Tansu

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. That’s why they call this part of the city the Vacuum. We moved to Tansu twenty years ago with the promise of a new beginning and a bright future. But that is not what we got. Earth was overpopulated so people were asked to volunteer to move to other planets that had been deemed suitable for human life. Tansu was one of them, but no one considered what would happen to a planet that was not originally intended to support humans.

There were very few creatures here and none were suitable for eating so we had brought with us cows, chicken, pigs, fish, and other various poultry along with animals for comfort, like dogs and cats. But the scientists struggled to keep the animals alive so many of our resources went to sustaining their lives so that those animals could sustain our life. When the people began to complain about a shortage of meat, the people in power tried to convince us that we just needed to be patient. Everything would work out if we just gave the animals time to adapt to the new environment.

But the new environment included almost no light. In fact, it rained most days and the small respites from the rain were so short that everything remained wet at all times. Apparently the scientists who said we could live here forgot the basics of photosynthesis that most of us learned about in high school. Without sunlight, plants can’t grow. Without plants, most of the animals we eat have nothing to eat. Without being able to eat, humans die.

It took our leaders years to finally admit that maybe waiting wasn’t the best option. We spent the next few years trying to get back to earth. About a year ago someone leaked that there were only enough resources to get about one hundred people back to earth. The rest would be left on this planet to die. This obviously did not sit well with the people who were going to be left behind, so they decided to blow up the one ship that was able to make the trip home.

So now we are here trying to survive on a planet that is wholly unsuitable for human life. But no one hears our screams for help.

Resources were rationed. Literally everything we do is monitored to make sure that it sustains life as long as possible. There are no vehicles of any kind and the people who are lucky enough to have horses for transport are only the rich, about fifty people. Only a few people are approved to have children, and those are only the people who have connections with the highest ranking officials. As a medic, I have personally watched most of my friends die.

I hear the front door open and close quickly.

“Are you ok?” My husband whispers.

“Yes,” I say. “She stayed quiet the whole time you were gone. Were you able to get more food?”

“I found one person willing to barter.” He showed me his stash of fruits and vegetables. “Also, I got this.”

He hands me a small bag and I gingerly open to look inside and see what he is so excited about.

“Eggs!” I say almost too loudly.

“Shh! We don’t want the neighbors to hear!”

I pull my daughter close to my chest. We will have nourishment for a few more days, giving us some more time to figure out how to keep our one-month old baby. Approval to have a child was only given if you applied before you were pregnant. But we found out late in the pregnancy and were not going to sacrifice our child because of the mistake of our leaders. So I faked a severe illness and stayed home. But soon we were going to have to leave. Someday our little girl would have to leave this tiny apartment.

“Little Girl, daddy brought home food!” We haven’t been able to name her. We are both too afraid that someone will notice her and the authorities will come to take her. For some reason giving her a name makes that more terrifying. So we just call her “Little Girl.”

“What about getting out of town, Callen?” We have heard rumors of a resistance, people who have escaped Tansu and lived freely outside the city limits. But traveling with a newborn is complicated and the police force seems to be strengthening despite the decreasing daily rations.

“I have a meeting in about an hour with someone who has promised me help. I’m hopeful this time, Sal,” he says. But his eyes are tired and I know that he is becoming desperate.

“Are you sure we can trust this guy?”

“No,” he says sadly. “Are we ever sure?”

“Fair enough.” I grab his hand and look him in the eyes. “Let’s hope this guy actually knows what he is doing.”

Just then we hear a pounding at our door. Terrified, I run to the closet to hide with our little girl and Callen gives me enough time to get semi-comfortable.

As he starts to open the door, a man pushes himself inside and then slams the door shut.

“You’ve been compromised,” he says. “The guy you were supposed to meet with is a government agent. He was going to turn you in.”

“Who are you?” Cal asks. I can’t see him but I can hear the tension and confusion in his voice. I pick up the gun we found in a back alley a few months ago and point it to the closet door in case this intruder opens it. We have only ten bullets and know that the gun will alert the authorities so we have to make each shot count. If we have to use it, we also have to run.

“I know about your baby.”

I start to tremble and clutch her closer to my chest.

“How?” Cal asks.

“It doesn’t matter how. What matters is that we need to get you out of Tansu tonight. Because if we know, then they know too.” The stranger’s intensity becomes palpable.

“Who is we?” I can hear Cal’s voice closer to the closet where I’m hiding. I can tell he is standing close to the door.

“We are the resistance, the people who are trying to survive despite the efforts of our leaders. We have figured out a way to stay under the radar so that we can actually live our life in freedom, not bartering on the streets for food or hiding in the closet with a gun.”

As I listen, I realize this man knows I’m here. Apparently he’s been watching us for some time. But why? What is so unique about us? Desperate to know the answers, I open the closet door and hand the gun to Cal.

“How do you know all this?” I ask as Cal points the gun at him.

“You have, what? Eight bullets?”

“More,” Cal says defensively.

“Well, that’s more than most. But I’m here to tell you that if you come with me I will get you all to safety and give you more than just a gun to defend yourself. You’ll be part of an army that is becoming stronger everyday.” He can tell Cal and I are skeptical. “Have you noticed that the police seem to be getting stronger but your rations are getting smaller? They are giving the police the rations of the people who are leaving town and taking more from those who are staying to build up the police force. They are trying to keep as many of you under their regime as possible but they are also building an army to fight us. We have been growing our army for the past few years. I can explain more later, but we need to go now.”

Cal and I look at each other concerned. What if this is a trap? What if he doesn’t keep us safe? But then we both look at our little girl and realize that if he knows about her, others might as well. At least this guy seems to be on our side.

“Are you coming or not? If so, you have about sixty seconds to grab whatever you want from this place. Keep in mind that you are never coming back here.”

Cal and I already had our bags packed so we grab them along with a couple pictures we had out from our life before all of this. I also grab a small jewelry box and put it in my backpack.

“Perfect. Let’s go.”

He leads us out the door and down the hallway to the back entrance where we meet another man. They whisper to each other and then motion for us to follow. I try to shield Little Girl from the rain but the wind is blowing it in my face. I keep my eyes on her as I also try to keep my eyes on our guides so that I can comfort her at the first sign of her crying.

We wind through a few back alleys and then another person steps out of the shadows and pulls open a manhole cover. We look down and see another person down there and the first man motions us to climb down. Cal goes first and when he is about halfway down I hand our daughter to him. He hops down the rest of the way and then I climb down and he hands her back to me.

“We have to walk about three miles before we can rest,” the first man says as he takes a swig from a canteen and hands it to us. We both smell it and realize it is probably just water so we both take a big drink. The sewers smell awful but the respite from the storm above is welcome.

We start walking, slowly but deliberately through the sewers. Cal and I take turns carrying our little girl so that we both conserve our energy. So far this guy seems to be on our side but we have no idea where this sewer ends.

After about an hour we come to a fork in the sewers. The four people whisper to each other and then turn to look at us.

“We have about a half-a-mile left,” the woman of the group says. “But this last half is extremely steep and requires both your hands to make it. Our suggestion is that you let one of us tie your daughter to us since we have all climbed this before.”

“Why can’t we wrap her tight to us?” Cal clutches our girl tight.

“You are basically rock climbing for the next half mile. Have you done that before?” the first man asks. “Because if you are confident in your ability to free climb a slippery wall, then go for it. But I can guarantee you that Aaron here can get to the top with your girl on his back without a single mistake. We are more than happy to have one of you go in front of Aaron and the other behind him if you don’t trust us.”

We finally agree and after another minute of walking I am glad that we do. They were not kidding about climbing up a slippery wall. They give us both gloves with a special grip on the fingers and then wrap the baby on Aaron’s back.

“I will climb first, then Cal, Aaron with the baby, Sal, and then the other two will follow. Climb quickly and do exactly what we instruct no matter how crazy it might sound. Our goal is your survival.”

We all start climbing. About halfway up the wall I am so tired that I want to let go but I know that I have to will myself to keep going. I look at my girl and see that she is peacefully sleeping as Aaron expertly climbs the wall. It is obvious that everyone has done this before.

As the first man gets to the top of the wall we hear footsteps far below. One of the people is still down there keeping watch.

“Go!” he yells. “They’re coming!”

We climb faster and the first man pulls Cal up, then Aaron with the baby, then me. We look down and see that the woman is shot in the right shoulder and losing blood. Aaron hands the baby to me and then quickly climbs down to help her climb up.

“Hurry up! Go! Go! Go!” The man at the bottom of the wall is shooting at the people chasing us.

“Follow me!” Cal and I both start running as fast as we can. The little girl starts to cry and I unsuccessfully try to comfort her as we run. I look up and see horses, some already with riders and others with just saddles. “Can you ride a horse?” the man asks us.

“Yes!” we both yell, but we don’t have time to explain that we haven’t been near a horse since before we came to Tansu. But that doesn’t seem to matter right now. As long as we can stay on the horse I don’t care how well we do it.

Aaron grabs the baby from me and hops on his horse. Cal and I climb on our horses and hear someone smack the rear to start running. I am immediately bouncing around and fighting desperately to hang on as we run as fast as our horses can to an unknown location. I glance over at Cal for a minute and see he isn’t doing much better. I can hear the baby crying but there is nothing I can do to help her right now. I just pray that we make it to safety quickly.

When I feel like I can’t hang on any longer, Aaron yells that we are almost there. I look ahead and see the opening of a cave. We all ride in there and my horse knows to stop. As I look around, the entrance to the cave is gone.

Aaron helps me off my horse and hands me my daughter who immediately calms down in my arms. Cal comes over and hugs us both. It’s dark in the cave and we can barely see much further than each other. Slowly our eyes adjust and we see a path.

“Only a few more minutes of walking and we’ll be able to rest,” I hear the first man say.

We walk slowly and quietly. I wonder about the man who died to save us. Why? What is so important about us?

I see a light in the distance and notice it growing. I also smell food. Someone is cooking food. I haven’t smelled someone cooking food for years. I hear my stomach growl and then Cal’s stomach seems to agree. We walk through an opening and look around. There are hundreds of people, all circled around small fires, cooking food.

“Welcome! Have a seat!”

An elderly lady welcomes us to her fire and hands us a plate with food on it. She also has a makeshift crib where she offers for us to put our daughter. We sit next to the crib, put her down, and start to eat.

“Where are we?” I ask between bites.

“Here is the home of the resistance. My name is Abram.” The first man we met sits down next to us. “Welcome to Little America.”