NYLON - 1

After pushing a few forgotten pieces of metal out of the way, Cody Stratton reaches into the pile of garbage and pulls out what looks like a hard spherical object. He blows some of the dust off, revealing a label that says: ‘Grafton Bouncy-Ball, now with Extra Bounce!’ With a curious twist of his wrist, he inspects all sides of the ball. It’s solid, heavier than he expected—industrial plastic, maybe. Definitely high-class materials that could only be found in Nylon City.

“Hey, Lily! I found this ball that apparently has extra bounce. I wonder what it’s for.”

There’s a silence that stretches for so long that Cody wonders if she got lost or left him behind. But in a few moments, some shuffling is heard and Lilian Carter appears from behind a giant pile of trash. She runs toward him, her expression glowing with excitement. She’s carrying a multitude of items in four or five bags, and her clothes and blonde hair are covered in grime. With her she carries the rusty scent of metal and mildew, like everything else down in the Sub-City. But even through the dirty exterior, her eyes gleam with a sort of dreamy hopefulness that catches Cody by surprise.

Lilian sets down her bags and inspects the Grafton Bouncy-Ball.

“Maybe it’s a weapon. It’d probably pack a punch if I threw it hard. Very aerodynamic.”

While she’s looking at the ball that Cody found, he crouches down and starts looking through her collection. The bags are filled with the strangest, most random objects. An empty bottle of booze, an unwashed plate with food scraps still stuck to it, and more forks and spoons than Cody can count. There’s even some technology, which seems to be the most valuable out of all the ridiculous objects she found. There’s a small glowing screen that seems to be displaying some type of unintelligible message, and a few pieces of broken hardware that could have been part of a computer or similar.

“Lily. What did I say about quality over quantity? The servoids are not going to pay that much for these dirty utensils. You’re just wasting your time.”

Lilian shakes her head and grins. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Cody. On the surface, they may seem like dirty utensils, but within them hides the mysteries of Nylon City!”

“Here we go again . . .”

She snatches the fork from Cody’s hand with a flourish and scrambles up a mound of garbage, the clatter of tumbling metal echoing through the dim chamber. Loose wires and shattered plastic skid down behind her. At the summit, she wobbles, teetering for a breathless second, then plants her feet with defiant grace.

For a moment, silhouetted against a flickering overhead light, she looks like some self-crowned monarch of the wasteland. Like the Queen of the Garbage, Cody thinks to himself, inwardly chuckling at that silly title.

Lilian dramatically raises the fork into the air and begins her tale.

“This fork right here? It was held by one of the richest festives from the planet Gourmandia. He was so rich that for each bite of his food, he would grab another fork and toss the old one away. This right here is one of those legendary forks.”

“Does this Gourmandia really exist?”

“Maybe. I sure hope it does.”

“And you figured this all out by looking at a fork?”

Lilian nods proudly. After she’s done basking in her glory atop the pile of trash, she slowly climbs down. When she touches the floor, Lilian holds up the ball from earlier with bubbly excitement.

“I figured it out, Cody. I think I know what this is for. The ball . . . bounces!”

“So what?”

“It bounces, Cody!”

Cody grabs the ball from her hand and throws it as hard as he can at a wall. They watch it disappear into the darkness. Cody enjoys the look of despair in her face as she wonders if the ball is lost forever. In a few seconds it comes bouncing back, just like it was advertised. Cody grabs it out of the air and turns to Lilian.

“It bounced. Nothing happened.”

“You’re not understanding me,” Lilian says, exasperated, “The point is that it bounces!”

“Okay? How did we benefit from that? We’re still hungry and thirsty and low on credits.”

Lilian quickly wrenches the ball from Cody’s hands.

“Not everything’s about credits, you know.”

Lilian spins the ball in her hand, her eyes lighting up as she continues, “I mean, sure, we’re stuck digging through this trash and metal down here, but up there? Maybe they just bounce stuff. For fun. Can you imagine that? Just bouncing a ball ‘cause you want to, not ‘cause you’re trying to feed yourself?”

She tosses it into the air and lets it fall to the ground, bouncing twice before she grabs it out of the air. “Imagine if we were festives who could just party all day. We’d be like Rylan. I’ll bet he’s having so much fun in Nylon City right now!”

At the mention of that name, a shadow crosses over Cody’s eyes before he quickly masks it. He clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably.

“We’re not festives.”

“Huh?”

“We’re not festives, so I don’t see how this has anything to do with us,” Cody says with finality. He hates when Lilian talks about Nylon City like it’s some dreamy paradise. As far as Cody knows, it’s just noise, neon, and empty luxury: a cesspool of wasteful partying that leaves tons of garbage for the normal folk to dig through to even survive.

Let them keep their bouncy balls and glittering lights.

But he doesn’t say that. He never does. He doesn’t want to interrupt her joyous fantasy, not when people like her are in such short supply.

Suddenly, Lilian’s voice rings through the musty, stuffy air. He didn’t even notice her run off, but she did. And now she’s calling out to him.

“Holy crap, Cody. Look at what I found! It might sell for a lot!”

Cody quickly gets up and walks over to Lilian. She’s holding something, and as Cody gets closer, he observes a gold amulet engraved with a regal lion. She looks up at him excitedly.

“I think this is a good catch. We might even get a few hundred credits with this, Cody! We can finally get that fluffy jacket you wanted to buy from Old Benson.”

Cody quickly denies the offer. “It’s fine. I didn’t even want it that bad. Since you’re the one who found it, you should keep the credits.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I know you’re imagining that fluff right now.”

As they start to leave, Cody looks behind him at the dump. His entire life depends on the sustenance from scavenging in the garbage dumps, so this daily exploration with Lilian is nothing new. It’s a fairly large enclosed concrete room filled with heaps of garbage. Various tubes form openings in the ceiling with the purpose of dropping trash into the room. In the corridor leading out of the room, Cody spots a faded, but barely legible label on the wall: ‘Garbage Disposal Section A-12’.

“C’mon, Cody. What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” he says, then turns his attention back to walking with Lilian. Before long, they pass by three other people going in the opposite direction. Cody is immediately on guard and watches them closely as they get closer. He’s not going to take any risks, especially with the good haul he and Lilian had just gotten.

At the front is a girl with short messy hair, and behind her are two younger kids, presumably siblings. The two kids shy away from Lilian and Cody and hide behind their sister. Cody realizes they’re probably not up to anything after reading their body language. He decides to ignore them, but Lilian has other plans.

“Scavenging?” Lilian asks them brightly.

A girl at the front of the trio responds with a guarded, jaded tone, “Yes. What about it?”

“I’d be careful. The servoids are probably going to clear it out soon,” Lilian replies helpfully, with no trace of malice or rudeness. The group of three seem a bit surprised at her statement, as if the kindness in her voice was unexpected. Cody sees this happen a lot, and wonders if Lilian is just too naive to realize people are naturally suspicious in the Sub-City.

After they fail to respond, Lilian throws them a thumbs up and then motions for Cody to keep moving.

“C’mon, Cody. You’re too slow.”

“Says the one who isn’t holding any bags.”

The ceiling of the tunnel drips rust water, and above that—miles of concrete, steel, and secrets—Nylon City glimmers brilliantly. Cody would never want to go there voluntarily. He hates everything about Nylon City, particularly what it represents: a tower of gold built on the suffering of those beneath it.

“You didn’t forget how to get back to the Patch, right?” asks Cody.

“Please. I could find my way there blindfolded.”

“Alright, alright. Just checking.”

As they’re walking through the tunnels, they pass by other people every once in a while—other Sub-City residents. They all look so worn-out and dejected, but it’s nothing new. Cody sees this almost every day. The Sub-City is just a holding pen for the defeated.

Thankfully, some parts of the Sub-City are a little nicer: namely, the Patch.

“We’re back, everyone!” Lilian announces, skipping ahead into the huge clearing up ahead. Exhausted from carrying the bags, Cody shuffles in and looks around at the Patch. It’s a large chamber, many times larger than the garbage dump they were just at. Near the sides are many small makeshift homes patched together with old signage, rusted beams, and fabric scraps. Like their residents, the little houses are barely holding up, but still functional. There’s a few people out and about, but most everyone is probably in their house or tent.

He spots some familiar faces emerging from the patchwork homes. They walk out into the open, where theres old machinery and boxes scattered about, lit up by flickering overhead lights. Marilyn steps out of her home with her two boys rushing out to greet Lilian. From a low tent nearby, Old Benson shuffles into the light, leaning on a crooked metal beam for balance.

“Need help?” Cody asks. Old Benson shakes his head.

“Your hands looking mighty busy. I won’t bother,” he says in a low, gravelly voice.

Cody reaches in and takes out a spoon. “Want this? Lilian found a ton of these utensils today. It’s all going to get traded off to the servoids anyway, so might as well take a few. I won’t even charge you anything.”

“Nay. I’ll just eat with my hands. Let me see the full haul.”

“Go ahead.”

Cody finds a box nearby for Old Benson to sit on as he sifts through the bag. As he looks up, he sees Marilyn coming over alone. She’s a beautiful woman, wearing a dress that looks like it was made from lots of different fabrics combined, but the design still looks pretty good. Her face, weathered by motherhood, still glimmers with a flicker of whimsy.

“I see Benson’s digging through your junk again,” she comments. “I wonder when he’s going to realize there can’t be anything of value in a garbage dump.”

“Quiet, woman. I’m focusing.”

Marilyn chuckles and turns to Cody.

“How was the scavenging today? Found any books?”

Cody shakes his head. Marilyn sighs, and turns to look at her sons playing with Lilian in the open space in the middle of the Patch. How she still has energy to keep up with the boys, Cody will never know.

“I’ll just get Gil and Tommy to reread some of the stuff we already have. But please be on the lookout for anything with writing. I don’t want the boys to grow up illiterate like their dad.”

“There were a lot of books at the sector we came from, but it’s pretty dangerous there now.”

Marilyn’s voice was steady, but her eyes flickered with worry. “I’ll figure something out. Worst comes to worst, you and Lilian could write something for them, right?”

“I’d be glad to.”

Life in the Patch isn’t perfect—more survival of the clingiest than anything—but it has its own strange sense of family. And that’s something Cody clings to, especially in a place as bleak as the Sub-City. As he thinks this, a few lights flicker overhead, as if to warn that their artificial daylight could be smothered at any moment.

Lilian and the boys rush over excitedly.

“What are you guys talking about?” Lilian asks. Gil and Tommy just stand next to her looking up and them expectantly. If he remembers correctly, Gil is seven, and Tommy is eight. He replies to Lilian.

“We were discussing Gil and Tommy’s educational situation. Next time we scavenge we should be on the lookout for books.”

“Oh. Did you try asking the other scavengers?” Lilian asks, turning to their mother.

Marilyn replies, “They’re not nearly as cooperative as you two. Most scavengers just go straight to the trading post to get the credits.”

“They’re probably saving up to go to Nylon City,” Cody points out, and at the mention of Nylon, Lilian perks up.

“Just like Rylan did!”

“Speaking of Rylan, any news regarding his Nylon City visit? Gil and Tommy really miss him.”

“Adventure, adventure!” Tommy says, jumping up and down. Gil nods fervently next to him. But as much as they buzz with hope, Cody’s has no good news.

Cody hesitates for a moment on how to reply. “I guess he’s . . . still up there.”

“Of course he is,” Lilian says with a dreamy smile, her gaze drifting upward as if she can already see the city shining above. “I mean, it is the City of Celebration. He’s probably partying away having more fun than we can imagine. Gil, Tommy, did Rylan ever tell you about the sky?”

The word ‘sky’ hangs in the air. Cody had heard it before but never understood. Here, under this low, musty ceiling that traps the Patch like a cage, the sky is a forgotten dream.

“Beyond this ceiling,” Lilian says softly, “there’s a sky. It’s huge—bigger than anything you can imagine.”

Gil asks excitedly, “Bigger than the Patch?”

“Even bigger. Bigger than the whole Sub-City. Maybe ten Sub-Cities.”

Gil’s eyes grow wide. “Really? Ten times?”

Tommy’s jaw drops, mirroring his brother’s amazement.

“And guess what—if you go to Nylon City, which is just right above us, you’ll be able to see it. You’ll see the sky.”

Gil and Tommy stare upward, their young faces frozen in awe. They're picturing the sky as something bright and boundless, a place where dreams live. In their minds, it’s probably blue and soft and endless, a storybook ending just waiting to be found.

Lilian doesn’t speak either. Her eyes are distant now, still fixed on the ceiling as though if she stares hard enough, she might see through it. The glow in her voice is gone, not from doubt, but from yearning. Her silence is the silence of someone who has loved an idea too long, too hard, and is begging to fulfil it however she can.

Cody looks at her, then at the boys. He stays quiet because he doesn’t know how to shatter it—this dream she's passed to them like it’s candy. The silence of someone who doesn’t have the heart to take them away from someone else.

“Holy crap!” Old Benson suddenly shouts, breaking the silence, and everyone turns to him. He’s holding up something in the air—the amulet that Lilian found earlier.

“What’s wrong?” Cody asks, walking up to him. Everyone crowds around him, curious as to what he’s so excited about.

“This . . . this necklace. This amulet,” he says, inspecting the amulet on every side. “I’d seen this design before. Back when I was I was a young buck, visitin’ Nylon.”

“You’ve been to Nylon City? And you’ve never told us?” Lilian asks, betrayal in her voice.

Old Benson harrumphs dismissively. “You never asked.”

“What’s special about the amulet, Benson?” Cody asks. And at that, Old Benson shrugs.

“I ain’t got no idea, boy. I just know it’s got to be important.”

Cody nods and decides it might be time to leave, but Lilian won’t go.

“Benson, please tell us about your time in Nylon City. It’s okay if you don’t remember the whole thing. Just please, tell us anything. I’m tired of fantasizing, I want to know.”

She looks right at Old Benson, and he just stares right back. His expression is unreadable, but he eventually cracks. But his voice when he replies is not excitable and hopeful like Cody expects. It’s somber.

“Nylon City? I guess I have a few words for you.”

Lilian nods, her eyes bright.

“It’s the one place in this damn world that I can’t stand. It’s all fake. Fake as a servoid’s smile. If you ain’t swimmin’ in credits, don’t even think ’bout tryin’ your luck up there. Folks who do? They just crawl back down here, broken and broke. That place ain't built for people like us. Ain’t nobody with a brain would go up there. Only a fool would. And I was one hell of a fool.”

Hearing that, Cody looks at Lilian’s reaction. At first, she doesn’t move. But then her lips part slightly, as if she’s about to speak—and close again just as fast. Her lips tremble as she struggles to find something to say. Cody reaches toward her, gentle and unsure. But she spins on her heel and bolts, her footsteps echoing off the metal like a retreating heartbeat.

He stays frozen for a moment, hand still outstretched. Sometimes, he forgets that beneath all that fire in her heart, she’s still just a fifteen year old girl.

“Sorry about that. I’ll go calm her down.”

Marilyn nods, “And I’ll reprimand this rude old man.”

“Huh? I only speak the truth!”

“You could have said it nicer!”

Cody quickly grabs the bags Lilian left behind and snatches the amulet from Old Benson’s hand.

“Hey! I wanted that, son!”

“It’s not yours,” Cody says with a glare that makes Old Benson waver. He doesn’t wait for more bickering.

Cody throws some bags over his shoulder and takes off down the corridor Lilian vanished into, the dim lights flickering above him like dying stars.