Something of Value

The worst part of going to the city was the suit. The mask was hot, heavy, and claustrophobic. It cut off the outside world through filters and polarized glass. Even sound was muffled by the headgear that kept the seal tight. The only thing you could hear clearly while wearing it was the unnerving white noise of the life support hissing through the tubes. It was ironic that the system keeping you alive was so unsettling until you learned how to tune it out.

There were better suits out there if you could find one. If you were born under the domes, or could buy your way in, you might even be able to afford one. Everyone else had to settle for the mask that whispered in your ear and the itchy suit that chaffed in all the wrong places.

Still, going to the city had some perks.

Standing on a hill at the base of a long-faded sign, the troupe of scavengers took in the sight of the city’s remains. Towers of glass, steel, and concrete rose from the sea covered in strange overgrowth. They could never really tell how healthy those plants were – color didn’t quite make it through the masks – but they managed to get everywhere one way or another. The elders had called these places the urban jungles. Now, shimmering like gemstones in the sunlight, it was probably wilder than ever before.

Disrupting the constant hiss, the foreman’s gravelly voice buzzed from earbuds rebuilt more often than anyone could count. “We’ve got a promising one today,” he announced, “an old high-rise that looked almost completely untouched on the drone recon.”

Standing in front of the group, the foreman’s suit wasn’t much better than the rest. His bulky frame tested the limits of “one size fits all” and the suit had been patched and modified often over the years. His mask was customized to be a little more comfortable and a little less annoying. He never quite made it to the domes, but he’d thrived on the outside. Because of that, his voice commanded respect.

“We’re splitting up into teams of two,” he continued. “There aren’t any signs of ferals in the building, but it’s best not to be alone. Lily and Rain will take the first five floors above sea level. Songbird and Breeze will take the next. I’ll take the five after that with Cat. Sun, you and Sky are doing the descent.”

They didn’t have the equipment to stay for long. Breaking it up into pieces made sense. Each team would gather what they could, anything of value, then drop it carefully down the stairwells and elevator shafts the old world left behind. If they were efficient, they could fill the raft and trade for produce from the old man with the grow room he conveniently built before the fall. With a few good finds, maybe they could trade for some tomatoes, corn, and that special herb the elders liked to burn.

“Sir,” a young, strong voice said across the crackling connection, “can I have a word on a private channel?”

Sky knew immediately what was happening as Sun and the foreman went private. The descent was a necessary job but was also the worst assignment you could get. That team would climb ahead of the rest with the heaviest bags, fetch the drone off the roof, then go from the top floor down. They’d mark rooms of interest for the ascending teams, set up drop cables in the shafts, and scout potential problems. They had to move faster than everyone else and usually came away the most exhausted. It was the job you either assigned to your best, because they could make everything run smoother, or your worst, because setting up a cable didn’t require a whole lot of talent. Sun was every bit the shining example of his namesake: he was athletic, smart, and had a keen eye for valuable scrap. Someday he would buy his way into the domes.

Sun did not want to be paired with Sky.

After a few tense moments, body language communicating the argument to the rest of the crew, Sun relented and picked up the bags. Nothing else was said for the short raft trip across the water. Only a few words were exchanged as they breached the windows. Everything remained in tense silence until Sun’s annoyed voice crackled across the personal channel halfway up stairs.

“I don’t get why you volunteer anymore,” he muttered bitterly.

“It’s a living,” Sky replied almost jovially. “It was either this or sewage treatment.”

Shaking his head, Sun asked pointedly, “How many times is this?”

Adjusting the bags to free up a hand, Sky kept track on his fingers as he did the math in his head. “I’d say about a hundred trips.”

Sun turned to look back at the fool behind him, the mask only barely containing his disdain. “Have you ever found anything of value?” he asked.

Sky shrugged. “I get copper wire.”

Sun groaned and jogged upstairs, powered by sheer frustration. “Everyone gets copper wire,” he cried out, “it’s literally coming out of the walls!”

Sky almost felt bad for the guy. Sun was never happy to get the job, a burden he felt landed on his shoulders a bit too often, but it had to be worse with the “dead weight”. Sky was never going to the domes. He’d salvaged just enough to excuse his place on the team but never quite enough to impress anybody. He knew all the theories too. Some figured he was stupid, others lazy. His personal favorite was Rain’s theory about accidentally crossing a burial ground and getting cursed by the spirits of the ancients. Watching him storm up the stairs, Sky was almost tempted to ask which one Sun believed.

Sun’s aggressive pace was tamed by the climb. It wasn’t the worst they’d ever had, but it was never pleasant with the descent gear. They didn’t really get breaks and had to climb the highest while carrying the weight of a small child on their back. As he reached the door, he barely mustered the energy to push it open and instead just leaned into it so his weight could do most of the work. The light from outside burst in and poured down through the stairwell, practically welcoming Sky to the roof.

The view from the rooftop was always better than the hill. From there, Sky could see so much more, like the small natural gardens on the rooftops and the way the currents swirled around the long-abandoned buildings. He always wondered what it was like without the mask. More than once he’d considered taking it off for even a moment to see what the world really looked like. He knew it wasn’t a good idea, but it was hard not to imagine as he stood watch over the serene setting stretched out before him.

Quietly, he mused, “Look at that view.”

Sun stepped up to the edge and looked over the old ruins. “All I see is the scraps we’re left with on the outside.”

“I don’t know,” Sky said fondly, “I’m sure the domes are nice, but you have to live by their rules.”

“I’d rather live by their rules than raid old tombs. There’s nothing of value out here.”

Sky looked over at his cranky companion and patted his shoulder gently. “How about you take a break? I’ll start the top floor.”

Shaking his head and walking away, Sun just muttered, “Whatever.”

Taking a moment to set the first cable in the stairwell, Sky started scouting the top floor. After enough ruins, he started to recognize patterns of what they used to be. The doors all had numbers and locks, several still locked after countless decades. The light fixtures were meant for a cozier aesthetic, not really all that practical for anywhere official. The doors were too far apart to be a hotel, though, so he had to figure it was an apartment building. Testing one of the locks, he kicked the old wood door open with relative ease and found proof of his theory.

The apartment was incredibly run down. Wood furniture was rotting away, fixtures corroded by the constant sea breeze, and paint chipping off of the walls from the intense humidity. Others would have walked by, but it was perfect for Sky. Feeling the walls to find a soft spot, he rammed his elbow through old drywall and exposed wires in the usual places. They were still intact, the plastic sheathes covering them from the elements and likely preventing corrosion.

“Hah, copper,” he said cheerfully, moving on to what he figured to be the bedroom.

The bedroom wasn’t much better off. Everything was in tatters, window smashed long ago and letting the elements inside. Still, the furniture had a style he recognized, a hint of something he’d learned to keep an eye out for. Scouring the room, he soon uncovered an old wood box and opened it carefully. Inside, he found a small gold locket in the shape of a heart. Cracking it open, the old photo inside was long gone.

Running his thumb across its surface, he knew it could go for a good trade. Gold was useful, it resisted corrosion and could be used in electronics. In the domes, people even kept it just because it was shiny.

“Find something?” Sun asked, apparently finished with his break.

Quietly slipping the locket into his bag, Sky looked back and shook his head. “Afraid not,” he said, “better luck next time.”

Sun shook his head and walked out, Sky following soon after. As he left the door, Sky reached over and applied a reflective sticker to the frame.

“You’re seriously marking that junk heap?” Sun asked.

Shrugging, Sky replied, “I think it might have some hidden treasures.”

Frustrated again, Sun walked on with a grumble. “Whatever.”

Sky couldn’t tell him why he had the hunch, not without revealing the locket in his bag. The jewelry box proved there might be valuables. But, for now, he’d just play stupid.

The salvage went well, well enough for them to get a good trade, but Sky walked away with little to show for it once again. The group didn’t say much about it, though Sun continued to complain most of the way home. At the very least, they always had someone to set the cables and walk up the stairs. But Sky didn’t mind, he knew the truth. As they returned to their tomb-like bunkers, seeing the faces of the elders below, he didn’t feel any shame for his apparent failure. Finally free of the mask, he would even smile for them.

The elders had named his generation after the things they missed of the old world. Most of them couldn’t leave the shelters, none of them were allowed in the domes – deemed useless unless they had something to offer. Even with a good suit, the elderly just couldn’t prove their worth. It was too hot, the equipment was too heavy, and there wasn’t really anywhere to go unless you could do some hard labor. So, they were trapped in the old bunkers, living vicariously through the scavengers sent beyond the doors, staring at lifeless grey walls in small, cramped rooms that weren’t meant to be lived in for longer than a year or two.

Wandering down the narrow corridors and into one of those tiny rooms, Sky was greeted with the sight of walls covered in old trinkets and memorabilia. Sitting in a chair made of driftwood, an old woman rocked gently as she listened to music off an old device pieced together from scrap.

“Hey Nana,” he greeted her.

The grey old face lit up as she turned his way, smiling broadly. “Ah, Sky, sweetheart. How’d your trip go?”

“Not bad.”

“Did you find anything valuable?”

Plucking the locket from his bag, Sky reached over and hung it around his grandmother's neck.

“Always.”