by Chris Mills
“It does look fun.”
“I’d give it a try,” Gabe said. “I’d race down and then come up.”
“You’d be going down quite a ways,” Herald said. “Stick to space if you want to race.” Chuckles rose about. “When we get back, let’s head to my room for a bit. I want to discuss our meeting tomorrow.”
“Are we to keep our mouths shut?” Gabe asked.
“No. It would be to your advantage to prepare on what you may need to say. I hope things go smooth. Councilman Wallace has your best interest. You have other councilmembers to speak to if they are present.”
“Do we have to speak to all of them?” Kim asked.
“No,” Herald said. “They are too busy to all take a break at the same time and deal with this. We could be surprised. When we arrive back, let’s order some drinks and we can sit down and talk.”
“Alcoholic?” Stephen questioned.
“If you have a hangover, you’ll deal with it without a treatment from my help.”
Lights flickered in front of the shoe shop that Andy had been in earlier today. Many of the shops had closed their doors for the night, besides the creamery and a place with yellow squid in the window with a foul smell. The shops outer lights flickered more, like those on the paths. The door flew open as darkness took the area once more.
A faint blue glow lined Herald’s forehead. Darkness kept the figure brief. A set of small horns rested upon the helmet. Andy raised his hands like others did. “You made a mistake to leave tonight,” a distorted, dark voice said. “No more games.”
Andy gulped. The demon known as Hanash approached. Darkness would not let them escape this time. What light managed, gleamed upon his chest and the barrel of his gun.
“I want it now,” Hanash warned. “I’ll shoot without hesitation this time. I have a way out, yours is only if you hand it over. I’d have killed you today if not ordered once more to try this approach. You’re very lucky. My finger is getting itchy.”
“Fine,” Herald said.
“Now,” Hanash said. “Come forward. Keep your hands up. Tell me where it is.” Herald gulped. His whole leg shook from the first step. Hanash pulled him close and pressed the gun to his forehead. “You have three seconds. Speak where it is.”
“It’s -”
“Here,” Stephen said.
Herald hit the ground hard. The gun rose once more and locked on Stephen. His thumb and index finger clung to the very edge of the containment tube. The deadly source inside needed to be out of their hands. Andy hated learning what power it could bring.
“You,” Hanash said, shaking his head. “Once more you’re a pain in my side. Give that to me now.”
“You won’t shoot me,” Stephen said. The tube hovered over the edge. Andy’s eyes widened.
“No,” Hanash said. The tube did not fall. “I’ll shoot her, or him, or him, or,” Andy shook. “Him. I can guess who matters more or I can keep shooting.”
“Give it to him,” Gabe said quick. “Please, Stephen.”
“Here,” Stephen said. He held it out. Hanash brought his gun to his side. His approach was quick. Andy shook. The tube trailed in the air. Hanash race and pushed Stephen aside. His head barely turned. Over his body went, yet a hand held to Stephen and he joined.
Andy rushed to the rail. The two hadn’t fallen that far. A violet flicker came to the blue field the two struggled on. It broke. The two slammed into a platform extended out not far below. The balcony had a sole person on it who darted inside. Stephen managed to land on Hanash. He pushed himself off and struggled at first to stand. He kicked the gun away and his eyes spotted what Andy soon noticed. Stephen fell forward. A hand pulled harder. Crack!
“You’re dead, Jones!” Hanash roared. Stephen kicked the helmet once more and pushed up. His hand came down on the tube. Crash! The whole balcony shook with force below. “How else did you think I’d get out of here?”
Stephen reached, but quickly caught sight of something. He sent the gun flying back farther with a sweep of the leg. Bam! The dark red car screeched along the balcony once more. Hanash had brought his arm around, revealing some sort of screen that projected from his wrist. Shouts rose for help. Andy wanted to jump down there but feared death without being first caught by a field. The car did not have a hood like many Andy had seen. It rose up with more control. A pair of feet were suddenly on the hood. Hanash barely made it on himself before hands took hold of the control wheel. The ship slammed the building hard. Hanash fell into the back seat, smacking his head along the door. The car swerved away and suddenly descended. A helmet rising from the back had Andy’s eyes growing even wider. Down the car went.
“Stephen!” Andy shouted.
Sirens rang in the distance. Andy took Herald by the shoulders and shook him. “What do we do?!” he shouted. Blood seeped down the man’s forehead. His eyes focused on Andy for a moment before he groaned once more. His body swayed. Andy tried to hold him up.
“I think he’s fainted,” Andy said. “Someone, help!”
Sirens grew louder. At any moment, the car would rise from its fall. Stephen would have control and Hanash would be met with gunfire. Andy kept looking. He neared the rail. Many had come too late to see what had come. No car rose. His friend did not shout in victory, nor did Hanash make another comment about death. The car did not come back.
Chapter Sixteen
Horns blared about, screams rose, people pointed, sirens didn’t close, and the car had struck two already. Each hit produced a field that barely protected them. A noticeable sweat began to build upon Stephen’s palm and forehead. He once more struggled with the controls. Hanash’s arm came up again. The car shook hard and Hanash fell back, cursing once more.
“You’ll kill us both!” Hanash roared.
“Then, let me fly!” Stephen barked.
The dash had an interesting wheel of great width that resembled a figure 8 on its side. Stephen could turn it to turn the car or release a lock he found not long after getting in that controlled the pitch. A handle couldn’t engage when he tried to move it. It appeared to be locked in a set speed range for the traffic. The gas at his foot gave him plenty. This wheel didn’t feel like it was made to dive.
Once more the screen of the dash read ‘Remote.’ Stephen mashed the icon yet again. The car swayed to the left before it snapped back. Down they headed again. The damn wheel would lock again. Stephen tried the switch. A red alert flashed, similar to a car back home.
Stephen had hoped that Hanash would have been the only one to go over and be stuck in the field. The landing, after the field broke still, made his chest ache. Herald spoke about these damn fields and look where that had gotten Stephen now.
A flash of red took close. The icon popped up again. Stephen tried to slow. A force lunged them forward. Something appeared on the dash. The cops here could get their attention. Could some cars be remotely shut down? They lunged yet again. Stephen turned hard. A field bounced them closely off the wall. The cruiser slammed hard into a large brown truck.
“They won’t help you,” Hanash said. “I’ll let you go. Stop the car and give me it.”
“No!” Stephen shouted.
“Is it worth your life?!”
“Everything that’s happened is because of it!”
Stephen forced the wheel as hard as he could up. No downward spiral came. Wind whipped hard. Groans came from the back. At this angle, if either of them jumped, they’d be dead. He held to the gas. A small whine suddenly rose from the back.
“You fool!” Hanash bellowed. “You’re pushing it!”
Stephen tried the lever again. Warnings still flashed. A nasty set of horns echoed before them. A true car crash had stalled traffic. Stephen turned. Fields erupted over the building. The car bounced and missed the field Stephen thought would come. Bam! The front section broke. Metal tore with sparks. Hanash cursed. Something was in his hand.
The blade dug into the seat. Hanash pulled himself into the row behind Stephe
n. Oh! Time really went fast. The sounds of sirens faded. Far down in Galat II, the lower city existed on the base of the planet. Light down here only came from that around. When Stephen looked up, it was if it would never end. The ground came closer.
Slash! Stephen groaned. The blade dug father into the seat. Blood seeped from the back of his shoulder. “Stop this!” Hanash began. “No!”
Stephen pulled up what he could. The brake did little for them. He reached about. Damn this. The ground hit. Stephen found something cling to him. The forcefield tried to protect his chest. His head bounced back. Metal tore over the streets. A flame exploded from the front. A force slammed his head as it came forward once more. Stephen’s body went limp.
“Alive, I think,” a raspy voice rose.
“Damn,” someone said. “Check him anyways.”
“He not a corpse yet.”
“Check him!”
The search went fast. “Little piece of metal,” the raspy voice told his friends. “Worthless. Save him?”
“Fines.”
A pair of strong arms pulled Stephen over the jammed door. His body smacked the ground. Sharp pain came to his back as he was dragged. His eyes managed to catch smoke rolling out of the front and rear of the car. The whole front had been ripped apart. Debris followed the car a long way over the torn-up street. It looked like it had already been in bad shape.
Stephen’s head smacked what may have been a sidewalk. Broken glass, cans, trash, and tiny metal scrap littered it. “Help me,” the other demanded. Stephen groaned. His back killed, but not as bad as his head. It felt like someone hit him with a baseball bat.
Stephen managed to sit up. His arms were filthy. He pulled out a piece of scrap that he picked up upon his rescue. He patted his pocket. His rescuer had put it right back.
“Where’s the other?” Stephen managed to ask.
“Dead if he fell,” the raspy one said.
“Isn’t someone coming?”
“Coming?”
“An ambulance?”
“Eh?”
“Medics?”
The two odd fellows laughed. Stephen rubbed his forehead. The two scavenging Hanash’s car worked fast. One held a torch with his weird hands. These men reminded Stephen of stingrays. Their heads spread out and could easily be cut off and float to fool someone. Each were tall and had a hunch to them as they walked. They had greyish skin, and their very fingers had a tentacular look to them.
Fire erupted from the back. The scavengers hopped back and hurried to the sidewalk. A flame took the front. The very ground shook beneath them as the car hopped. Stephen sighed. He doubted he would have been able to fly back up when he saw the ground. Far up, he stared. Traffic moved on the many levels uncaring to the crash.
“They really don’t come down here?” Stephen questioned.
“Sorry luck,” Stephen’s rescuer said and coughed.
“Where’s the police?”
“None here.”
“None at all? No emergency services?”
“Offworlder, aren’t you?” the other questioned.
“Yes,” Stephen said. “I came from the upper city.”
“Joy ride?”
“Attacked,” Stephen said. “Are you sure you saw no one else?” The two shook their head. Lights flickered down the way. An odd orange look came to everything but the shadows.
“My name is Stephen. Can I know yours? I must thank you.”
“Melbsi,” Stephen’s rescuer said.
“Turi,” Melbsi’s partner said. “You crash far.”
“How do I get back up?”
The two laughed. Melbsi’s laugh turned to a cough. He covered his mouth and banged his chest. Each had a pack on their back and were equipped with a torch and tools on their belts. Their eyes met the other. “Come with us,” Turi said. “It grows late.”
“Are you going to help me?”
“This fine salvage. Do you want it back?”
“No. You can have it.”
“Follow us.”
Melbsi pulled Stephen to his feet. The dirt on his legs didn’t come off with a swipe. The two scavengers were already moving fast. The amount of crap in their packs didn’t slow them. Stephen limped at first and soon came to a normal walk. Damn; all the way. How far was it to the top? It was hard to know with how fast he had gone. His mind had swarmed and cared little about the drop till he saw the ground.
Hanash would have Kodon if he had survived. Stephen couldn’t risk that power getting into the wrong hands. He groaned and held his head. “Got help for that,” Turi said.
The undercity felt deserted besides a couple about with packs. Someone could make a living with some things that fell. Stephen would hate to be in the range of anything that dropped. Did people really toss their trash freely? Most of the sidewalks had overhangs it looked to protect. The shops around had cracked windows and were very dark.
“Hurries,” Turi said.
“What happens at dark?” Stephen asked. The scavengers stare at each other and quickened their pace. “Is there any way up?”
“Maybe.”
A long overhang shielded the opening and what waited. Homes and communities down here weren’t in the street. It felt a little similar to what Stephen saw when in a taxi. These large areas inside the buildings held life and shelter. The light above kept to the orange tint. Most of the sky, as one may call it, was dark. It matched the poor kept lighting around. Shadows were everywhere. Stephen swore he saw figures moving about them; small and a large.
Dead and old, a tree rose, one of a handful that may have once been full of life. Homes about had seen better days. None looked good - a couple decent at most. The rest were a mess and close to falling apart. Stephen spotted two that were reduced to rubble. A dump may be a step lower than this. He kicked aside some trash, getting more grime on his shoes.
“Here,” Turi said.
If Stephen’s father saw a place like this, he’d be giving warning. The home was made of metal, like most here. The walls were broken in sections, dark sheets of metal covered the windows and served as patches, the roof looked not far from caving, and the whole place leaned.
Turi tapped the panel by the front door. Red flickers came from it. Whack, whack. Odd markings, representing a six by six keypad appeared. His finger moved quick. Click. The very grinds had Stephen cringe. Turi pushed hard and motioned Stephen in.
Light revealed a mess of scraps; cans, odd metals, parts, and junk. Turi sent the door back hard with a kick. “Don’t touch,” he warned.
“What’s yours is yours,” Stephen said. Turi unpacked his salvage for the day with Melbsi in the free corner. Hmm. Sections of the room did not match junk. A lot of similar parts were piled near the door.
“This way,” Melbsi said. He coughed.
Stephen’s eyes widened briefly. The walls of the living room did not lean and were mostly intact. A nice blue couch and red chair were positioned in front of a long, thin holo-table. Some nice lamps welcomed him unlike what hung outside. Only the floor seemed to have a little mess.
“Still,” Melbsi said.
Shelves were near the door to the salvage room. Melbsi pulled an odd device that split apart and curved. A green beam soon connected the tips. Stephen tried to keep still as the beam neared. Off came a field and he ran it over Stephen’s arm. It stung a little. The very dirt seemed to rise and vanish from him. A thick layer soon vanished, and it spared his clothing from joining it. Filth still lingered.
“Best can do,” Melbsi said.
“My head?” Stephen asked.
“Wait.”
A bottle flew through the air. Stephen popped the top and took a familiar pill that dissolved the moment it hit his tongue. Coolness surged through his brain in little time. He held his head and cringed. It got better the more it went
“Sit,” Turi said, as he took the ray from Melbsi. He ran it quickly over himself, spending most the time on his face. A wet rag came next from a drawer at the bottom. S
tephen did his best sitting down in the chair. His body wanted to sink further.
“I don’t want to come off,” Stephen began. Their eyes were upon him an instance. “How do you know it is night without looking at the time?”
“Light change,” Turi said. Huh?
“Do you think you can help me get out of here?”
“We can’t,” Turi said. “Take something for that!” Melbsi shook and retreated into another room, coughing away. “We have no craft.”
“A handheld?”
“No.”
“Anything for contacting anyone?”
“Not up. Wait till morning and the shop may help you.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Stephen said. “They need to hear from me.”
“Who?”
“My friends.”
“They wait,” Turi said. “Night has come.”
“It came a while ago.”
“True night.”
“What happens at night?”
“Patrols.”
“Patrols?”
Down here there weren’t police that responded. Herald had assured them there was some sort of authority, but this seemed to be clear they did nothing. This patrol served as a brute force at night. Turi spoke of payment they expected if Stephen was out, or they’d beat him near death. They were known to shoot people who scavenged during their hours. To go out, meant Stephen had to chance a meeting worse than Hanash.
“I’m stuck here?” Stephen questioned.
“No, go,” Turi said.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Turi took hold of a tall glass that Melbsi brought for him. The two sunk down on the couch. They sipped a bit, eyes catching each other at times. Stephen tried not to stare at the drinks too much.
“You swift?” Turi spoke.
“Swift?” Stephen quested a bit baffled.
“Sneaky?”
“Sneaky?”
“Stealthy,” Melbsi added.
“What are you getting at?” Stephen asked.
“If you can make it to the refinery, you may be able to go up,” Turi said. “Get past the watch and the refinery’s sentries.”