There Once Were Stars (3 page)

This is the only place in the dome where technology is allowed and used, aside from the screens on the streets. There are other government buildings like the Learning Institute and the Hall of Records that have access to computers, but they’re used sparingly. In the Axis, technology is in abundance. It’s the central nervous system that keeps the dome operational.

The one thing missing is the presence of blue-collar workers; they’re apparent in every other area of the dome, since they reside in the apartment districts, shop in the business districts, and even work behind the Axis in the agricultural district. Inside the Axis, even the secretary at the front desk is refined, with her clean, pressed suit and perfectly placed hair. I suddenly feel self-conscious in my maintenance uniform. Where are the other cleaners?

“Name,” she commands, as I approach her desk.

“Natalia Greyes.” My voice echoes off the walls.

“Smile for the camera.”

Before I can react, a flash blinds my eyes, leaving spots where the secretary once stood. I blink until she comes back into view.

“Approved,” the secretary says, pushing a button. A small ID card with my name and picture spits out of a slot facing me on the backside of her desk. “Take the elevator to Basement Level 1. The head of Maintenance is expecting you.”

I stand in front of the elevators, watching my hand shake as I press the down button. I’ve seen pictures of elevators on computers, but have never actually ridden in one.
Ding
. The doors slide apart, and I walk into the rectangular box, where a long line of numbers light up along the opposite wall: 100 all the way down to B2. If the lobby is that spectacular, what did the higher floors look like? I reluctantly press B1.

B1 is lit by long fluorescent lights beaming from the ceiling, shining on the long narrow hall that leads me to the head of Maintenance—a short, curly-haired, round woman. She must be close to seventy, which means she’s nearing the end of her time of being beneficial to the dome. On her seventieth birthday she will say goodbye to the dome, and participate in the Last Banquet, a monthly event where the Director invites those at the end of their time to a ceremony to celebrate their life. Jak, my friend with a passion for politics, has preached on the importance as to why this ceremony was created in the last decade along with other population controls, like reproduction limits, to help sustain the life of those in the dome.

“Okay.” The woman offers a warm smile that makes me feel comfortable right away. “I am Mrs. Watson. And you are … ” she pauses as I hand over my ID card. “
Natalia Greyes
?” I nod in agreement. “Like the scientists
Greyes
?” Her eyes bulge. I’ve seen that look before.

“Yes,” I murmur. Everyone knows who my parents were; their project was imperative to our survival. Had they succeeded, there would have been no laws on life expectancy or reproduction and people would be living free, outside.

“A shame about what happened,” Mrs. Watson says, shaking her head. I can’t do anything but nod. “Anyway, our job here is not complicated, but it is timed. Keep on top of things, and you’ll be fine. I am giving you floors two, three, and four.”

“The Director’s office?” I ask, surprised. In all the one hundred upper floors of the Axis, every kid learns the Director’s office is located on the second floor. Who wouldn’t want to know where the most powerful person in the dome worked?

“No, not the Director’s office,” she says, her face hardening. “I handle that personally. But the Delegate’s offices and other rooms on those floors are fine to enter.”

I take my assigned cart and ride the elevator up to Floor 4, where I meet up with three other workers. They’re focused on the monotonous work of polishing, washing, and sweeping; there’s no time for chitchat. One of the workers points to the office across from her, so I park my cart in front of the door labelled Minister of Agriculture, and mimic her actions, wiping the glass on the wall. It is tedious work.

“No, no.” A dark-haired woman on my team
tsks
at me as she looks over my shoulder. “You need to polish in a circular motion.” She grabs the rag from my hand and starts to vigorously wipe the glass. I watch her intently, the others not fazed by the interruption.

“I’m sorry,” I say as she hands the rag back to me.

She doesn’t reply. This job wasn’t my first pick. It’s going to be a long two weeks until my next assignment.

My coworker continuously corrects my work, hovering over my shoulder like Grandmother would. Every sharp-tongued direction makes me wince, but I keep my mouth shut as we move down to Floor 3, which is a large boardroom. By the time we finish there, she nods in approval, labelling me the window washer, and finally returns to her own cart.

Floor 2 is similar to Floor 4, in that the hallways are lined with offices. I make my way toward the end of the hall, focusing on office door windows. As I reach the end of the corridor, I pause in front of the one door I’m not allowed to enter.
Director
is etched in gold across its glass. No one told me not to clean the outside of the office.

I spray the glass and reach up to polish it with my cloth, but as I press against the window, the door opens. I freeze.
Did I do that?
No, the last person to use it must have been careless. I reach out to click the door shut, but voices come from the office, and a chill sends goosebumps down my arms when I hear the words “—clearing in the Outer Forest.”

“We need to send a Horticultural team in tonight, sir,” a man’s voice comes through the opening. “My team reports that the Outsider was looking at something in the dome. Apparently, there’s a clearing there.”

“What do we care about a clearing, Samson?” the Director’s voice demands. I recognize it from the announcements that come across the monitors throughout each day.

“Well, for one,” the man whom the Director called Samson speaks up again, “in the clearing there is an old rotting tree.” The Director grunts in disapproval and Samson’s voice speeds up. “It was obviously overlooked during cleanup because it is at the outermost ring and faces the exterior of the dome.”

“I don’t like excuses, Samson,” the Director grumbles. “We need all the space we have for healthy trees, to ensure oxygen levels stay premium. An oversight by Horticultural is a detriment to all. What else is there?”

“There’s evidence someone has been in the clearing, sir.”

My heart slams against my ribs, and a searing pain rips across my chest. Grandmother’s warnings flash through my head like a flashback on fast forward.

“Someone was in the Outer Forest? Betker, your department’s job is to uphold the law. Are you telling me someone has been sneaking around the Outer Forest and you had no idea?”

Another voice speaks up, dry with an edge of irritation. “Apparently so, sir,” Betker replies.

“Does the Outsider know this person?” the Director asks.

“He is not talking yet,” Betker says, regaining confidence in his voice. “But my men have their ways. We’ll get information out of him.”

“I don’t like it. Someone hiding in the Outer Forest, and then a stranger found on the outside. It smells awfully like conspiracy to me. Why else would an Outsider risk coming so close to the dome? It’s those damn rebels, I know it!”

“He had nothing on him to identify where he came from, sir,” Betker says.

“He is secured, correct?”

“Yes,” Betker says. “Locked up tight on B2.”

“Below the generator!” the Director cries out.

“It’s not a concern, sir. He only carried a few personal things on him: a photo, a key, and some food. We, of course, confiscated the food.”

“I decide what’s of concern around here.” I jump as a fist bangs on the desk inside. “I want him moved. Get him off B2 and up to the higher floors where he can be monitored better. Let’s find out what he’s up to and who his contacts are.”

“Yes, sir, right away.”

“I want this situation rectified,” the Director demands. “And find me the person who was in the Outer Forest.”

I grab my bucket and move to another window. A tall man with red hair exits the Director’s office, pausing when he notices the door was not closed. I keep my focus on the glass in front of me and hold my breath until he proceeds past me, making his way down the hallway to the elevator.

The Director and the other gentleman never appear, and soon my group finishes Floor 2. I can’t wait to get out of this building and back to the clearing. I have to beat the Order and destroy any evidence of my being there.

When we get to B1, the carts are parked and the others hustle out of the office as quickly as they can. I hold back to ask Mrs. Watson one question that is eating at me.

“What else is down here?” I recall Samson mentioning the Outsider was on B2.

“What do you mean?”

“In the elevator I saw buttons for B1, and B2,” I explain. “I never thought about what was underneath the Axis before. I’m curious. They didn’t teach us about that at the Learning Institute.”

“No,” Mrs. Watson agrees. “It definitely would not be discussed there. You see, sometimes we pretend terrible things don’t exist. ”

My eyes widen at her vague reference. She notices and corrects herself. “Ah, don’t mind me, Natalia. I’m an old woman spouting off random thoughts. You, too, may be the same way when you are nearing the end of your usefulness in the dome. What was it you asked? Oh yes, under the Axis. Well, on B1 is us of course. The other side of this hallway is the generator. It’s what keeps the Axis powered. Without that, everything shuts down, the computers, the banners, even the air purification system.”

“And what about B2?” I ask.

“I’m not aware of a B2,” she states uncomfortably.

I laugh a little. “There’s a button for it in the elevator.”

“Of course there is, but listen to me, Natalia,” she says in a hushed voice. “You do not want to know about B2. You do not want to visit B2. And you certainly do not ever talk about B2. Understand me? Unspeakable sounds come from down there, horrible things that would haunt your innocent, young, dreams. Just forget about it and pretend it doesn’t exist.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, moving toward the door. Panic swells in my chest, sending a painful shudder across my skin.

“Good night, Natalia,” she calls out after me.

I wait for the elevator, the fluorescent lights flickering above my head like the stars outside.
What on earth could be happening on B2?

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I gasp—the Outsider is standing in the middle of a small group of Order members. His right eye can barely open and is turning a terrible shade of purple, and his body is slumped forward, held up by the Order on either side of him. Our eyes connect and for a moment I see something mischievous spark inside them. A smile plays at the edge of his mouth, making my stomach twist in discomfort.
Does he recognize me from the clearing?

“You have to wait for this one to come back down Miss … ” an Order member peers down at my ID card, “ … Greyes.” She lifts an eyebrow, as she speaks my last name.

“Okay,” I say quietly stepping back from the doors.

“Don’t make her wait for me,” the Outsider speaks up. “By all means, where are your manners. Shouldn’t it be
ladies first
?” He winks at me. “I don’t know what passes for etiquette in this dome. It’s not as if I’m going anywhere.”

The group looks uncomfortable. Someone coughs and another clears his throat.

“We are going up quite a ways, sir,” one of the younger Members speaks up from the rear of the elevator. “She looks like she’s going home. Only has one floor to go.”

“Well, she can’t ride with him in here,” the Member in the front dictates. He looks back at me, obviously irritated by my unintended interruption.

“Fine. Everyone off.”

“And they say chivalry is dead,” the Outsider says, winking at me again as he passes by. “Make sure to send it back down for us,” he says, leaning toward me. “And don’t forget to watch your step, Miss … Greyes, was it?”

I tear my eyes away from him, my heart racing in my chest as my name rolls off his tongue. I duck into the elevator, still able to smell the earthy odor of the outside on his skin. As I step inside, I see something crumpled up on the floor and cover it with my foot. I slowly turn and press the lobby button on the elevator. As the doors close, his gaze locks with mine again, making a tingle run down my arms into my fingers. I look down at my shoe and move my foot to the side. The crumpled piece of paper stares back at me, but it’s not really a piece of paper, it’s a photo. I lean over and pick it up as the doors ding and open up.

I stuff the photo in my pocket, hurrying off the elevator and out of the Axis. The secretary barely looks up as I rush past.
What a crazy day!
And I still have to get to the clearing before the Order gets there.

The perimeter of the fence is heavily monitored by Order members. I anxiously time their patrols and watch for an opening at my usual entrance. There, one streetlight’s beam ends for a couple feet before the next one begins, allowing me the darkness I need to slip through and enter the forest unseen.

Trees are the perfect cover when an entire city is built to look down. Their leaves have always stretched out like a canopy, hiding me as I ran through them below. But tonight their trunks are just as useful, allowing me to stay hidden as I maneuver around Order members who are strategically placed while the Horticulturalists carry out their assignment.

The moonlight pierces through the trees, brightening as I approach the edge of the dome. My clearing is up ahead, but I can also hear voices. I’m too late.

“I can’t believe we got called out for one tree,” a man grumbles.

“Had someone been more thorough the first time around,” a woman responds, “then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Sounds like we’re out here because the Director flipped out over nothing, as usual.”

“It’s that Outsider, not this tree that has him on edge.”

The buzzing of a saw cuts off the voice then stops.

“It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” the man speaks up.