"Can you read this?" he said, pointing to a patch on the left side of his chest.

"Actually, I can't," Dad said.

"You must not be from around here then."

"What language is that?"

It looked like a bunch of symbols and things only resembling letters.

"That's the new Universal Language. Anyway, it says *Travelease.' In case you don't know, Travelease owns all the sidewalks in the city. So if you plan on using the sidewalks, you'll have to pay."

"Then we'll just walk on the road," Dad said.

"One: that's illegal. Two: do you really want to walk on them?" He gestured through the gate, into the city. The sidewalk was relatively clean but the road seemed to be filled with at least an inch of something resembling raw sewage.

Dad decided to react the same way he always had when he didn't want to pay something-with extreme anger.

"That's outrageous!" he cried. "What kind of city is this? Sewage in the streets! Some hokey Universal Language!"

The guard cut him off. "Now now, best not to go insulting the city like that. The Universal Language was the easiest way for all the businesses to communicate with everyone without offending anyone. If you don't like it, you can just walk around."

One of the bodyguards approached the guard just as Dad drew back his fist, most probably to punch the uniformed man in the stomach, and offered him a wad of cash. I couldn't really tell if the guard could see the bodyguard or not, but he took the money and put it into the canister fastened to his back, turning to press a b.u.t.ton embedded in the gate. It swooshed back into itself and the guard said, "You folks have a pleasant evening in Home City."

The eight of us walked into the city. The sidewalks were jammed with people, all of them ducking into the shopfronts, looking at all the garish advertising, talking, arguing and fighting with one another. A man came up to us and said, "Hey hey! Y'all need a tour guide. Can't do the city right without a tour guide. And you," he pointed to me. "You need some shoes. I've got a pair right here that would fit you real nice." He bent down and began taking off his shoes. We collectively ignored him.

Our group continued walking. He followed after us for a while, continuing to squawk. The road was jammed with cars and trucks, taxis. The smell of exhaust mixing with the sewage was overwhelming. People came out of the shops carrying armloads of things. Some of them went straight to a dumpster where they dumped all of their purchases before going into the next store. All the stores were very brightly lighted and filled with people. I heard one woman call out, "Watches are the most important thing in the world to me!" before collapsing onto the middle of the showroom floor.

On the other side of the street was a church. It was one of the tallest buildings, the steeple rising absurdly into the sky. I couldn't be sure but I think it had a radio tower at the top of it. Over the door, a sign flashed in the Universal Language. In fact, all of the signs were in this Universal Language so I didn't know what any of them were for. Most of them were advertis.e.m.e.nts but I didn't know what they were advertising unless there was some kind of picture along with the words. The church had a strip club on the left hand side and a bar on the right hand side. A priest or minister or whatever waited outside each venue, waiting to lure people into the church as they came out. The strip club must have been a hundred stories tall, a girl dancing in each window. Of course they weren't naked. Nudity, here, would probably cost a fortune.

We continued moving.

"If I were a travel agent," Dad said. "Where would I be?"

The onion-faced bus driver came out from behind one of the buildings and, before I even knew what I was doing, I ducked behind one of the bodyguards. Onionhead fired off a round and another bodyguard went down. The other five formed a wall between Onionhead and me and Dad. She ran back behind the building and I wondered why she didn't just stay and try to pick off the remaining five bodyguards. Dad seemed oblivious to it all. He was counting on his fingers and looking up into his head as if trying to remember some vital bit of information. I just stood there and watched him, hating almost everything around me. I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to make it here. My head pounded. My thoughts swam. A group of men in front of us had formed a ladder, trying to make it to the second story of a building, muttering something about "Control."

People dashed on every side of us, b.u.mping into us, pushing us.

"I can't hear myself think!" Dad shouted. "Quick! Follow me!"

He picked up his pace. Now two bodyguards walked in front of us, two behind us, and one on the side facing the street. We reached the end of the block and turned left into an alleyway. When we came out of the alleyway we stood in what I guessed was the center of Home City. Everything here was even larger and gaudier than what we had left behind. Dad ducked into another alley until we were behind yet another building. It wasn't even dark in these areas. There were advertis.e.m.e.nts targeted at the homeless. It offered them essentials like food, cigarettes, and alcohol in exchange for organs. All of this I picked up from the pictograms accompanying the ads. Dad found something that resembled a giant plug with a giant cord coming from it. He grabbed it and, after struggling with it for a few moments, a couple of the bodyguards helped him tug the plug out of the socket. Once the plug was out, the city went quiet.

"There," Dad said.

I imagine he thought this would bring about some sort of calm but it was just the opposite. Pandemonium broke out. There were loud explosions. Single gunshots became submachinegun fire. Cars rammed into each other and just kept going. Mobs and riots broke out. Looting ensued. Still, the noises of humans destroying one another and the buildings around them was quieter than the technodrone of the powered city.

"We'd probably better get out of here," Dad said. "G.o.d only knows what will happen if they find out we're the ones who pulled the plug."

We all took off running back down the alley, trying to avoid the main throngs of people. Eventually, we came to a building resembling a giant ship and Dad slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. This is what we had been looking for. He opened the door and we filed in. A pirate-looking man sat in the middle of the floor surrounded by candles. He held a broadsword and an antique pistol, just waiting for someone to break in although his door wasn't locked. He raised the pistol and fired. Another bodyguard went down. Now we were down to four.

"Wait! Wait!" Dad said, waving his hands wildly in front of him. "We're here to book a pa.s.sage."

I almost thought the guy would talk with some sort of trite pirate accent but he just said, "Where do you want to go?" In his voice was the boredom of someone who has been everywhere, always in search of something new and exciting and finding nothing.

"We need to go to the island of the Nefarions," Dad said.

"That can be arranged," he said. "It won't be cheap."

"I didn't figure it would be."

"When would you like to go?" he asked.

"As soon as possible."

"We have a ship leaving in the morning. Is that soon enough?"

"That'll be fine," Dad said.

"How many people?"

"Just two?"

"Two." I wasn't sure if this man could see the bodyguards either. I would have thought I was crazy if it wasn't for all the physical, tangible things they had done for us.

"Very well," the man said. "It's all set."

"How much?" Dad asked.

"How much do you have?"

Dad dug into his pockets and handed the man what amounted to about twenty dollars.

"Not enough," the man said.

The bodyguards stepped forward and rained money down onto the man.

"I think that'll be just fine. You'll board just over the hill outside the city. Do you have a place to stay this evening?"

"We can't stay here," Dad said.

"Of course not. Why would you want to? On top of the hill there is a large tree. Under that tree is a small shack equipped with beds and covers. You're welcome to stay there. If there's someone inside just tell them to get out. You may have to fight them."

"Thank you," Dad said.

We exited the building and began making our way to the other side of the city. Since everything was so large, we had a lot further to walk than we had thought at first. A bodyguard got in front of me and crouched down. I hopped on his back. Dad did the same even though he couldn't see that he was hopping onto a back. The bodyguards moved at a gallop and we reached the edge of the city just as the power came back. It was like a continuous shriek of feedback. A guard stood at the gates and tried to charge us for leaving. He was dressed in a much shabbier uniform than the first guard. His looked like it had been pulled from the trash. Dad punched him in the stomach and the gates opened. Astride our bodyguards, we made our way to the hill with the really big tree at the top of it.

Twenty-seven.

Through the balmy night, we eventually reached the shack. One of the four remaining bodyguards threw open the door to reveal two beds on the floor. A very hairy man slept in each bed. Two bodyguards went to each bed, bending down and gruffly shaking each of the bearded men. The men sprung up from the bed, surprised, quickly glancing around the semi-darkened interior of the shack. Thinking they were in some kind of trouble, they quickly rushed for the front door, my father and I standing aside to let them pa.s.s. Dad looked at me and clunked his plank arm against his forehead. This was a new habit he had developed ever since his arm had changed. It seemed to imply that he was thinking of something.

"Tired?" he asked.

"A little. But I'm kind of afraid to sleep."

"We should probably try. We'll have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

The shack had four windows. A bodyguard stood in front of each window, their backs to us, looking out at the night. I sat the flame by the bed on the left and lay down.

"This could be a lot worse," I said.

"Indeed," Dad said.

He lay down also, placing his hand behind his head and letting the plank clunk out onto the floor.

"So we might actually make it there tomorrow, huh?" I asked.

"Looks like it."

"I think we're doing the right thing."

"I hope so."

"Even if we don't find Mom or Grandpa, I still think we're doing the right thing."

"I guess."

"You don't think so?"

"I just feel like, if we don't come away with at least one of them, it will all have been in vain. I just want to get home. I feel like I've lost all my disguises. I've peeled away... years from my life and now I want to get on with how things are supposed to be."

"That makes sense. But think about it... Especially after leaving Home City... Think about how pure the Nefarions' culture must be. They live on an island they wouldn't leave if they didn't have to f.u.c.k with things in our world and all they really had was this flame. That was all they needed to keep them happy. That was all they needed to stay on the island. We're not like that. Look at the people in Home City. They needed constant entertainment..."

"Yeah, most of them don't even sleep anymore."

"And, you know, when they get tired of that city, they're going to go somewhere else, probably some harmless inoffensive small town, and rape that until it suits the corporations' needs."

"There's no escaping that though, David. It's capitalism. That's the way things work. They have to work that way to support our lifestyle."

"But what about the people who don't want that lifestyle? I mean, is there no choice in capitalism?"

"Well, you can choose to boycott the stores. You can choose to do a lot of things. You can buy some land and live in a shack in the woods but you're still going to be paying taxes and everything else that keeps the society thriving. Whether you want to or not. Whether you even should or not. You don't really have a choice, I guess. So you might as well just sit back and enjoy it. I don't think it's changing any time soon and, quite honestly, you've never experienced anything else. You'd probably hate it. It seems pretty romantic and fantastic to draw away from all of that but, given the opportunity, I'm guessing you would run screaming home after less than a month."

"Maybe you're right."

"For as much as you long for this purity, it simply doesn't exist anymore. There really isn't any part of this world that hasn't somehow been sullied and dragged, kicking and screaming, from the past. It could be a lot worse. You'll probably be dead before every place is like Home City."

"Jeez. I think I hope so."

"So, I mean, there's no reason to feel like a criminal just because we have the flame. That's just how things worked out. If I would have realized the far reaching implications of it a long time ago, I would have worked on returning it. I mean, I would have put a little more effort into it."

"Then we might not be here now."

"True."

The lights from Home City were so bright they even illuminated the inside of the shack. I lay there and looked up at the ceiling. It was comforting, knowing that we were surrounded by bodyguards. I had always slept with the fear that someone could invade my room on any night and I would just never wake up. Eventually, I heard the deep rhythmic breathing of Dad, now fast asleep. I had a tougher time of it. There was something I was thinking about doing but I wouldn't really know until we made it to the island. This filled me with a kind of anxiety. It was like trying to go to sleep on the last night of summer vacation, the antic.i.p.ation of the first day of school turning into a racing series of what ifs. Even this far away, I could hear the sounds coming from the city. They never stopped. Like at home, by the time you went to bed, there wasn't a sound to be heard. At dawn, the air around you became filled with airplanes and chirping birds, distant trains maybe. But the city was on a twenty-four hour clock. There were enough people to fill every hour of the day. There was something depressing and exhausting about it.

My body and eyes unable to stay awake any longer, I finally drifted off.

When I woke up, all the bodyguards were dead. Luckily, both Dad and I were unharmed. What was the meaning of that? Was it just a warning? Maybe the Nefarions wanted to slowly strip away the bodyguards so when we finally came upon the island nothing stood between us. I no longer felt so secure.

Dad still slept soundly. I rose from my mattress, walked over to his and kicked it roughly. Startled, he woke up. Then he sat up and said, "Well, I guess it's time to go."

"We have to make sure we make the ship's departure."

I didn't have a watch and he didn't have a watch and there weren't any clocks in the shed so we had no idea what time it was. He stood up and straightened his clothes, tugged his mustache into shape with his good hand. I fluffed my beard with my hands. It was heavy and scratchy. My hands came away greasy.

We left the shed. The two vagrants who occupied it last night were waiting outside the door.

"Have you guys been waiting out here all night?" I asked.

They both hooted and the one on my left punched the other one on the shoulder. He held his shoulder and made a whimpering sound. I figured conversation was probably useless. We took off walking down the other side of the hill, leaving most of what we had known before behind.

Twenty-eight.

It seemed to be just after dawn. The air was still damp and there was a chill to it. The hill was filled with tall green gra.s.s and I could see, in the distance, where the hill dropped away to the ocean. The sun rose behind us. We were heading west. Did that mean we were in California, Oregon, Washington? I doubted it. At this point, it would have seemed almost too mundane.

I held the flame tucked securely under my arm. The dew-slicked gra.s.s dampened the bottom of my pants, cold on my bare feet. Part of me wanted this to be over. Part of me wanted to be back in the home that didn't exist anymore. But another part of me wished it could continue forever. It seemed so odd to go from months of lying around, napping and brooding, to spending days filled with travel and adventure... the unknown. Nearly every second had become filled with the unknown. And while much of it proved to be dangerous, treacherous, it was a danger I welcomed. I didn't know if I wanted a sedate normal life anymore. Maybe I was cut out for some sort of adventure after all. Maybe I could go into anthropology or something when I got back home. No. I knew I wouldn't do that. That would mean years of sitting around in a cla.s.sroom, listening to some professor whose best years of his life were well behind him. I had already tried that and it didn't work. The military definitely wasn't for me. I would have to think about it. If there was one thing I was always sure to have plenty of, it was time. My previous, adventureless life had prepared me for that.

As we drew closer to the water, I saw the giant ship waiting for us. I hadn't really known what to expect. Maybe something like a luxury cruise liner or a small yacht-type thing. This was like an old-style pirate ship. Huge masts adorned its mostly wooden structure. I had never been on a boat like this before. Actually, I had never been on anything other than a cabin cruiser, puttering along the Ohio River, and the only time I'd ever seen a ship like this was in the movies. This could be exciting. Exciting and terrifying. We were going to board this wooden structure and it was going to drag us out into the ocean. I didn't even know if the ocean in front was the Pacific or the fabled Malefic Ocean. Perhaps I would be able to ask someone.

At the edge of the cliff was a wooden staircase that would take us down to sea level. From our distance, I expected to see the ship swarming with crew members. It must take a lot of manpower to operate a vessel of that size.

"Are you ready?" Dad asked.

"As I'll ever be," I said.

"Once we get on that ship, there's no turning back. You understand that?"