Chapter 1: https://giants-markcheverton.com/the-algae-voices-of-azule-chapter-1/ 

The Algae Voices of Azule

Chapter 2

 

“Ali, come on, we gotta get out of here!” Billy yelled in her ear.

By now, the rage had subsided, and Ali realized the foolishness of what she had done. She started to shake.

“Come on!” Billy yelled again.

He grabbed his sister and pulled her down the alley just as the security forces were starting to stand and gather their weapons. Looking back over her shoulder as he ran, Billy saw Mr. Dirac taking advantage of the situation as he started to run off down the street, causing clouds of smoke to materialize amidst the soldiers, hoping to add to the confusion. Billy smiled. I hope he gets away, he thought then he began focusing on his and his sister’s escape.

“Come on, to the docks,” Billy guided as he ran.

“Yeah, the docks,” Ali agreed.

The docks for Azule City serviced the massive algae harvesting industry. It was a labyrinth of warehouses, storage buildings, narrow passageways and twisting alleyways. They knew the docks better than anyone. For many hours they’d waited for their father’s harvesters to come back in from the sea or go to see him off on another trip to the algae fields, and the twins had taken advantage of that time. They’d explored every inch of the docks, exploring every building, every passageway, and, of course, every hiding place. When they were out of school, Billy and Ali would go there to play, explore new places or find new adventures. There was something about the docks, something about the smell and the feel of the place that seemed peaceful, clean, and safe. That’s what they needed right now—someplace safe.

The twins ran with all their speed, taking small streets that were likely to be free of security forces. If they ran into a patrol right now, they were dead, or worse, but they knew the back streets and alleyways better than any security patrol, they’d be OK, well, that was the thought that Billy was sending to his sister anyway. He hoped it was true.

Turning down the twisting, narrow streets, they sprinted toward their goal. Billy led them to the marketplace first. It was a narrow street filled with merchant carts and stalls; the people of Azule City trying to sell their wares. Today was a busy day, a Friday…payday. People always flocked to the market on payday; their chance to get something special, a small treat for themselves. Billy knew it would be busy, with hundreds of people packed in the narrow space.

Weaving between adult bodies, Billy and Ali snaked their way between the people, without disturbing the press of bodies in a way only a child can do. Shooting between a man and wife, curling past a heavy-set fruit seller, the twins shot through the crowd, choosing the path only a child could navigate. Diving under a crystal merchant’s cart, they squirmed underneath then bolted toward the algae cake seller. The smell made Billy hungry, which was his usual state, but right now, fear ruled his mind. Running past, Ali gave the brakes on the wheels of the cart the slightest nudge with her Gift, starting it rolling.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized to the merchant whom they sped past.

The algae cake merchant looked at Ali with a puzzled look, as she sped past, not noticing that his cart was slowly rolling down the street toward the approaching squad of soldiers.

Running onward, the twins passed the old bookseller, Bookman, as he was called. He had a cart stacked with books from Old Earth. Billy gave the stacks a shove with his Gift, causing the books to tumble to the ground. People nearby helped to pick them up, thus the volunteers added to the obstacle. Billy smiled.

They could hear a commotion behind them, the sounds of boots on concrete. Billy could hear the occasional sound of soldiers having to crash through vendor stands mixed with the angry shouts of the owners, but the sounds of their pursuit were growing more distant. The press of bodies and the commotion they were causing was lengthening their lead, but the fear they both felt did not seem to lessen. They drove onward, terror powering their legs.

“To the warehouse,” Billy shouted to his sister, she nodded acquiescence.

The two reached the docks in a few minutes. The smell of the salt air and the pungent aroma of algae filled their senses. They could almost taste it; the smells permeating everything. They ran past robots moving large crates of algae; past harvester crews just landing. They could see fresh crews just arriving on the hover busses, their faces looking excited at the prospect of a profitable run in the fields. They didn’t slow down to answer any of the questions lobbed in their direction, “What are you kids doing?”, “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”, “What are you two doing here?” Billy and Ali just ignored them all and continued to run.

Quickly they reached their destination—the warehouse district. It was a maze of large buildings filled with crates of all sizes. This was the storage facility for the algae harvesting industry, as well as storage from the nearby spaceport. Billy ran to the warehouse he and Ali played in often—number 42—the answer to everything their brother had told them once. They never really got the joke. They ran through the large double doors, dodging a freight-pot, which held a large crate of engine parts, then headed for the back of the warehouse. Climbing up a mountain of dusty crates, the twins snaked their way between boxes and crates, climbing higher and higher, until they were near the ceiling, far in the back corner of the structure. This was their safe haven, their fortress of solitude—a hollow chamber between multiple crates, with a small opening through which they could wriggle to gain access. A small glow globe hovered in the corner. It snapped on when it sensed their movement, filling the space with a dull yellow light. A thick blanket covered the floor of their little hidey-hole in crate-land. It was dusty and dirty, with a musty odor that smelled like old socks, but it felt comforting to the twins; they knew they were safe there, at least for the moment. They’d found the blanket in the warehouse a year back, and figured no one would miss it—no one had. They had other discoveries hung on the walls of their hideout: miscellaneous crystals, holograms of themselves and their family, a spinning thing from an anti-gravity generator, an old crystal-powered flashlight…gadgets and trinkets found in musty corners, under cracked floorboards and trophies from their many adventures. Well, the trophy of today’s adventure would not go up on their wall. Today’s trophy was fear.

Billy and Ali huddled in the corner of their hidey-hole, pressing next to each other and listening. They strained their ears for the sounds of pursuit, but dared not use their Gifts to enhance their hearing; the Inquisitor would surely sense them, and they’d be caught. In their hole, surrounded by old and forgotten crates, they felt safe, but they had nowhere to run.

Ali reached up to the glow globe and pressed the switch to turn it off. They were instantly engulfed in darkness.

“Hey,” Billy said softly. They’d never discussed it, but Billy was afraid of the dark. They didn’t need to discuss it, Ali knew, with her Gift.

“Sorry, but we don’t want the light to give away our position,” she whispered. “It’ll be ok, just close your eyes and it’ll be like you’re asleep. You aren’t afraid when you’re asleep, are you?”

“Well…no,” he answered hesitantly. “It’s kinda weird, I’m afraid when I’m awake, but I don’t even think about it when I’m asleep. It’s still dark when I’m sleeping.”

“Maybe you think you’re afraid of the dark, but you really aren’t,” she replied in a soft voice.

“Yea, maybe,” Billy agreed softly, “but if …”

A sound echoed through the warehouse, cutting off Billy in mid-sentence. It was the sounds of boots—lots of them, accompanied by the sound of angry voices. Billy moved to the opening of their hidey-hole to listen. He couldn’t see anything; the path to their hole was a maze of twists and turns, which completely blocked any view to the ground below.

“We’ll never find anything in all these crates,” said an angry voice below. “We’ll need dogs.”

“We ain’t got any cave-dogs with us,” said another voice.

“You’re the dogs,” said a deep voice, angrier than the rest, the voice of command. “Get up there and look for them!”

“Yes sir,” multiple voices said.

Billy looked back at Ali in the darkness. Light from Pateras seeped in through small gaps between the crates, giving the faintest hint of a yellow light in their crate-lined refuge. He could barely make out her face. She looked scared, they both were.

What if they find us?

Billy reached out and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled. She was going to say something, but Billy put a finger to her mouth, shushing her; their most effective weapon right now was darkness and silence.

And then they heard it, boots on crates.

They both turned their heads toward the opening of their hidey-hole. The soldiers were climbing up on top of the crates, looking for them.

“All of you, get up there!” the commander said. “Look around and make sure they’re not there before we move on.”

There were some grumbles, but then more boots started climbing crates. Billy and Ali could hear the creaking of wood straining under the weight of full-grown men. The wood had never creaked when they came up here, but they were only ten, and small for their age. With the soldiers, the old crates complained with creaking screeches of wood under strain. The farther back into the warehouse, the more the wood creaked; the oldest crates being near the back.

Thump, thump, creak …

Billy turned to the left toward the sound. There were soldiers on one side of them.

Thump, creak, creak …

They were on the right side, as well. Billy turned toward the new sound, Ali already staring in that direction, her body started to shake. They were coming in on two sides.

CRASH

“Aaaaah!” one soldier screamed. A crate had broken underneath him; the soldier had likely fallen into a mass of old, rotting algae. “Someone help me, someone help me!” He pleaded.

Soldiers ran to his aid. The twins could hear grunts of effort and the shuffling of feet, as they pulled their comrade out of the collapsed crate.

“You smell like fish now, Simmons,” mocked one soldier.

“He always did,” joked another.

“Shut up and find those kids!” snapped the commander.

The soldier continued their search. Ali and Billy could hear the soldiers continue to climb the mount of crates, trying to gain access to those at the back of the warehouse, moving closer and closer to their hideout.

More creaking to their left.

Things seemed to slow as Billy counted the time between creaks with heartbeats. He was terrified, the image of being captured by these brutes already being played and replayed in his mind.

A hushed voice gave advice as to where to step off to the right…creak.

Ali’s face looked pale in the dim lighting of their hidey-hole; tears started to seep from her eyes.

They were getting closer.

Bill could feel Ali’s fear slowly ebbing into panic. He reached out and grasped her hand and held it tight.

Someone coughed directly in front of them.

Billy couldn’t tell how close they were. Now they were all around them. The creaking of strained wood enveloped the twins from all sides, each groaning plank sounding closer than the last, and then …

CRASH

Billy heard another crash of a soldier through a crate, the sounds of cursing following the wooden collapse, and then another… and another.

The soldiers had reached the older crates and the ancient rotten wood just couldn’t bear their weight. Another crashed, the sounds of anguished soldiers mixed with the sounds of scraping boots coming to their aid. Two more crates collapsed then another soldier started to yell out as if seriously hurt.

“Sir, we can’t go any farther,” one of the soldiers admitted, as he strained to help one of his comrades. “The wood up here is totally rotten; nothing could have gotten up here.”

“Fine,” the commander responded, the sound of frustration edging his voice. “Come on back down! We’ll check the next warehouse, and be quick about it. I don’t want to be down here in these smelly warehouses all day.”

The sounds of boots receded away, the creaking of wood got farther away and they heard boots hitting concrete, then their shuffling, as they left the warehouse to go to number 43. Billy and Ali signed and smiled, terror slowly faded away, as a tide of relief gradually ebbed throughout their bodies. For the moment, they were safe.