Chapter 4 Tantrums

  A day later I’m facepalming at the end of a long line at Sojourn’s exit. Packing shouldn’t be difficult. Everything seemed fine last night.

  But today is a new day. A worse day. My little brother, Oakley Wong, will be the death of me. Or at least my patience.

  We were finally getting to leave Sojourn. It would be Lee’s first landfall! But instead of excitement or nervous energy from a nine-year-old, I’m dealing with Lee’s latest temper tantrum.

  “Lee, I got your toothbrush, extra toilet paper, your favorite teddy bear, and Auntie’s cookies in my bag. What could I have possibly forgotten?” It’s not like we hadn’t unpacked everything and checked it over again. Twice.

  Lee only fidgets when stressed or angry. Doctor Vogel thinks he may have issues understanding social cues, and the Triad can’t finalize a diagnosis with their spotty medical records. Who knows if any of the fallout and chemicals from the Old World War may still be around causing genetic abnormalities? The original Holos were programmed to clean after the Old World War, and they did for a decade or so, but they never finished the job. I don’t really care about any speculations.

  No matter what condition or behaviors he exhibits, Lee’s my brother. He focuses on things. Obsesses really. Simple as that. Just as obviously, he drives everyone nuts. He can’t, or won’t, allow anyone but me to work with him. I’m hoping he’ll change his mind in time. Before I strangle him.

  Lee yells, “If I could remember what I forgot, it wouldn’t be a big deal! Look through it again!” Lee is practically screaming at this point. Youthful faces turn to watch this exchange with morbid curiosity. The teenagers in line are clearly uncomfortable and try to herd their younger charges toward the final check out before landfall.

  We were in the middle of the foraging party line when Lee’s anxiety got the best of him. Which made it difficult for kids to pass us. There’s no way we’ll be able to claim a foraging job if we leave the line.

  I sense the little kids growing tense as our exchange continues, and of course the teenagers are irritated with my brother starting to get screechy. Nine-year-old lungs can put on quite a performance.

  I sigh, unbuckle the hip and chest straps from Dad’s old hiking backpack, and throw the thing on the ground in frustration. “Carefully!” Lee shrieks.

  “I’ll check the bag after we move out of everyone’s way, okay?” Lee stamps his foot. I frown at him. He hates it when I do that since it reminds him of Dad’s seldom used disappointed face. I wish I had half of Dad’s patience right now. This frown might become my normal resting face after today. Lee drags the large backpack off to the side, but not too close to the railing. We wouldn’t want anything falling into the seawater below. I decide not to help Lee drag our luggage away and instead inhale the salty air deeply. Trying to calm down before I freak out on Lee.

  When we find a good spot to sit without our feet hanging off the bridge connecting the floating habitats, I slowly take out each item from the old hiking backpack. The foraging party is going to make a longer trip inland this time around since resources are growing scarce along the coasts. Picked clean or swept by storms. It’s also why we are making do with Dad’s old pack. It’s older than I am, yet it features enough carrying capacity to fit me comfortably inside it. It carries all our bedding and necessities. I’m hoping Lee will find what he’s looking for in his bag. Or we’ll be stuck here until evening.

  Oakley has his own smaller backpack filled with a few things to keep his spirits up as well as supplies which will keep him alive for several days including food and water along with a small medical kit and a special foil sleeping bag. It’s an ancient children’s pack from the Old World War covered in stickers and patches we found on a shipwreck a few years back. Honestly, I think it’s more patch than original material. This will be Lee’s first trip out of Sojourn’s dome into the outside world. A world filled with Holos.

  Thankfully, Holos never attack kids. Unless they’re Malos. I’m willing to risk Malos over Sojourn’s scenery after thirty days stuck looking at the same digital sky. Blessed freedom awaits outside the packed habitats, boats, and floating farms of Sojourn! As I help Lee unpack his extra foodstuffs and emergency beacons, I can’t help but dwell on our tenuous lives.

  The floating city, or fleet, of Sojourn is protected by an outer dome which absorbs all outgoing and incoming electromagnetic frequencies, including light. It is the only thing protecting the adults from the Holos outside. If anything happens to the miraculous material, you can say goodbye to anyone eighteen or older. Or anyone with facial hair. Or other obvious signs of puberty. Looking young is the hot trend these days. I grudgingly admit being short could save my life. But looks matter less than the Holo.

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  We’ve had some reports of Holos doing their best to avoid adults, like birds flying away at any human speech. Almost like the Holos don’t want to take life if they can help it. The Malos, they seem to revel in their kills. They have one obvious sign, a red outline. Red is dead. They will go out of their way to kill kids. The best way to protect yourself is to observe the environment. You’ll find signs of Malos by the trophies they keep or weird territorial signs like claw marks on house doors. Even if those doors are made of iron. Without Sojourn’s dome our little civilization would die without any hope for knowledge to grow and spread, ripped apart by programmed killers.

  Sojourn’s inner dome is a separate structure which houses a living space for adults and projects artificial light as close to sunlight as we can make it. You won’t get a sunburn sitting in here, but the false sky provides a sense of time and life to the humans living inside and copies sunlight well enough to nurture hydroponic crops. The lack of waves in the water shows we are at anchor. A gentle rest for the moving city. An occasion heralding trade with the few remaining settlements we can find. When we can find them.

  Fewer remain every year. Sites we’ve visited multiple times are sometimes found ransacked by raiders or left as graves when infrastructure or hope gave out. Those hurt. Maybe we could have helped if we had returned just a little sooner. But each time I’m reminded of the people we did reach. The ones we helped along the way as we crawled to the next tragedy. They had needed us too.

  As morbid as it is, fewer people means we can send parties of kids out foraging without too much worry we’re taking someone else’s supplies. Weirdly, food isn’t the main issue thanks to the Holos. Their original programming was to nurture farmland and remove harmful chemicals after all. It’s the crumbling shelters and a lack of growing populations to support hidden adults that’s killing humanity.

  I sigh as I finish searching.

  I had completely unpacked my bag too. Lee insisted.

  Yet the look on Lee’s face shows something is still missing.

  “How about you check your bag again and I’ll pack this one back up?” I ask. Lee sticks his whole head in the empty bag, but clearly doesn’t find what he wants. Lee grumbles but sits down and gets to work on his own backpack. Again.

  I watch the synthetic light sparkle on the water as Lee upends his bag. He rifles through the messy pile of notebooks scavenged from foraging parties like the one we were going on, turns over a few mechanical pencils and counts each one, pauses briefly when touching the seaweed wrapped sweets Mom had packed for his first night away, yet his brow continues pinching in frustration.

  I balance my head on my left hand as I lean forward. I ponder Dad’s other project. He’s trying to work out a system of mirrors under the water to reflect natural sunlight into Sojourn. He thought it may decrease energy consumption and allow us to power the city more effectively. I think Mom’s right that it won’t work. But we work with what we’ve got. And giant mirrors aren’t doing any good in storage. Some parents will probably complain if their kids are tasked with installing the mirrors underwater. They hate their kids going out into the ‘dangerous’ ocean water to farm it or fish. I’ve seen those same parents cheerfully send their kids into the ‘safer’ crumbling moldy buildings on the mainland to search for ancient luxuries. Like books, computers, and furniture! Mostly for Sojourn’s benefit of course.

  I hear my brother mumbling “Think, think, think…” beside me. I decide to pack my stuff back into the hiking backpack. “That’s it!” I hear Oakley exclaim. I zip up my bag. Oakley grabs my arm, yanking me off balance, and starts pulling me towards home. “Silly me, of course I forgot it!”

  “Lee—” I quietly respond to him yanking on my arm as I struggle to strap on the heavy backpack and not fall over the rail.

  “I always leave it on my desk, so I won’t lose it!”

  “Oakley.” I say more forcefully as my brother and physics wrestle to see who can pull my arm out of its socket first. I am very tempted to throw him in the water with a judo technique. Dad made me promise not to use it on Oakley before he taught it to me. Pretty sure he didn’t think Lee would be hurting me when he made me promise. Still, if Dad had his way, we wouldn’t be leaving Sojourn at all. This time he couldn’t stop the Council from sending all available adolescents. Even the troublesome ones.

  “You know how hard I’ve been working on my game, Gēgē! I can’t believe I forgot to pack my latest notes! Stupid!” Lee shakes his head wryly. Still pulling my arm. Painfully.

  “Oakley Wong!” I shout, “Enough!” He stops pulling me and slowly turns his head to look back at me. He gives me his ‘what did I do’ face. For like the fifth time today. Ugh. “Oakley, I need to tell the gatekeepers that we’ll be late. We won’t have any time to explore around our campsite if we head back home. Do you still want to go back?”

  Oakley nods immediately. Not one second of hesitation. I sigh. Great, we’ll be stuck camping around the ink hub. “Okay, go back home and grab your—”

  “My third Terra Tamers design journal!”

  Of course it was his latest design journal. It’s not like the other two weren’t already in his bag. “Lee, are you really sure you want to bring—”

  “Of course! You never know when a great idea will strike!” My brother nods sagely. “This is my first time outside Sojourn. I bet it’ll be an adventure which will generate lots of cool ideas!”

  “Yeah, camping by the ink hub will be a real adventure,” I say sarcastically.

  “Yeah! Meet you at the gate!” My brother runs off as I’m left with not one but two backpacks to carry to the checkout line. I pull the backpacks on, Oakley’s lighter one on my irritated shoulder, while I try to ignore my protesting arm. Time to sign up for the only job left. The boring one.