“Today’s September 12,” her artificial voice was as soft as melted butter. “Have a beautiful morning, our darling Sophie.”
The nest of crumpled linen sheets on the gilded, canopied bed moved, and I stuck my tousled head out.
“Thank you, Madame,” I yawned. “I will.”
The aromatic water in the lion-footed marble tub exuded a warm lavender scent, and I spent a blissful quarter of an hour luxuriating in the lilac clouds of handmade bath essence.
Madame did not rush me and even ordered the kitchen robot to make me a cup of espresso. The beans were natural, as natural as my silk robe, my suede home slippers, my antique full-length mirror, the troubling, enticing scent of my fragrance, and the magnificent view from my dressing room window.
Having been allocated the suite of rooms after passing the threshold of maturity, I specifically requested the water view. Dad told me I didn’t have to bother. Our City was built on water, making it impossible to escape its penetrating radiance.
Drinking my coffee on the wrought-iron balcony, I admired the row of pastel-colored houses on the other side of the canal. Madame was right, as usual. The pink blush of an early morning promised an azure sky and a golden autumnal sun later in the day.
The tourist boats at the pier next to the elegant bridge stood empty, but in a couple of hours, the City would be teeming with visitors from the Outside, who were allowed to come here only once in their lifetime and for one day only.
I have never been Outside, but Dad and Mum told me that people there can wait for this visit for dozens of years and still never get it.
“That doesn’t concern the people we’re interested in,” Dad smiled, and I nodded. “Of course.”
Today I was destined to meet one of them, my first, and Madame, who always sensed my hesitation, injected her voice with the right dose of reassurance.
“You’ll do great, darling,” the delicate china cup still trembled in my hand. “Time to get dressed.”
I chose an elegant black shift, accentuating my slender frame and the gleaming wave of wheat-colored hair. The autumn in the City was always mild, with a few rains, arranged by the climate machines.
Stepping out onto the cobblestoned street, I raised my head. An impenetrable dome, protecting us from the harmful Outside atmosphere, extended all the way to the exosphere, where my older brother now served on the satellite patrol station, armed with nuclear rockets.
After the Great War ravaged the Earth, the City remained the only place untouched by the devastation and we were the descendants of the four hundred Guardian Families, who decided to keep it this way.
“At all costs,” my heels tapped the smooth stones. “Whatever it takes.”
“How very true, darling,” Madame’s voice echoed through the invisible plug inside my delicate ear. “The Council is sure you’ll succeed in your task.”
Madame, my robotic mentor, has accompanied me since I started to walk and talk. The City, which strictly controlled its population, could afford the riches available to only the selected few in the Outside, where, as I’ve heard, the masses lived and died in the concrete maze of underground cities.
The street I followed led to the bigger canal, and I waved to the coffee shop owner, arranging some gorgeous flowers in the vase outside the entrance.
I could bet anything that the small herd of scared-looking tourists in ill-fitting clothes at the far end of the street had never seen a real flower. My target was in that herd, and I went forward, picking a blood-colored velvety rose on my way.
#
“The pictures don’t do justice to the City,” he said, and I smiled.
“You’re right, and that’s why we welcome the tourists,” I raised my glass. “Cheers!”
We spoke the Outside language which Madame had taught me in childhood. In my opinion, it was vastly inferior to my mother tongue, with its wealth of cases and inflections, its melodic lilt, and rich vocabulary. The rigid and simple Outside language sounded like an angry dog’s bark. It had absorbed the rest of the Earth’s languages, but we in the City had preserved our ancient speech and our faith.
The café we went into overlooked one of our magnificent golden-domed cathedrals, shadowed by the ochre and scarlet leaves of the park trees.
As both my parents and Madame predicted, our acquaintance was smooth. It was enough for me to drop the rose at his feet.
Handing me the flower, he blushed.
“I owe you a cup of coffee,” I said. “Hope I can steal you for a while.”
He glanced at the guide, and I read in his eyes a mix of fear and desire.
“Just remember to return our guest to the meeting point,” the guide said, and I winked at him.
“Of course.”
The guide, a tall, good-looking guy, wore an inconspicuous lapel pin with a trumpeting angel – the City’s coat of arms. All the guides worked in the City’s internal security department. After the obligatory army service, my brother Andrew also intended to join their ranks.
“By that time, I’ll be rotated to some other Council department,” my Mum explained, “so there’s no danger of nepotism.”
I laughed.
“Considering there are only 50,000 people in the City, we’re all relatives anyway.”
“True,” she admitted, “but your dad’s job, and his department’s, is to make sure you’ll marry someone suitable.”
“Whom I’ve already chosen,” I hugged her, “so now tell me all about Z-437.”
People on the Outside didn’t even have names and were bred artificially.
“Not much to say,” Mum sighed. “Our agents Outside insist he’s responsible for their scientific development and is highly classified. It’s a wonder their government allowed him to join the official delegation.”
Scrutinizing the bland face of the Outsider, I decided their breeding program was rubbish. The man reminded me of a parboiled potato.
“This is real coffee,” I was startled by his words.
“Is there any other kind of coffee?” I frowned, and he looked around.
“Is this all for real?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, and he blushed again.
“I mean the City, all these trees, the river with boats, the sea…”
“Are there no seas Outside?” I acted surprised.
“They’ve turned into toxic swamps,” Z-437 sighed. “We survive on fake food while you dine on fine china and play harps…”
He pointed at the angelic-looking girl at the podium. The café was full, but nobody allowed themselves even a furtive glance toward us. The City was always renowned for its politeness.
Draining my champagne, I shrugged.
“I guess we were lucky first and clever next.”
Z-437 leaned closer, and I caught the sickly-sweet smell of his sweat.
“There must be a secret behind all this.”
“There is,” I clicked my lighter. “Do you want a smoke?”
I was well aware of the total Outside ban on alcohol and tobacco. His eyes darted furtively around, and I rose from my velvet chair.
“I live around the corner. Come to my place, where you’ll feel freer, and I’ll tell you our secret.”
“You haven’t paid,” he stopped me, and I waved my hand.
“No need. We don’t use money because the City takes care of everything.”
I stepped out into the glorious afternoon, knowing he would follow me.
#
Madame assured me that the apartment would be thoroughly cleaned afterward.
“I’ll feel invaded,” I complained. “It’s bad enough these vile creatures swarm our streets, but to let an Outsider into my flat is beyond imaginable.”
“Darling Sophie, the robots will evaporate even the slightest sign of his presence,” Madame said. “Take Max and go to the seaside for a couple of days. Monsieur tells me he also longs for a break.”
Our robotic mentors always communicated behind our backs.
“No chance,” I chuckled. “Max is going to interrogate Z-437, and then the Council will decide his fate.”
I doubted my guest would join the millions of Lowers, the caste relentlessly toiling underground, providing us with all the luxuries we enjoyed every day. Bred thousands of generations ago, they were now content with serving us, their masters.
“No, first he’ll record a confession about his detection of the Outside,” I said, handing Z-437 a cigarette. “Then Max and his department will drain him dry, and he’ll become ashes.”
Tapping my ash, I leaned toward him, mirroring his move in the café.
“So, you want to know our secret,” my voice emanated huskiness. “Please listen.”
His pasty hand holding the cigarette trembled as I opened my mouth to speak.
“Police,” my carved oak door flew open. “Freeze!”
I could swear Max grinned under his black balaclava.
“I’m a guest of the City,” Z-437 sprang to his feet. “I didn’t do anything illegal! She invited me here!”
“We’ll talk at the police station,” Max replied politely. “Please come with us.”
They disappeared down the stairs, and when I went to the balcony, I could just make out the dot of the Internal Security boat, rushing toward the mouth of the canal. The water below shimmered like melted bronze, and Madame’s voice woke up in my ear.
“Would you like anything, our darling Sophie?”
“An espresso would be nice,” I said, basking in the warm sunshine of the Eternal City.
The End
Bio:
Nelly Shulman’s prose was published in numerous literary magazines and anthologies and she has authored three collections of short stories. She is a member of The Society of Authors (UK).