Dominions

II

II

- II -

- II -Karon checked the gate every day. That was part of the contract he’d signed.

Well, made his mark. Wasn’t too good at writing, was he? Never saw the point in learning. Not when it was easier to tap on icons, or speak and have a screen translate. But this job was different, worked old-school. And the text of the contract was all twisted. Even running it through a few systems on his screen, it confused Karon. He’d asked for clarification, but his supervisor told him it wasn’t important. Visit the gate every day, follow procedures, and he’d be paid. Did he need to know any more?

Karon didn’t. So he did what the old man asked. Every morning‌—‌sometimes before the sun rose, depending on the time of year‌—‌he’d wake, shower, grab a bite to eat, then leave his room, head for the decayed building in the shadow of the glass. He’d sidle down the alley at the side of the building, pull at the fake pallet, use the key to open the door behind it.

The key sat in his pocket all the time, attached to his belt by a cord. It was the only key he’d ever owned.

Behind the pallet-door, he’d lift the metal grate in the floor and enter the maze.

That wasn’t its official name, but it did the job. There were so many dead-ends, and even with the map he’d been sent, the one that would self-erase, it had taken Karon three days to learn the correct path. It didn’t help that he had to work around the traps. Some he’d avoid by ensuring he didn’t tread on specific spots or didn’t hesitate too long at a junction. Others needed turning off with the key and a palm-print, then reactivating once he’d passed.

Tyam wouldn’t have come this way, though. There were other paths, from different start-points. Karon only knew his own route. It helped with security, his supervisor had said.

It normally took half an hour to get to the gate, and Karon would then relax for a moment. He’d seal himself in, pour a drink‌—‌he always brought a flask, as there were no refreshment facilities in the gate. He’d usually use the toilet, hidden in the recess to the left of the desk, and it no longer bothered him that he was peeing in the same room he worked in.

Then he’d wait, getting paid for doing nothing. The desk-screen would ping at the end of his shift, and he’d go home.

Sometimes there would be an alert on the screen, and he’d have to leave the room, collect the package from the hidden storage outside, then take it through the second door and into the dark passageway. He’d seal it in a container at the half-way point, return to his gate, then signal Salika.

She’d then collect it. Or she had someone else pick it up. It didn’t bother him, one way or the other. Just as it didn’t bother him what the packages contained. They were never too heavy, and there were no markings on the outside. The contents were none of his concern. He did his job, collected his pay, and asked no questions.

Sometimes he’d get a message from Salika that she’d dropped off a package, and he’d do the same procedure in reverse. Again, he never asked questions.

And, on very rare occasions, there was a message telling Karon to expect a walker.

He’d only ever had one from the Dome, and that had been a few years ago. He remembered the day well, because he’d had a scuffle on the way to work‌—‌rare that he saw anyone, and he reckoned this i***t had been out drinking until the early hours, hadn’t made it home yet. It shook Karon up, and he’d been looking forward to a day of doing nothing, sealed in his solitude. But he’d had a visitor instead.

The man had been large and muscular, but didn’t hold himself right. He wore clothes similar to those Tyam had turned up in, but also had a pendant on a gold chain around his neck. It looked expensive, and was far too obvious. Anyone from the districts with anything that nice would keep it out of sight.

And he kept asking questions. Where could he find a decent room for the night, where were the best places to buy a meal, and was this going to be enough money for his stay? He held out a handful of notes, a ridiculous amount, almost like that was a sign of friendship.

He’d been a fool. And when Karon got back to his own room, still uptight, his day ruined, he contacted a few people he kind-of knew. He told these not-really friends where the man might be staying. His asking-price for the information was the pendant.

Karon never saw any of them again‌—‌the i***t from the Dome or those cheapskates who robbed him. And he never got that pendant either.

Which only confirmed his opinion that people weren’t worth the hassle. Better to stay out of the way.

Of the four walkers who had passed through the gate into the Dome, only two had returned.

The first was a young woman, and she’d trembled the whole time she’d been in the room, had stuttered when she spoke. But she had the money, and she responded correctly, so Karon opened the door for her.

She returned after an hour. If there were as many tunnels on the Dome side as on the district side, she must’ve spent only minutes under the glass. But she beamed, and couldn’t stop talking, her eyes wide and her hands waving about. Probably the highlight of her pathetic life, spending all her money so that she could boast of having been in the Dome.

If she talked too much, she was probably dead by now.

The second was a man with long hair set in a plait so perfect Karon wondered if it was fake. He held himself tall, and he returned after a night under the glass. He didn’t speak when he came back, and Karon reckoned he wasn’t the type to boast, so maybe he was still alive.

And now, there was a message from Salika. A walker, due in a couple of hours.

It was a week since Tyam had entered the Dome. Hard to imagine anyone lasting that long, but Karon supposed it was possible.

He sat, let his eyes shut, and waited. He didn’t quite sleep, but it was close.

He wondered what word Salika would use as her code. It would be something obscure, of course. Sometimes he wondered if she were trying to educate him, like he was a pet project. Most of the time he reckoned she was simply being superior, as if knowing more words made her better. Kill, butcher, decapitate, remove. All meant the same thing in the end, no matter how you spoke it.

His thoughts turned to Cleyne and Hya. They’d been busy all week, and he’d only managed to get in one appointment, with Hya. It had been good, but not what he’d built up in his mind. He hoped they were both free soon. He pictured their bodies and their smiles, imagining what they would do as he watched from his chair. He didn’t need fancy words for this, just his imagination. Salika wouldn’t do this, he knew. Her idea of fun would be discussing the meaning of life or something, but what was the point of that? The meaning of life was to enjoy yourself. Talking only got in the way.

The alert sounded, pulling him back to reality. He stretched, stood, checked the screen. Then he paced, waiting.

The code came through at the exact time Salika had indicated. A single word.

Prodigal.

ProdigalKaron kind of knew what that meant. He counted the letters, and racked his brain. Next letter‌—‌Q. Typical. Eight letters, so he needed nine. Salika was making this hard on purpose.

He couldn’t think of one, so he used the screen’s dictionary routine. At one time, he would have looked for a word he’d never heard of, or couldn’t even pronounce. He’d tried to beat Salika. But why bother playing her childish games?

He found a word he knew, and sent it. Qualified.

QualifiedAn icon on the screen blinked, let him know Salika had opened her gate and the walker was through. Karon swiped to the Eye feed and watched the figure approach.

He didn’t recognise the clothes, but if this was Tyam, the man would’ve changed. From what he understood, people in the Dome usually changed a couple of times a day, and had any clothes they’d worn put through a deep wash. Because being clean was important to them. Like sweat was dishonest, or grime from work was wrong.

The lighting in the corridor was low, and Tyam’s stance was different. Before, he’d practically skipped through the gate. Now, he walked with more purpose, and held himself ready for a fight.

Tyam approached the end of the corridor and looked up at the Eye. His face was harsh, with no trace of a smile.

He held a package in one hand, similar to the one Karon had given him a week ago.

Karon opened the door, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

Tyam stepped through without being invited.

“Package.” Karon tilted his head to the table.

Tyam tossed the package onto the table. It hit with a thud, balanced on the edge. Karon would take it to the surface at the end of the day and place it in the pre-arranged drop on his way back to his room.

“Good trip?” The words fell from Karon’s lips, but it felt right to ask. A rare occasion like this deserved‌…‌something.

Tyam tilted his head and frowned, didn’t talk.

Karon only now took in the man’s clothes. They were definitely Dome fashions, but subdued. The jacket was too large, but it gave Tyam room to move. The material of the trousers looked like it stretched, and his black shoes were scuffed with dust and dirt. They had hard edges, too, looked almost like boots.

“Let me through,” Tyam said, through lips that barely moved.

Karon shivered. He opened the far door and stepped to one side. Tyam passed by, and left the gate.

“See you again?”

There was no response. The man’s back grew smaller, then Karon closed the door. He returned to the screen, typing the last message to Salika.

And realised he didn’t want to see the man who called himself Tyam again. He’d survived a week in the Dome, which meant he’d either hid the whole time or he’d blended in. But he could take care of himself in the districts too. He wasn’t someone to be crossed.

He wondered what Salika made of him, though. He wondered if he’d charmed her. But she was smart. She’d know he was from the districts. She’d know he couldn’t be trusted.

And, for the first time, it struck him how little he knew of his counterpart along the dark passageway. He’d worked opposite her for five years now, and he’d never seen her, never even spoken to her. Not really. Messages didn’t count. And they were all work, weren’t they?

His fingers hovered over the screen. But what could he say? He didn’t know her. He couldn’t start a conversation with a stranger.

So Karon waited for the end of his day.