Outsider again. Where did they take him and will I ever see him again?

The inside of the Axis is crisp, with sleek lines and a simple layout, lacking the wear and tear of the buildings outside. Its cold resemblance to the Learning Institute gives me pause, except here telescreens line the walls from floor to ceiling, displaying the spinning logo of the Director’s motto: Three horizontal lines on top of one another, surrounded by an oval. Peace. Love. Order. Dome.