“The rest of the humans,” he started to ask, “they’re all in those pods?”
“No,” Gauge said. “You were just a special crop and a Council secret. Most humans live in the lower city ghettos. They live in shacks, or ruins, or even just the streets while usually spending most of their time fighting each other, tweaking out on drugs, and surrounding themselves with mindless entertainment. You probably can’t even imagine the kind of squalor the millions of slum dwellers live in each day. And it’s not just the humans. Poor I.I.s, or those who found themselves out of the Council’s favor, call the ghettos their home as well.”
“Sounds like Hell,” Ethan said, wishing dearly that Gauge had left him in the simulation pod.
The mechanical man nodded, then added, “The only difference is that Hell can’t be changed. We’re almost there.”
Ethan felt relieved as the autocar finally lighted down on the roof of a ruined apartment building. He had no idea where they were going, but looking around, it was clear they were in one of the ghettos Gauge had mentioned.
“This way,” Gauge said as the autocar door slid open. He hopped out and walked over to a roof-access door. He waited for Ethan to join him before opening the door and stepping inside.
The stairwell was full of dust and a good number of the steps were missing. Ethan stumbled a little once, but Gauge caught him and steadied him. Aside from the loud sounds of them descending the dilapidated stairs, Ethan couldn’t hear anything. They were alone here.
They took the stairs down four flights before Gauge led the way down a short corridor, then down another flight. The stairs were metal and the building was made more solid concrete the deeper they went. Ethan guessed that they were underground now.
“We’re going through the city’s old geothermal network,” Gauge explained. “It used to power the city, but this section has since been shut down. That’s why it makes the perfect hideout.”
He led Ethan down a number of metal tunnels and more stairwells, all the while the light around them grew dimmer and redder. It was a labyrinth, but Gauge seemed to know every turn to take without a moment’s delay. Ethan couldn’t count the number of bends and dips they took or how long they’d been underground. Neither of them said a thing.
After what seemed like forever, the tunnel emptied out to a wide wall of pipes and tubes and a large steel door. The door had a bolt on it so large that it looked like it took two people to open it. Ethan couldn’t help but think of the huge bank vault doors he’d sometimes see in crime movies.
Gauge stepped forward and rapped on the door with his fist. His knock had a specific rhythm of tap tap, tap tap, bang! He stepped back, and Ethan waited in silence with him. Eventually, the bolt slid open with a loud thunk and the door began to open.
The bodyshell turned to Ethan and smiled.
“Welcome to the Furnace,” he said, gesturing to the slowly opening door. “Secret headquarters of the People’s Union.”
Interrogation
“I’m telling you everything I know,” Tera said to the bodyshell in charge of questioning her. “I am Tera Alvarez, and I am a Shell City Police Officer. I swear!”
“Oh good, she swears,” the third person in the room commented with over-obvious sarcasm. “I say we let her go, then.”
The light strips that ran along the seams of the room, where the walls met the ceiling and floor, did little to actually illuminate the chamber. It seemed to be there to set the mood, rather than help anyone see each other.
In her training at the academy, Tera had seen one of these interrogation rooms a handful of times, but always from the outside. She had watched a mock questioning from behind the one-way mirror. Just like the mirror in this room.
I wonder how many of them are watching me, she thought, staring at her own reflection. I wonder what they are thinking. How guilty do they believe I am?
The bodyshell that asked her the question was tall and slender. She couldn’t tell if he hunched over the table at her as some form of intimidation, or just because the ceiling was too low for him. She hadn’t seen him stand to full height since he’d entered.
The one who made the sarcastic comment leaned against the wall, far away from the table where Tera was shackled. He was shorter, but something about him told Tera that he was much older. He seemed almost bored as he watched the interrogation play out.
“We didn’t ask you if you were Tera Alvarez,” the tall one in her face said, ignoring his partner. “We asked you where the rest of Truck’s Raiders are, and if they’re planning an attack.”
“I don’t know that!” she pleaded. “I was only there for a day because they used an E.M.P. on me.”
“The same E.M.P. they used on Abenayo, right?” the one in the corner said skeptically.
“Yes,” Tera said.
“Then why is Abenayo dead and you’re not?” the tall one asked, hunching closer to Tera’s face.
“I told you, I was too far away,” Tera explained. “Abenayo and the raider guy were right in each other’s faces when the detonation went off. I imagine he’s the one who triggered it.”
The bored-looking cop in the corner scoffed.
“It’s true!” Tera whined.
“Sounds convenient,” the shorter one said. “Sounds incredible, even. To me, the logical assumption is that you’re lying. You’re just an impostor.”
“You’ve seen the scan results, ‘Tera’,” the tall one said. “Your I.I. frequency doesn’t match our records, and you know that can’t be faked. We’ve also confirmed Officer Alvarez’s deletion — how dare you pretend to be a dead cop.”
“That’s impossible,” Tera argued. “I don’t know why the frequencies don’t match. Someone must be doing this to me!”
“Sure,
