Where I Want To Be

Zackley led Zallus through the darkened, circular bore Side had made into a hallway, until they approached the last indented door on the right side. After several hard tugs on the handle, the rusted metal hinges whined open. Follow me up, Zackley said, and thrust his handi nto the darkness, bringing out a thick braid of rope.

He braced his back and legs against opposite walls and began to pull himself up and out of sight. Zallus took the rope, careful not to let it slip into the dark, and began hoisting himself up as well.

You know, I used to climb trees quite a bit, Zallus called upward, but I remember it being a lot harder than this. Aren't you supposed to get less fit as you get older?

Hah! You're not old, Mr. Zallus, Zackley's voice returned from above, huffing slightly, but you're right; this shouldn't feel easy unless you've kept yourself quite healthy. Weren't you saying something about …not remembering?

Zallus heard a grunt of exertion as the rope above jerked to one side, and then became taut again. Okay, I'm up. You don't have to climb to the top; when you get up to me, just jump across to the ledge here, Zackley said, panting. Yes, quite healthy… unlike me.

Zallus found the bottom ledge with his back and reoriented himself around. He saw Zackley leaning out over him, with a slight, warm light glowing out from behind him. Yeah, I think there's about ten years that I just can't—access. Maybe I was a rock climber, and then fell and hit my head? Zallus laughed as he pulled himself up and started rocking the rope over. Zackley caught it, and Zallus jumped over.

I don't think hitting your head works like that, Zallus. Besides, that doesn't explain why you're here, and not in a hospital on Earth. …Unless this is a dream, Zackley offered, beginning to walk toward the light at the mouth of the short tunnel.

It was a joke, Zackley; I've never been particularly interested in pulling myself up huge, dangerous piles of stone just to look down to where I already was, and I don't think visiting alien worlds would make me any more likely to want to, Zallus said dryly.

Also, if it were a dream, it still wouldn't make any sense. As far as I know, dreams don't obey so many rules, especially ones where I can burn things by worrying at them, but still have to walk and run and climb everywhere. Besides, Zallus half-smiled, I never really dream, anyway.

Zackley laughed, and waved for Zallus to catch up.

Zackley emerged into the afternoon light in a small patch of green, surrounded on all sides by the blank, shining black edifices making up the commercial section of the city. Zallus followed soon behind him, wandering out from the small bump of dirt and rocks into which had been drilled the tunnel entrance. Zallus blinked as his vision again adjusted, and felt the warm air from the tunnel mingling with the cool, shady artificial valley.

The object before them, parked diagonally and reaching both corners of the small lot, could be described succintly as a subway car. It was long and thin, bearing several small windows spaced evenly along the sides, and half-open double-doors at the center. It was caked on all sides in dirt, sand, grime and soot, but looked to be otherwise new, or just very well-built; there were no faded, chipped, or rusted sections of the outer surface, and the whole car seemed to glow slightly and evenly from every surface, edge and corner. It was also, Zallus now noticed, floating, precisely as high off the ground as the surrounding buildings.

Zackley walked up to the doors and chirped a thought to them; they dutifully slid open, silent save for the patter of dirt being brushed off and falling to the ground. Zackley stepped inside. Zallus stepped forward to enter behind him, but the doors slid shut again. Now clean, they were clearly made from the same glassy, layered material as the buildings and most everything else, but these were actually colored from the inside; they seemed to have an pattern of grass. Camoflague.

Zackley was visible through the windows walking to the far end of the car, then sitting down and pressing his hand against some sort of protuberance. The doors slid open again, and Zallus walked through them.

As far as Zallus could tell from looking around inside, it really was a subway car, or at least had been at some point; there were holes on the floor and walls where seats and hand-holds would be attached, but now were mostly empty. Four of them, though, forming a square on the floor, had large, metal clamps forced into them, each pointed inward; they seemed like a good way to hold machinery or cargo in place. There were only two pairs of seats, one at each end of the car, with a console affacing each. Zallus approached the one Zackley was sitting at.

Sit down here, adn touch this, Zackley said, pointing at a large, hemispherical shape protruding from the blank console. Zallus did, and a loud, low buzz echoed through the car until he took his hand off. Zackley seemed slightly startled.

Was that bad? Zallus asked.

No; it just can't access your mind to draw an interface. It means you're not Tawaa. It's alright, though; you're not the one driving, so you don't need to have any sort of high-speed interface—I'll switch on the auxiliary visual one for you, Zackley said and chirped again, at which point the flat panel around the protrusion lit up. I was mostly curious as to whether it would recognize you, though.

"Ah. Wait, define Tawaa," Zallus prompted.

Anyone who can access the Un in any permanent fashion is considered Tawaa. It's a culture, basically; it overrides whether you're Celesan or Sutellan, because Tawaa act like Tawaa no matter where they come from or how they were born, and no one else acts quite like them, Zackley said, seeming to be bored by the subject.

Are you Tawaa, then? Zallus asked, a note of apprehension in his voice.

No, actually—and you don't need to worry; it isn't a sensitive subject, especially here on Equus where there are about equal proportions of all the major cultures by design. You do have to be careful about mentioning the Un in some places… but, like I was saying, no, I'm not Tawaa. I can switch off my connection to the Un whenever I please, so I suppose I'm… Sutellan, by the definition. Although we don't distinguish Sutellans from Celesans where I come from.

Oh! I had been meaning to ask that, Zackley, Zallus perked up, where are you from?

Zackley hesitated, then looked away, seeming both annoyed and unsure about something. Zallus noted that he had indeed found a sensitive subject.

Well, anyway, Zallus offered, let's get moving, shall we?

Zackley nodded, and ran his finger up the diameter of the hemisphere. With a sudden sensation of increasing gravity, they began to rise from the enclosure and out into the sky.