Transference, p.4
Transference, page 4
“Still, she’s a good place to start. She has favorable politics, and I bet if I show her that I’m not the Allen she remembers then she’ll come back to me. Then I can try to use her connection to get entry to the Medical Authority. It’ll take work but it’s the best damn chance I have. I also need to find access to a very discreet gear salesman, I won’t stay out of danger this whole time I’m sure. Do either of you know someone that’s hustling on the side?”
Now it’s Brian’s turn to sigh. “Yes, but you can’t trust the man to stay quiet. He supplies the Plague Doctors, really nasty shit, and the bastard’s got a loose tongue as soon as drinks are involved. He loves getting ripped and bragging to anyone that will listen about who he supplies. I’ve heard he frequents half the bars in Meadow Hearth. Honestly shocking that the authorities haven’t bagged him, but I guess the Doctors are more of a nuisance than a threat to the rich. I wouldn’t get involved with him unless you absolutely have to.”
I wince. I want nothing to do with those psychopaths. The Plague Doctors are a militant group that has slid from protest towards terrorism over time. Used to be the worst they did was property destruction, burning someone’s house down in Sky’s Reach or blowing up a Box, but more recently they’d hired a chemist. Everyone has heard stories of gas attacks in the streets of Cloud Spire, but I don’t know how credible they are. The Doctors are no revolutionaries though. They seemed to be more interested in chaos and pain than meaningful change.
“Okay, we’ll save that trick for much later then. Micah, I’ve been wondering about this, how do you intend to get me back to my new family without raising any suspicions? What’s my backstory?”
There’s a twinkle in Micah’s eye as he responds. “Honey, there is no backstory! You came by Michelangelo’s to get some work done, and stayed to recover. The truth always sounds the most natural, and no one polite will ask you what work you had done. Besides, you’ve got those lovely green eyes now, I’m sure they’ll just fawn over them when you return.”
I knew my time was coming to a close, but hadn’t realized how quickly it could end. I swallow down my anxiety. “So, I’ll just walk right in there?”
Micah chuckles. “No dear, your days walking are over. We’ll call your family tram when you’re ready.”
I stand up, and so do they. I extend my hand to Brian, and he swats it away and wraps me in a bear hug. My frame is so much bigger than he’s used to that he laughs as he hugs me, and I hug the old man back.
He pulls back but holds onto my shoulders. “It’s good to see you so alive, kid. Keep it that way. Go up into your new playground and make some friends, but don’t forget where the hell you came from. We’re all still down in the dirt suffering. You know where to find me if you need me—” He moves back and bows to me. “Monsieur Cloudspire.”
I chuckle at him. “Thank you, my friend. Micah, we’ll call the tram tomorrow.”
Chapter 4
Anxiety writhes within me. Until now, I’ve hidden in the shelter of my friends, slowly advancing my purpose. But like a young bird, I knew there was always a moment when I’d be pushed from the nest. Will I fly, or will I fall? I’m pacing in Micah’s anteroom. I know it’s not calming me but I can’t stop it. The tram is on the way.
“There can be echoes, you should be aware of that darling. The host’s memories can rise up in extreme circumstances,” Micah says, and I ignore him.
This is where Micah receives his clients, it’s spacious and tasteful. Plush brown leather couches surround a coffee table on one side of the room, and a beautifully polished antique espresso machine is set up next to it with a row of miniature white cups. The other side of the room is dominated by full length mirror booths that allow you to see every angle of yourself. The floor is covered with tiny tiles, a beautiful mosaic in black and white. The beauty and calmness only expands my anxiety until it’s bouncing off the too high ceilings and echoing with each tap of my boots on the floor.
“It might be wise to avoid excess alcohol too, seems your Allen was a bit of a partier, and those urges tend to stick around,” he continues.
Last night, I pored over the files Micah gave me, unable to sleep as I imagined what might happen in the next moments, the next weeks, the next months. I understand Allen’s family, my family, but it feels superficial. They’re real people, not a page in a document that I can memorize, and it terrifies me. I’ve gambled my existence and my future on this, and I can’t falter.
“Those strong memories will all settle down as you get more used to him, though. It just takes a bit longer to fully incorporate.”
I’ve transferred the majority of the credits I had to Micah to cover the work he’s done, and the recovery from it. The rest I sent to my mother, through Brian of course, as an inheritance from my death. I wish it would ease the burden, but I know it won’t. Micah has helped me gain access to Allen’s accounts now, so there’s no use for the credits that got me this far. As I stare down at my screen, I see it recognizes me as him, and the sum of money tied to my new name seems completely irrational.
Micah says something else, but I miss it.
“What’s that again, chap?” I finally pause in my pacing and face Micah. My heart is racing.
He looks as nervous as I feel. “There’s something else important you need to know, before the tram gets here. My information hasn’t always been perfect. I don’t think anyone knows of Allen’s untimely passing, but there’s always a chance.” He’s rushing to spew this out, and from the lights that are playing over the anteroom now I can tell that the tram is landing outside.
“You’re telling me this now?! Dammit Micah, what the hell does that mean?”
“Just keep your eyes open, don’t be a fool, and be ready to take preventative measures.” At this, he hands me a package. It’s a box the length of my forearm, thin and only as wide as my hand, wrapped extravagantly in shiny gold and purple. I take it from him and stare dumbly at it as the door flies open behind me.
I turn sharply, too fast, and startle a well-dressed porter who is holding the door open. He recovers, and bows deeply to me. “Sir Allen, what a pleasure to see you again. The family was starting to grow concerned—” Seeing my wild eyes and sweat on my brow he pauses, “Is all as it should be, sir?”
I comb my memory, and the name Joseph Meadowhearth surfaces. No older relatives, one daughter, friendly character, family has been porters to mine for generations. I relax my face and give him my best heir-quality smile. “All good, chap, just coming down from a few medical things. Great to see your mug again, Joe. Any chance you brought any of the family with you?” I need to know what I’m walking into.
“No, sir, the hovercar is empty, as you prefer. They await your arrival in Cloud Spire.”
“Good man, that’s for the best. I need a few moments to breathe before we get there is all.” Turning back to Micah, I jut out my hand officiously. “It’s been a treat as always, Michalengelo, your reputation is well earned.” We shake hands, and I give him a playful wink. Then I turn and follow Joe out of the shop.
Outside, I am overwhelmed immediately by the luxurious hovercar parked on the promenade. Transportation needs are limited in the city, and it’s almost certainly faster to walk in the lower levels, so I’ve never been in one. I’d see them darting through the night sky, always too fast to see clearly, a world apart from my understanding. Shiny metal, glass, and sleek lines dominate the exterior—it looks like a skyscraper replica made miniature. Glass covers the entire cabin, allowing a panoramic view when you’re above the city, or at the flick of the switch it can become clouded to offer privacy. Lush purple lounge seats line both sides of the cabin, which is fully separated from the cockpit.
With a start, I realize that Joe is holding the door to the cabin open for me and likely has been for some time. Lowering my head, I climb into the cabin and sink into the rear seat. Comfort soothes me instantly. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, and Joe clicks shut the door behind me. Sound from outside is instantly muffled, and a faint jazz music plays from hidden speakers. Music is so rare these days, and the commonality of it playing in the cabin of a tram for a solo passenger astounds me.
Joe speaks to me through an intercom in the cockpit. “Straight to the house then, master Allen?”
“Let’s take a cruise around the city first. I want to see the lights, Joe.” This was a common request from Allen, and I can tell that Joe was anticipating it.
“Of course, sir, I’ll turn off the opacity once we get a little higher.” I realize at this that we’re already in the air, but take-off was so smooth it didn’t even register.
In another few moments, there’s a soft click that seems to come from every surface around me. As if they’re dissolving, all of the exterior surfaces slowly turn translucent. My stomach drops at the distance beneath my feet, and I have to quell a sudden urge to vomit. The city sleeps ten stories beneath us, sprawling in every direction. It’s beautiful from up here, a carpet of lights, but the distance makes it feel trivial. Other cars zoom around us, and for an instant I see into the lives of their passengers. This one reading the paper, that one putting on make-up, another couple that’s arguing. It’s a whole life that I never knew existed, down on the ground, and it sucks me in.
As we climb higher, the scale of the city comes into view, and it draws a sharp contrast to the walls that line it. Five Boroughs and Meadow Hearth cover a massive swath of land, but from up here in miniature their defining visual trait is the abrupt end at the circular wall of the city. The higher we climb, it’s harder to see the specifics of those places. From up here, only the sprawling towers and the edges of the city seem to matter.
We’re in a procession of hovercars that are circling the towers of Cloud Spire. They must rise a hundred stories off the ground. Each level has a landing pad, and several have external structures that pock the exterior surface of the tower. Massive open-air gardens, fully glass swimming pools, and other niceties cantilever from the building’s sides to support the taste of the uber wealthy. Trams are constantly spiraling inwards to land, or lifting off to join the swirling mass. In the distance, I can see the mega structures of Sun Gate—they somehow still dwarf all this.
A tram suddenly swerves towards us, and Joe takes immediate evasive maneuvers. We dive and twist, tossing me against the harness that holds me to the cushioned seat, and the other car breezes over our side without colliding. I swirl around and catch a glimpse of the driver howling in laughter and glee, his eyes are wild and bloodshot. The car continues its upward trajectory through the swirling mass, almost hitting two others before it shoots out into unoccupied air and dives toward the city.
From his side profile, I see Joe mutter something in distaste.
“What a buffoon. Thanks for the quick moves, Joe.”
“Aye, sir. Luna took a toll on that one,” he says pointedly, and I surmise that Joe knows of Allen’s bad habits.
“A distasteful state, it really is robbing our best and brightest. I know I’ve had my own past with it, but I’m a new man now.”
“Happy to hear that, sir, and I’m sure the family will be very pleased to hear it as well. My little Josephine is a big fan of yours, and I’d hate to tell her you went down the drain like those users.”
“Ahhh, how is the little tyke now?” I say, smiling. Memories flood me of Allen giving a ride on his back to a young girl at a family party while she laughs gleefully.
“Taller and brighter by the day, probably the smartest girl our family has seen. She’ll be taking the job from her old man any day now” Joe says proudly, and I can see him smiling now.
There’s something special here, something I wasn’t expecting. Joe and his family seem to be an integral part of my family, even though they’re only from Meadow Hearth. For generations, our two lines have been intertwined, and seemingly with mutual respect. I wonder how Joe views it.
Shaking me from my thoughts, Joe says, “ready to land now, sir?”
“Let’s go home. I have to face them at some point.”
Joe nods, and pilots the car to a higher level. We’re climbing towards the top of the tower, and I wonder how high up there home is. I look down at the package sitting in my lap that Micah gave me, and feel a sudden itch to tear it open. We circle closer to the magnificent tower, all polished metal and glass, until at the tenth floor from the top Joe expertly flicks the car around and reverses onto a landing pad.
The house behind us is massive, it would easily swallow a city block of houses in Five Boroughs. It stretches upwards with twenty-foot high ceilings, and all the edges gleam polished silver. A garden is suspended off to one side, and opposite that are some smaller private balconies that must adjoin different rooms of the house. Some of the glass, which covers every surface, has been turned transparent, and behind the windows I see a shining magnificence that makes my imagination feel petty. There’s a kitchen the size of my family home with two cooks working, and in another room a hand-carved wooden table with matching high-backed chairs that stretches to a comical length. I see a room dominated by a massive bed, and a woman standing in the window sees the car land and hurries to the front entrance.
I’m an alien on pilgrimage to an unknown land, and when we land I just want to ask Joe to take me back. Take me away from here, leave me in the Boroughs with the people I know and the comfort of barely scraping by, of looking out for one another. But he’s pulling the door open for me, and I’m mechanically swinging out of the car to meet this life head on.
The woman from the house is running towards the car. She’s a classic beauty with shoulder length blonde hair and curves that pop from her high-waisted dress. As she’s running to me, everything is flouncing and bouncing. I think at first this must be Allen’s sister from her age, but the documentation said he didn’t have one, and as she draws near I realize this is his mother. Alicia Cloudspire. Supposedly she’s in her 50s, but I don’t see a single sign that she continued to age past 30. I wonder how much time she’s spent with Micah.
She reaches me and throws her arms around me, crying into my chest. I mechanically put my arms around her with Micah’s present still clutched in my left hand.
“Hullo, Mother, I’ve returned.”
“Allen, we thought, you’ve been gone so long, oh hell I thought something terrible happened.” She gets out around her sobs. She hugs me fiercely and then separates herself. At arms distance now, she stares into my eyes. “Oh, your eyes! What a marvelous shade of green you chose. Sweetheart, if you wanted to get some work done you know you didn’t have to hide it from us. Your mum could have given you some advice, you know. We were so worried about you! Why didn’t you call us? Your father will be so relieved to see you.” All this rushes out of her, like a faucet that’s been flipped to full open. I look over her shoulder to see the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway, smoking a pipe.
“Let’s go see dad,” I say, and she takes my arm as we walk back to the house. My father is a muscular, regal man. As we get closer, I see his gray hair is cut short and he sports a tightly cropped beard. Allen Sr. is a firm man who enjoys his smoking pipe and neat whiskey, but as we get close enough I can see that he’s crying. I let go of Mom’s arm and hug him, and he hugs me back tighter than I ever expected.
“I’m glad you’re okay, son. You gave us quite a scare. Where the hell have you been, anyways?”
I put a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ve been recovering at Michelangelo’s, but not just from his work. I had a close call with Luna, and I’m off the stuff for good. I’m sorry I scared you two, I just needed to find myself again.”
My mom makes a small choking noise at this, and hugs me again. My dad piles onto the hug afterwards too. It’s a touching moment, but it’s not mine. There’s a small pang of guilt for the betrayal, for the fact that they’re hugging a walking corpse of their son, but I remind myself that these bastards deserve it. People like this prop up the whole system, they think it’s normal and fair. They’re complicit and I can’t let myself forget that.
“Let’s go inside and have some dinner. We heard you were coming and the cooks have been working all day on a celebration meal. Charon will be delighted to see you too, I’m sure,” my dad says. For a moment, I freeze at the name. It resonates with something in my new memories, but nothing concrete comes up.
With their arms on my back, we walk into the house, and as the door clicks shut behind me I know my fate is sealed. Wherever this road leads, I’m on it now and there’s no turning back.
Chapter 5
The house is stunning, and I have to constantly remind myself not to gawk, not to give away that I’m in awe of everything around me. The ceiling, twenty feet up, is covered in a tasteful mixture of mirrors, hand painted frescoes, and chandeliers that simultaneously make the rooms feel infinite and classic. There are noise disruptors built into the walls, so no matter how loud you are there’s never an echo, and every conversation sounds intimate. Majestically thick carpets and hardwood cover the floors. Wood is very rare in the city so this display of wealth immediately makes me blanch. Every room seems to be a new treat, a feast for the eyes and senses.
Before exploring the house, I make my way to Allen’s bedroom. The space is massive and spartan. There are no personal touches visible, and the room is dominated by a massive bed and impressive closets on either side with mirrored doors. At the back of the room a glass door exits onto a personal balcony, and in the corner next to it is a shower covered in wrap-around glass paneling.
I set Micah’s package down on the bed, and after thinking on it, decide to tuck it underneath the pillow. I’ll open it later, when I get some time alone. Then I move to the closets. I’ve been wearing a suit jacket and shirt recovered near Allen’s body all day, and it feels vile. The mirrored doors slide noiselessly open as I approach, and I stare at a row of tuxedos, suit jackets, ties, vests, and silk shirts. Up to this point, I wore one of two high durability jumpsuits every day and never thought about my clothing. Half of these articles of clothing don’t even make sense to me how to wear, and I realize this is a massive oversight in my training.
