Leaving his house early the next morning, Zan made his way through the usual pipes and tunnels of his local neighbourhood. He was on a mission to find the parts his da needed, and he would make things right by helping him with the repairs. The pained look in his da's eyes last night still ate away at him, but he knew they would have a good time fixing tech together. They always did.

Jumping between the walls of a narrow alleyway, Zan dropped down and looked over the edge of the platform. Dozens of huts, stalls and cylindrical units ran down the street below him, with a huge crowd of people moving between the shops. Gas lanterns hung along the length of the giant pipe that housed the market, here where the sun deflectors around the city didn't reach. The different ranges of talk, hustling and laughter reached him like a low roar, mixed with the constant hums of machinery.

Zan dropped down and made his way through the crowds, nodding hello's to a few familiar faces. Most people were dressed in the usual haggard, knitted cardigans or heavy jumpers, some with obvious holes or dark patches, like the smears on their faces. The older folk were all bent and crooked, and Zan wondered if it was from all the years of wearing heavy layers. But then that was the life up here in the cold Pipelands, the forgotten part of the city.

Perhaps it was the crowd, but something didn't feel right for Zan, to walk through them. He would much prefer to soar or swing over them all. Walking was just so slow.

He stopped by a fruit and vegetable stall and was reminded of the strawberries he brought back yesterday. They were another thing that would make his da feel better.

"Hey, Zan, over here," a voice called out.

Zan turned and found a familiar face breaking through the crowd.

Priya beamed at him, flashing her large teeth. She gave a small wave, shuffling over in her awkward, cute manner.

"Heya, Priya," Zan said. "How goes it?"

She curled her long hair behind her ears, smoothing the rough edges down. "Good, good. What you up to?"

"Looking for some parts for my da. You?"

"Just hanging out with Marcin and the others," she said. "Wanna say hi?"

Zan hesitated. He considered Marcin a friend – or atleast he used to when they were younger – but Herrik had never approved of Zan hanging out with street kids. Zan never knew what the problem was, they were good kids, they just happened to live on the streets. Up here in the Pipelands, everyone was the same, and everyone looked out for each other.

"Sure," Zan said, nodding for Priya to lead the way. A quick chat, then he'd get the parts he needed.

He followed her through the crowds. When they became separated, Priya reached back and took Zan's hand, quickly looking ahead as she reddened.

They found the others on the far end of the market, sitting on a stack of crates and barrels, looking out through a glassless window cut into the pipe. Somewhere nearby a large generator thrummed.

"Well if it isn't the Grid Runner," Marcin said, nodding to him. He was the same age as Zan, but his heavyset frame and bulky round shoulders made him look older. Zan guessed he'd found some hair gel recently, as his dark hair was shaped up into short spikes.

"Heyas, chief," Zan said. He nodded to the other kids.

Wes smiled and gave him a big nod, shaking his heavy blonde curls.

Gosaline hopped down and bounced over to him. "Long time, other big bro." She was only fourteen, but her small frame made her look about ten. Despite her meagre appearance, her bright red hair matched the fire in her.

Zan pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Good to see you again, Gos."

"My favourite big brother," Gosaline said, making a face at Marcin.

Marcin held a hand to his chest, looking hurt. "Ooh that stings. You can have her if you like, Zan."

"Nah that's all right," Zan said. "I'll leave the big brother duties to the real deal."

"Hey," Gosaline said, pushing Zan away playfully.

Across the street, on the other side of the pipe, a large woman approached a man looking out the window. Wiping her hands on a dirty towel, she looked out and shook her head.

"Would you look at that," the woman said disapprovingly. "Gather, you sheep, your god calls you."

Wes hopped off the crate and jogged over to them, soon followed by Gosaline. Marcin kept his position at the highest point of the crates, looking indifferent.

"Sends a shiver right through me, it does," the woman added.

Priya gestured and nudged Zan along. They went to the large window and could hear a loud, smooth voice that echoed over the city below. All the giant projector screens were on, filled with a man's face. His square face was lined with age, piercing grey-blue eyes enthralling all who watched. The Mayor's messages were not for those up in the Pipelands, and neither was his rule, but that didn't stop them from watching and hearing.

He read out a list of city updates and ongoing developments, as well as spouting reminders of the etiquette he expected of his citizens, and of the laws of the city. He fell short of reminding them what his penalties were, but implied that it was in everyone's best interests to follow his ways.

"I thank the sky every day we don't have to listen to that drivel," the large woman said, shaking her head.

"Right," the man said. "But then the alternative is to live how we do."

"And what's so wrong with that?"

"Look," Wes said excitedly, with equal parts surprise and fear. He pointed to a walkway between the short buildings below, where several armoured soldiers patrolled. Their blue and white armour contrasted against the dusty browns and cold greys of the mid-level.

Gosaline gasped. "Whoa. Eclipse Guards."

The woman shook her head, ringing her hands in the towel. "Why the Mayor needs em is beyond me."

"If he didn't," the man said, "the whole city would be like us. Living day to day, trying to survive on what we have."

The woman frowned spectacularly. "You been listening to his so-called motivational announcements too much. You listen to me, you hear, we don't need to live under his rule. We're the luckier ones, up here. They might have all the money and all the food way down on the ground floor, but at what price? When they look up, it's us they see."

"Right," the man said. "Who needs food and money, and security. I tell you, if I could, I'd be down there with them, and give the Mayor a firm handshake if I could."

"Good luck with that. Ain't nobody seen him in years, I hear. For all we know those are just old recorded tapes they play over and over. If you ask me, I don't even think they have a bleedin Mayor. Probably just a bunch of suites makin it up as they go along."

"I don't believe that. Not for a second."

"Well believe this." She pointed a large thumb over her shoulder. "You see the new family who moved in on the west side? City folk." She said it like she was cursing. "Must've royally pissed someone off down there, from the sounds of it. They had no place else to go but up here. You should see the looks on their miserable faces. But they'll get used to the grit and grime, they all do."

The man's eyes were wide. "I didn't think anyone came up here. That's what they got prisons and that for down there. Thought we was pretty much forgotten about."

"Well we're definitely that," the woman said.

Priya had inched closer to Zan, so that their shoulders were touching. He wondered why she was so close. She turned to him with her brows raised and furrowed. Her full lips were parted with unspoken fears.

"She's partly right," Zan said quietly. "We're better off up here."

Priya's smile reshaped her face. She nodded, staring at him. "It's good to see you, Zan. We don't get a chance to see you much anymore."

"I know. I been helping my da a lot lately."

"How's he doing?"

Zan shrugged, turning her away from the bickering adults. Wes and Gosaline continued to stare out the window in awe. Marcin continued to look like he was watching over everyone.

"He's fine," Zan said. "He's just... he hasn't been the same, for a long while."

"Since your ma..."

"Since my ma. Yeah. Even though it's been ten years now. He has his good days sometimes. I help out when I can. But sometimes I feel more like a burden."

She gripped his arm. "He loves you, so much. You know that. You're his whole world. You're never a burden to him. You have a gift, with the machines, and you should use it."

At first Zan didn't know how to react to her sincerity, aside from an inappropriate joke, but then he found himself lost in her shiny dark eyes. For a moment he felt like his fears and worries had left him. The low humming of generators and shaky gears filled the silence between them. He gave her a weak smile, but suddenly felt guilty for complaining about his da. Priya had never known her parents. She grew up with a foster ma, until the old woman died and left her alone, fending for herself on the streets.

"Thanks, Priya," he said. He wanted to tell her that she always knew how to make him feel better, but then she might give him one of those strange, drawn-out looks she sometimes gave him. The ones that made him feel both uncomfortable and at peace.

"Zan," she said softly.

Thundering mechanisms clicked and rang out across the street, echoing through the city. Darkness fell on them in an instant as generators and motors wound down, slowly drawling to a low, eventual stop. Gears came to a juddering stop, engines died, machinery cutting out all around them. The lights over the market dropped to battery-powered low embers, casting the street in an eerie, murky glow. Hundreds of voices called out, yelling, screaming, a burst of chaotic babble as the market folk scattered.

Zan and Priya's eyes met though the gloom. He remained frozen for a long moment – everyone who wasn't running and screaming just stood in dumb shock – and then he took Priya's arm, ushering her to the window. Wes and Gosaline rushed to them.

"Priya!" Gosaline cried out, hugging her.

"Wh-what happened? What's going on?" Wes asked urgently.

"I don't know," Zan said. "Let's take a look."

"It's everywhere," Wes said as they stepped to the window.

It wouldn't be everywhere, Zan thought. Probably just a glitch up here.

The view out the window had changed drastically. Darkness showed all around, metal glinting in the low light and revealing the rough shape of the city they knew so well. Masses of dull smears moved below, people rushing about in hordes. Street lamps were on in many places, surviving on back-up batteries, but for the most part the world was a dim grey and black.

It was everywhere. The whole city was dead. Zan's chest tightened, his breath leaving him.

A whining pitch cut through the air, and they turned to see a large ship falling through the sky. The heavy drone crashed into the side of a building in a brilliant, blinding explosion, tearing apart the platform beneath it. Huge chunks of the building and drone broke apart, crashing down into a lower level with a shower of dust and billowing smoke. The crumbling debris echoed through the silent city before dying, leaving a severely quiet air.

"Let's get out of here," Marcin said, coming to them. "Come on, guys. We should meet up with the others."

"Zan," Priya said. The word sounded like a plea.

"Go," he said soothingly. "I'll be fine."

His da. He was out there, all alone in the dark.

Zan nodded to Marcin, handing Priya to him. Marcin gave him a reassuring look, and Zan sprinted away.

(2064 words)