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As Maliek, Jana, and Fejan left the park, they passed a long line of Bazij waiting to enter a building above which ‘Subaqueous’ flashed in neon lights.
“Looks popular,” Maliek said, gesturing at the crowd.
“It is,” Fejan agreed. “An underwater sim with extinct monsters from Melathia’s prehistoric past, and a few from our myths.”
“So, what? You swim with them?” Maliek asked, intrigued by the possibility. Or he would if he weren’t searching for an escape from unjust imprisonment.
Fejan laughed, her green horns pulsing in rhythm. “Yeah, if you want your avatar eaten.”
“Particpants pilot small ships,” Jana explained.
“Some thrill seekers do hunt vicious creatures, though,” Fejan said. “Either for fun or competitively.”
Maliek frowned. “Where’s the fun in that? They’re not hunting real predators.”
“You know how amazing our sims are,” Fejan replied, sounding a little defensive. “We have complicated formulas that calculate the strength and speed of those creatures. It takes a lot of skill to hunt them.”
“I suppose,” Maliek said. “Though hunters in sims are at no risk. At worst, if someone fails while hunting, their avatar gets destroyed.”
Fejan shook her head. “No, no, no. If you die hunting, not only do you not get a kill for the creature, you lose a previous kill from your record. If you’ve no previous kills for that creature, you’re banned from hunting one for the next six weeks.”
“Still not the same as dying,” Maliek mumbled.
Fejan exhaled, and her horns pulsed quickly, a sign of irritation. “I’d also argue hunting fake creatures in a sim is less brutal than doing so in real life.”
He wondered if Fejan hunted. Deciding a change in subject might be best, he pointed out a building surrounded by a bottomless pit. A rickety wooden bridge spanned the chasm from the road to the entrance. A larger crowd than the one outside Subaqueous stood in line.
“What about that one?”
“Cliff jumping.” Jana’s eyes brightened as he regarded the entrance. “A world filled with endless canyons.”
“Okay, what’s special about that? And why the difficult entrance?”
For an answer, Fejan held out her hand, curled into a fist. “Watch this.”
Maliek placed his hand on top of hers and his vision shifted. He stood on a vast, wobbly bridge. Ahead, he could scarcely make out the end of the bridge as it connected to a canyon wall. Wind whipped around him, jostling the bridge. He reached for the rope, but his hand didn’t move.
His eyes swung around, disorienting him. Not his eyes. He observed through Fejan’s eyes. The process was called self-porting, a recording of her past.
Their eyes rested on the other end of the bridge behind them, attached to the other end of the canyon wall. He estimated they stood in the middle. Then their eyes dropped, studying clouds below.
The wind ruffled their clothes, chilling the skin, making it tighten like a flexed muscle.
“Fun, huh?” Fejan asked.
“Fun... or crazy.” He wanted to let go and end the self-porting, but didn’t want her to know the scene disconcerted him—not from a fear of heights, but because of the lack of control. To his senses he was there, but he had no ability to move.
“Where does the cliff jumping come in?” he asked, half-afraid he’d regret it.
Their vision changed. They now stood on a canyon floor, the walls stretching up one hundred meters into the air.
“Ready?” Fejan asked.
“For?” He tensed, but that had no effect on the body.
They backed up to one wall, before running forward. After building up speed, they leapt, and rocketed into the sky.
“What the—”
“There are special gravity rules here,” Fejan explained.
They flew up and out of the canyon to soar over red-clay plains. Other canyons filled the landscape in all directions, as if the entire continent had dried out and cracked.
They reached the peak of their jump and descended.
Oh crap. Oh crap. Knowing this was a recording didn’t stop his stomach from climbing into his chest. Or theirs? He couldn’t tell if it was from the self-porting or his own personal response to it. Both?
They plummeted, arcing into another canyon. Way too fast, the ground rushed up at them. Unable to hang in any longer, Maliek let go of Fejan’s hand.
He stood with her and Jana once more, on the city street outside the Cliff Jumping entrance.
“You didn’t want to finish the jump?” Fejan asked, bouncing on her feet as if she wanted to do it again.
Heart hammering, Maliek tried to swallow his stomach back into place.
“If our plans don’t work out, you should visit it with us.” Jana clapped him on the shoulders. “There are a ton of cool jumps to do there.”
Maliek had no intention of ever visiting.
“Do all the buildings lead to sims?” Visiting them might be fun under normal circumstances, but he wasn’t sure any of them would help him escape.
“Most.” Fejan spread both arms wide as she began walking. “Trendium is a central hub for all the sim worlds in the closed system.”
Like Miran-silya on a grander scale, he thought as he and Jana followed her.
“None connect to sims in the open system?” he asked.
“This sim is only connected to the old world,” she said.
“How did Bazij sympathizers discover your government kidnapped people and imprisoned them here?”
“This is our original sim system,” Fejan explained. “For when we first rooted our bodies in the covums.”
“Why did you leave?”
“As great as this system is, we grew tired of being isolated from the rest of the universe. We longed for contact with others.
“A new, more powerful open sims system was built, one designed to handle the trillions of individuals that log-on every day. The creators designed new safeguards that allowed outside access without compromising our security.”
The smell of fried food caught Maliek’s attention as a female Bazij passed carrying something large, round, and breaded. She ate gingerly from the food, as if it were hot.
“If everyone moved to the new sim, why is this one still around?” Maliek asked.
“The government saw no reason to dismantle it, so they kept it as a backup. But eventually they decided that lawbreakers, and those who could no longer be trusted in regular society, would be sent here. We don’t banish them to the old world. That’s considered too cruel.”
“Okay, so how did you discover your government started capturing innocents and imprisoning us in the system?”
Fejan shifted and her expression seemed uncomfortable. “Some within the government didn’t agree with the leadership that started the practice. They leaked it to the public hoping to pressure our leaders to end the practice and free those wrongfully imprisoned. While we prefer to live our lives in the sims, and encourage everyone else to join, it’s not okay to take that choice away from you.”
“And your government didn’t care?” Maliek sidestepped a group of boys running past in the opposite direction.
Fejan’s shoulders dipped. “Unfortunately, many Bazij approved of the government’s actions. They believed anyone living in the old world presented an enormous risk to their own health and safety. In their minds, the government protected our people and anyone they rooted. The intel leakers became the first alien sympathizers thrown in here.”
Maliek clenched his fists, furious, but with a greater sense of hopelessness. He’d hoped that Igata and those with her represented a minority. If a majority of Bazij knew and agreed with the government’s actions, the obstacles to escape were greater than he feared.
“How long has this gone on?”
“The public’s known for five years. I’d bet the government’s been doing it for ten.”
Maliek halted, unable to believe such kidnappings had remained hidden for a decade. How many others were stuck here against their will? How many families had lost sons and daughters, with no idea where they’d gone?
Then he had another thought. “You said the government leaks started five years back?”
“Yes,” Fejan confirmed, grabbing both his and Jana’s arms and pulling them forward once more.
“And those first sympathizers are here?”
Fejan nodded.
A glimmer of possibility welled up inside of him. “If we can find them....” Maliek picked up his pace. “As former government workers, maybe they know a way out.”
Fejan pursed her lips. “I suppose. But the Government will control access.”
“So how do we find one of these sympathizers?” Jana leaned in close, speaking in a hushed tone.
Maliek glanced at Fejan. “Any ideas?”
She didn’t respond.
“Fejan?”
She waved him off, indicating silence. Her eyes shifted left and right as though reading.
“Nando,” she said. “And also Zawella. There are others, but I don’t know where they’re located.”
“Great, so how do we find Nando and Zawella?” Maliek asked, ready to head in any direction.
“I know what you’re doing,” a cold, gruff voice said.
The trio halted. A large Bazij, more than a head taller than Maliek, glared at them. He had bright orangish-red horns, which clashed with his maroon uniform.
As Maliek scrambled for a response, Fejan stepped forward to intercept the guard. “We’re discussing the history of Trendium.” She pointed back at Maliek. “My friend here is new today. I’m giving him a tour.”
The Bazij officer shoved her out of the way. She fell backward on the road, grimacing in pain. Maliek leapt forward to help her up. As he reached for her, a fist crashed into the side of his head. He collapsed to the ground, the impact stunning him.
“You’re trying to escape,” the officer accused.
Maliek’s vision swam. The back of his head, elbows, and tailbone ached from hitting the ground.
“We’re not,” Jana protested, moving to shield Maliek and Fejan before the officer struck again.
The Bazij officer punched Jana twice in the gut. Jana doubled over, and the officer popped him on his temple, which dropped him to the ground.
A few bystanders shouted in protest, but no one intervened.
The officer closed in. Maliek shielded his head with an arm, but the officer kicked him in the side. Pain shot through his ribs. Bile rose into his throat. His vision blurred.
The officer bent over him. Maliek cringed, trying to beg the man to stop, but he couldn’t form the words.
Instead of further attacks, the officer whispered, “We don’t tolerate escape attempts. I’m adding you to our watch list. All three of you. Next time we’ll do a lot worse.”
He straightened and walked away, whistling.