The Elementalists

Chapter 13

Rai

From a distance, Arenya sure looks Futurist. You can see the glorious royal blue of the Futurist flags a mile away, decking every lamppost, bench, street sign. . . It almost looks, if I really really squint, like I could be going home.

At least, from a distance. 

'Wow, what is this place?' I drop down from Henry's back and land in a cloud of dust, waiting for Kass and Sammi to stagger after me into Arenya's town centre. It's heaving, everyone bustling around the busy market; I sniff the air, tapping Henry in excitement. 'Look, buddy, check it out! I can smell food!'

'Is that all you care about?'

Kass is scowling at me; for a moment I feel chastised. But then my belly rumbles and all thoughts of shame vanish.

'Ah, stop being so grumpy.' I laugh. 'Come on, let's explore.'

I'm quickly disappointed—but I mean, I don't know what I expected. Arenya is nothing like Singavere, for all it clearly supports FUTURE; I should have known. Of course, it isn't. Nowhere is like Singavere. Nowhere else has an internal climate, or AI vendors, or drone domes. And whilst the Arenyans don't seem to dress quite as grungy as Kass does, I'm not expecting the thin, flowing veils that they're wearing, the men and women alike.

But I totally got why. Arenya is infested with flies.

'Ugh.' I wrinkle my nose when we reach the food stalls; fewer than a dozen chunks of meat are lazing in the heat of the day, coated in a seamless, shifting layer of flies. Squirming and buzzing as they crawl over each other. The hum alone is maddening. 'That's disgusting.'

'Haven't you ever seen flies before?' Sammi asks me, batting a swarm away from her face.

'They must be attracted to the food,' Kass says flatly. 'Why are they keeping raw meat out in the sun like this? It's asking for disease.'

I follow his gaze to the Arenyans, who are scurrying around stuffing item after item into baskets hidden under their shawls. As we continue our way through, I notice something else that's odd: we haven't seen a single house. Or pod, I suppose—people outside Singavere live in pods, don't they. Where the heck do these people live? All I can see is is this sprawling, bug-infested market.

'They really need refrigeration. . .' I muse, more to myself than anything. Unfortunately, Kass overhears.

'God, you're such a snob.' He's pulled his cloak back on, hood raised, to combat the flies, but now sweat's flooding down his forehead. 'How the heck would they afford refrigeration? Imagine how expensive it would be in this heat—they probably need everything fresh.'

'Oh.' This place is such a disappointment. 'I guess I just assumed . . . it's so Futurist. . .'

'Yeah, well, my village supported FUTURE and we weren't rich. Although,' he concedes. 'We did have a fridge. Just not always enough power to work it.'

I glance at Kass. Not only is this the first thing he's said to me that isn't snarky, but it's also the first time he's mentioned his home in front of me. Sammi reaches over and squeezes his hand; something stirs in my chest and I shake my head. Just in case it was going to be painful. You know.

'Really?' I ask, as Henry perches on my head. 'I thought you hated Futurists.'

'I do. But I didn't used to.'