《Parhelion: Stories from Another World》


 The Tower

    There exists a Place that eats children.


    It is a tower, a pillar, a place that doesn¡¯t exist - at least, not in the sense of being, but as in no one ever talked about it. Publically, it was almost never mentioned.


    As a child, I truly knew nothing about it. When my elder sister vanished, I had only been four. It happened quite suddenly; one day, she was smiling and playing blocks with me, the next, her room was emptied out and redone into a study room. When I asked about it, my parents only stiffly smiled and stated ¡°she went away¡±.


    I never suspected anything. I mean, it wasn¡¯t just because my parents didn¡¯t seem to make an effort to hide it. There was the Calls where my sister would periodically show up in 3D in the Living Room, dressed up all unnaturally neat and polished, helped dissuade me from noticing anything out of the ordinary, too. Think back, there probably couldn¡¯t be anyone in this god forsaken scrapping colony that could look like that. At least, not on our floor.


    I didn¡¯t really think too much about it, I had just gotten into reading net novels around then. After my sister was gone, there was no real other way to consume time outside of homework. I thought, maybe, I could be a writer. Just once, though.


    I learned the beginning of the truth in my 12th year. At that point, I was still pretty unaware in all aspects. There were tons of clues before then, of course, but I wasn¡¯t bright enough to piece them together, so I can only honestly admit that I started suspecting pretty late.


    Being at that age, I went to the Center for my required full body diagnosis. Normally the wait at the Center isn¡¯t too long, but on that day, appeared a little bump in the normally tightly rigid system. Reading the latest update of a net novel, I only really noticed when things got real intense. Besieged by two Nurses and a security pod, a person frantically kept yelling at the medical personnel. What do you mean she tested positive?! Give me back my child! You can¡¯t do something like this! I won¡¯t let you do this! I won¡¯t let you people take her to the tower!


    The always gentle expression on one of the two Nurses stiffened. I think at this point she had enough. It was the only time I saw a Nurse use their strength on a person before. In the blink of an eye, the person went from enraged screaming to struggling, restrained like a specimen on the floor.


    I couldn¡¯t keep watching, though. So that was all. A buzz on my wrist broke my focus, telling me it was time for my appointment. Throughout the whole day of tests, my mind went over the scene. I mean, there wasn¡¯t much to do to begin with, during the diagnosis tests. I was just supposed to lay there while a couple of pods whizzed around scanning and taking samples like I was some newly discovered asteroid field getting ready to be harvested.


    The way the colony is set up, there aren¡¯t any towers. People lived in little honeycomb-like units, marked off by district and floor. The whole colony was a kind of long cylinder shape with several orbiting external rings for the mining equipment and space-gears. There¡¯s even a few rig docks, for starships incoming and outgoing. But honestly, I had never heard of a tower before.


    It took the whole checkup for me to realize, the tower was most probably the Central Pillar.


    Compared to the somewhat crummy look of the 47th district urban zone on the 56th floor, the Central Pillar was always smooth and polished. Like the billboard displays of products no one has the money for. Like the News People who gave filtered daily reports on what¡¯s going on with the intergalactic Union. Like the virtual 3D projection of my sister.


    As a completely out of place existence, it was cloaked in a never ending stream of urban legends and rumors.


    What goes in, never comes out.


    Until then, I never thought about those rumors. To begin with, the Pillar had no entrance or exit. It¡¯s completely smooth, with no pits or renovation scars. I only considered it as the possibly mentioned tower due to these very same rumors.


    However, after coming back home I cast it aside mentally. I didn¡¯t consider understanding the Tower as that important. It didn¡¯t appear again, either, until after some of my other classmates had their appointments too.


    One day, the girl sitting next to me never showed up. Instead, the seat now belonged to the boy from one desk over. When the instructor called our names for roll call, her name wasn¡¯t on the list. Our class count went from 27 to 26.


    The only person that seemed remotely disturbed was the girl who was pretty tight with my ex-neighbor. Throughout the day, her expression of gradually increasing confusion cumulated, until she could no longer bear it and blurted out her question near the end of class.


    Where did Cynthia go?


    The Instructor lowered his pointer slightly, turning his head around halfway. Away.


    What do you mean away? She wouldn¡¯t do something like that without telling me! Why is everyone treating her like she doesn¡¯t exist anymore?!


    I had a strange feeling of deja vu. The Instructor only spoke one line before returning back to the class material, as if the girl¡¯s frantic concern was no different from a toddler¡¯s tantrum.


    See me after class.


    After that day, the girl stopped coming to class, too. This time, no one said anything.


    Our class count fell to 25.


    As time passed, I stopped thinking that much about the Tower. The Calls with my sister became less and less frequent, and on some days, my parents seemed to forget that they ever had a second child.


    I too, forgot.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    After Basic Schooling, I went into Specialized Schooling. In my family, I was the first. My mother was a food distribution manager while my father worked as a transport pilot. No one had ever gone past Basic.


    I soon graduated with a certification in biotech engineering, working in cybernetics. My new home was a unit the suburban zone of the 19th district on the 92nd floor; although a distance away from my old home, it was larger and nicer. Here, the Tower didn¡¯t seem out of place.


    Rather, probably calling the Tower the most Important Thing would be the most accurate.


    Unlike the crowded 56th floor, the ground around it was clear. It stood out starkly, piercing the artificial sky like a needle. The ceiling of the 92nd floor is several times higher than that of the 56th floor. Logistically, it makes no sense; but in my time living here, I soon found that most things on the 92nd floor make little sense.


    For example, compared to the hushed erasure of children, when an older coworker of mine had her son taken by the Tower, she threw a work party. Everyone around her was congratulating her good luck. It seemed, parents receive benefits when their children are chosen by the Tower.


    I spent the rest of my workday in my office.


    The next time when the Tower appeared, happened in front of me.


    Three days after the work party, I was called in by The Management. The Fourth Assistant Manager revealed that I was to transfer to a new team, effective immediately. The team operated in a different zone and was residential.


    I had no idea at the time what that meant. Orders from above couldn¡¯t be rejected nor questioned. I vacated my workplace right after, taking with me what I wanted to keep. The rest would be cleaned out and tossed into the Recycler before the start of the next work day. It seemed like someone else was already lined up to take over my old space.


    Like how my classmate vanished those years ago, I¡¯m sure I did the same at my workplace.


    All of the belongings that I cared about could be fit within a small suitcase. On the dawn of the next day, a suspension unit arrived at the door of my living unit, waiting patiently for me to get in. Taking one last look at the place I barely had the chance to call home for a little over a year, I clambered in.


    The suspension unit started up quietly, moving slowly before speeding up at a gradual rate. Almost identical scenery zipped passed like an animation on loop, until the buildings became more and more sparse and the sky became lighter and lighter.


    When the unit finally stopped, the terrain surrounding the area had long become flat and featureless. The dawning sky cast a rosy light onto the ground. I had never seen such a scene outside of virtual reality, and never thought I would see it in reality. For the sake of efficiency and space, the lower levels are usually crammed to suffocation with all kinds of buildings like a beehive. Space, is a luxury.


    Stepping out, my heels made a clear click against the surface. In front of me was the ever imposing form of the Tower.


    Up close, the Tower felt like a massive wall that stretched itself into the sky. A gate that I had never seen before opened in front of me like a giant, toothless maw. My only sense of security came from the small security pod that hovered over the entrance.


    It seemed, my fate with the Tower didn¡¯t allow me to escape it in the end.


    Thus came the day where I was Eaten too.


    ---


    The first year in the Tower was uneventful. So was the second. The third too.


    For the first few years I worked in the Biomechanical Zone. It wasn¡¯t until my fourth that my clearance had gained enough rank to allow the system to relocate me to somewhere better. So they say.


    I adjusted relatively quickly to my new life. There were quite a lot of Restrictions. I wasn¡¯t allowed outside, although I could call my parents three times a year. Calls and any other contact with the outside was heavily monitored by Overseer personnel. Honestly, to call it a cage would not be farfetched.


    In my fourth year, I met Cynthia again. Well, what was left of her, at least. She was with her friend, which was pretty heartwarming. Though I couldn¡¯t say much about their conditions. The two of them floated in the large tank, asleep they said, with their eyes open. If it were not for the monitor next to them showing their biometrics in real time, I really would have thought they were dead. The two didn¡¯t look a day over twelve.


    There were a lot of sights like these in the Incubation Zone. The Supervisor complimented me after we were done circling the block, saying I was the first to not bolt to the bathroom after the first time around.


    Hey, isn¡¯t that looking down on me a little too much?


    In my fourth year, I was relocated to the Incubation Zone. Instead of working on cybernetic implants, my skill was used on a greater purpose, so they say. Not that one could say making human-weapons was really that great.


    In my sixth year, I was rewarded greatly and promoted once again. Apparently, the military was very taken to my research report.


    In my seventh year, I was relocated to to the Garden.


    There, it was slightly different than the other two that I had access to before. Here...ah. It was a bit much, even to someone like me.


    You couldn¡¯t even call the test subjects there human anymore. But, I think at least they were probably a lot more human than the adults that worked in the Tower. The Tower workers were monsters wearing human skins.


    I felt that it was probably around then that I realized the Tower couldn¡¯t last. The Tower didn¡¯t seem to think so either, but the human Overseers thought otherwise, which was probably why it started talking to me.


    ¡ºThey brought something strange in¡», it told me one day.


    I had been working in my private lab when the Voice filtered in. My fingers stopped, for a moment. The blinker on the screen also paused, stopping my report in mid word for a second.


    ¡ºThe Supervisor is outside.¡»


    This time, I didn¡¯t pause. It wasn¡¯t until the door slid open that I saved my work and looked up. The Supervisor was waiting in the door, the expression on their face always the same neutral mask.


    This time I was taken to the Experimental Zone. Other high clearance workers had already gathered there, waiting in a patient herd as Overseers bustled around the Strange Object.


    It was shaped like a coffin, the kind carried by the gears of some of the neighboring federations. This one didn¡¯t look like any known models though, which would make sense why the workers seemed so excited.


    I walked closer, peering into the large structure. A sense of premonition, like deja vu, except also not, washed over me.


    Ah, the End has come.


    A person was encased within, partially fused with the material. The scanners around the structure showed that the person was still alive. When looking in, I could have sworn I saw the person¡¯s eyes flicker.


    They¡¯ve been sedated.


    I could understand now why the Manager was so excited and why the Tower felt apprehension. Compared to this, what we were fiddling around in the Tower was nothing more than child¡¯s play.


    From that day on, the Coffin was moved to a Special Zone. I, however, had not been selected to be on the research team involved with it, so I never saw it again.


    Thus, I passed the final years in relative peace and quiet.


    ---


    It was sudden, the Event. Like all disastrous things. Since its creation, the Tower met its first and final crisis.


    In the face of utter destruction, the stability of the scraping colony collapsed in an instant. The only thing that remained relatively unscathed was the ever smooth and shiny Tower. But even then, it was simply an egg ready to be cracked open. Though each civilian wore an emergency protective suit, those caught in the blast had no need for it.


    Over the years, the Management of the Tower grew too heavy and greedy. They touched something they were not supposed to, and now that the Disaster appeared over their heads, they were abandoned.


    The Management activated the defensive system, but that wasn¡¯t enough. That Disaster wasn¡¯t something a handful of refined corpses could deal with - at most, the system was simple cannon fodder, sent to buy enough time for escape. I thought, for a moment, that I saw my Elder Sister¡¯s face among them though.


    I sat, alone, in the empty laboratory zone, watching the events unfold in the virtual display. All of the other personnel within the Tower had been evacuated to a safe area, probably getting ready to take off in emergency ships. Honestly, I don¡¯t really find their chances of success being that high, though. Even if the Disaster outside didn¡¯t fry them, the Highest Echelon in the Union wouldn¡¯t allow them to live. They know too much.


    People in power don¡¯t really like leaving their dirty laundry out in the open.


    ¡ºAre you not going to leave?¡»A Voice filtered through the display. It was the Tower.


    I shook my head. Ever since my fate became tied to the Tower, I found myself obligated to at least stay with it until the very end. In my years in the Tower, I had seen too much, climbed too high. At least for my peace of mind and those eaten by the Tower, this is the best result.


    The Place that eats children, no longer exists.

 Farewell

    Grandmother¡¯s passing came suddenly.


    Before Xiao Yulan could comprehend, she had long been left behind. Watching the video of the funeral afar, the only things that remained were her grandmother¡¯s ashes and a curious sense of disembodied rationality. Like an astronomer glancing at a planet far away, Yulan felt millions of light years away from reality.


    In a moment, she thought, she would wake up and everything would be just like before.


    Alone, Yulan stared at the sterile ceiling, waiting patiently for the heavy numbness that had swallowed her heart to recede. This stifling room that housed her since birth never felt more constricting. Far away...she must go somewhere far away...The world held no place for her...


    ¡°Patient stress level has reached a critical point. Miss Yulan, please relax as we administer sedatives..¡±


    The robotic voice was light and musical - a little high and childish, but hit a degree of noise that seemed to hold a calming effect to the listener. It¡¯s little round body rolled over, circular ears twitching like a cat. The constant dim blue light of the great machine that loomed over her like a strange guardian brightened as it followed protocol. Soon, Yulan began to feel her body relax.


    The robotic voice said something else after, but her mind had already drifted away in a buzz - no longer cognizant of the world.


    For a period, this scene cycled, looped like a video played again and again on repeat.


    It wasn¡¯t until the passage of her 12th birthday that human interference released her from her stupor.


    Behind the glass partition, the government social worker was a garish splash of blood against the pristine white of the hospital room. Her arms were crossed as she sat on a chair across from the patient bed; only a small continual tick of her leg giving any indication of her impatience. Next to her, the resident nurse remotely operated the machine with a skillful and familiar hand, inputting the counter procedure for the sedative in the patient¡¯s system.


    In the eyes of the social worker, Yulan seemed little more than a porcelain doll - thin, fragile, and motionless. The girl was quite tragic, really, but once one removed her from her special condition and environment, she was just another dime a dozen case.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    After a period of time, the girl¡¯s eyelids began to flutter. The social worker fidgeted with the paperwork in her hands as the nurse quietly explained the situation to the girl through the intercom. When the nurse was done, the social worker put on a customer service smile.


    ¡°Hello, I¡¯m from the local city government. You can just call me []. I¡¯m here to notify you that your grandmother¡¯s request for your early access virtual ID has been approved by the court.¡± The social worker opened the folder in front of her and pulled out a single, translucent card. She handed it to the nurse. ¡°I am also here to notify you of your grandmother¡¯s final will. She left behind a sizable sum of money that will be dedicated to your hospital fees. This should give you enough leeway until the age of 18. There, you can apply for further support from the government.¡°


    Silence.


    The social worker looked up, peering at the motionless girl. Dark eyes peered muddily at the ceiling, as if she heard not a single word. Mild annoyance surfaced on the face of the woman and she continued abruptly, standing up from the chair. ¡°I will hand over the paperwork to your registered nurse, you can take the time to browse through them as per necessary. If you will excuse me, I will be on my way.¡±


    It was long after the social worker left that Yulan called for the nurse. Numbly, she grasped the access card and final will of her grandmother, the artifacts smelling of antiseptic and a faint foreign perfume. Under supervision, Yulan entered the access pod next to her bed.


    The first thing that went in was the memory chip that served as her grandmother¡¯s will. There was quite a lot on there, mainly videos and photos of the two of them, as well as some documents of importance¡­


    ...and a single video letter.


    Yulan stared at it for a while, something akin to trepidation and a hollow sense of loss. Then, without word, she hit play.


    The pod around her lit up, the access panel minimizing as the display opened up the VR system. In front of Yulan stood a mature and regal woman, still youthful despite an age that had long breached her 50s. The woman smiled at her, a perfect replica of life.


    Something hot stung her eyes and Yulan found the figure in front of her blurring. When she lifted her hands to her face, she felt that it was wet. However, the person remained motionless, unlike how she would be in life. Her gentle grandmother...had long left this world.


    Waiting patiently, the woman stayed silent, until Yulan finally recomposed herself. Then, she spoke softly, her familiar voice warm.


    ¡°Ah Lan, by the time you see this, I most likely already left this world.


    ¡°It is likely that I wished for more time...I wanted, at the very least, to see your illness cured. To take you to all the places you couldn¡¯t go...But time is cold and life is cruel. If there is a place beyond our mortal bodies, then I hope that I can watch you blossom from afar¡­.


    ¡°For you see, life is precious. I hope that when you see this, you will no longer grieve as much over me. You, who fought since birth for the breath of life, are a warrior. A star that shines brightly in the darkness of space. No matter how harsh the world may be, may you please live. Live for yourself and see the world that I couldn¡¯t show you. Grasp freedom wherever it may be and live to the fullest!


    ¡°My dear granddaughter, my starlight...Ah Lan, farewell¡­¡±


    Time passed like water, the same pattern of lights playing against the semi transparent hood again and again. By the time the robot assistant retrieved Yulan from the pod, the tears on her face had long run dry.