Rise

by S A Shaffer

  “But, wouldn’t everyone want to be rich?” David asked.

  Johnson laughed. “Laziness isn’t a disease, it’s a mindset.” He said. “You choose when to sleep and when to strive. You choose when to sacrifice and when to indulge. Look at your own situation. In the end, who was it that helped you more than anyone else?”

  “You did.” David said.

  “Wrong.” Johnson said with a grin. “You helped yourself more than anyone else did. Was I there when you decided to spend every waking minute studying for your PLAEE? Was I there when you worked yourself to the bone to provide for your mother? If you hadn’t put forth that effort, would either of you have survived for five cycles? Tell me, you lived in the district with more social assistance programs than any two other districts. Did they assist you?”

  “No, they never had enough funds.” David said.

  “And why is that?” Johnson asked, but David only shook his head.

  “Because,” Johnson continued, “by the time the tax money reaches the hands of the needy, it’s reduced by 85%. They have to pay to have the taxes collected, pay to have them accounted, pay to have them divided, pay to have everybody’s needs assessed and categorized, pay to decide who should receive assistance and who is well off, and finally, pay to distribute. By the time everyone has withdrawn their hand from the pot, and I think you know firsthand how many withdraw more than they should, there’s hardly 15% left for those for whom the funds were intended. You could rely on 15% of the population’s generosity with better results if you just left the money in the hands of those who actually worked for it. Had you applied your same work ethic in the Sixth District, instead of the third, you would have had a much easier life. There are no social assistance programs here at the sixth, and yet, there are fewer poor than anywhere else. There are jobs in abundance, and many companies have employee assistance programs you might have used to help your mother. Do you see what I’m saying?” Johnson asked.

  David nodded. “People here are free to live how they like, and the result is a happy, prosperous community. But How is it so clean?” he asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cleaner city.”

  “The citizens of the sixth are proud of their city.” Johnson said. “Each citizen had a hand in building it. That means they have a vested interest in keeping it valuable.”

  “And Blythe wants to destroy it.” David said. “He doesn’t care about the prosperity or the people who live here, he just wants the power. He is happy to feed his constituents a failed system as long as it keeps them dependent on him and tied to his district.”

  Yes, though, not all Equalists are like him.” Johnson said. “There are some who are as you were, sincere in their beliefs and honestly seeking to help people. Some of them spend their whole lives striving to help Alönia’s poor with a flawed system.” He sighed and leaned against the window.

  “We are at the close of a very dangerous game, you and I.” Johnson said after a moment. “The Fertile Plains are collapsing around us, yet we are still betting against the odds.”

  “I’ll unseat Blythe.” David said with determination in his voice. “I swear it, and I’ll do it in time.”

  Johnson looked at him with his stern, unwavering gaze. “I have no doubts you will. You’re an Ike, and if there is one thing at which Ikes excel, it’s achieving their goals even when the odds are stacked against them.”

  David smiled and looked over the city, thriving and unknowing of the impending siege from its neighbors. After a long moment, the two of them departed, not speaking as they left, but nodding in the fashion that men often do, a nod of respect and admiration. Seeing the sixth gave David even deeper conviction than he had before. It gave him a people to fight for and a people who would appreciate his fighting.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE OLD CITY

  “If you don’t learn to move your feet, you’re going to wind up on your ass every time!” Francisco said as David looked up from the ground.

  David groaned and rolled to his feet. His sneak training had intensified on every level. If he was going to participate in an airship heist, he needed to be capable, and Francisco had raised the “capable” bar significantly since the last mission in Thornton. They went running every morning, and not just ordinary running; they ran along rain gutters of the Sixth District’s highest orbital level. The Úoi Season rain made the gutter’s slick and left a good three inches of water in the bottom of the gutter. Every time David fell, he enjoyed a wet landing before he slid a few fathoms. It didn’t take him long to step lightly and run with a bend to his knees. Francisco called it balance training, but it felt more like drowning.

  This morning’s drench was only the beginning of Francisco’s hellish instruction. Next they spent an hour with weights where David wasn’t allowed to use his mechanical arm. Francisco seemed determined that the right side of his body be as strong as his ebony left, something everybody else knew to be impossible. Then he spent some time in the range, balancing on a bar and firing his father’s revolver at a moving target. Francisco had suggested he start with a smaller caliber weapon, but David wouldn’t dream of using any other weapon. After the range, when he felt exhausted enough to climb back into bed and call it a day, they stepped out onto a sparring mat so Francisco could knock him down and practice a few vulgar insults.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to move my feet,” David said once he’d found his footing, “It’s that they won’t move.” He leaned over to rest his hands on his knees and pant. Then he felt a foot kick his shoulder, and the world spun as he landed on his back, again.

  He looked up and saw Havoc lounging on top of a mat beside the sparring ring, his tail flicking in wide arcs. He cocked his head and gave David a curious look.

  “I can see why nobody’s ever bothered domesticating glide panthers.” David said as he lay on the ground. “I could be in dire need, and you’d just sit there licking your paws.” As if on command, Havoc raised one of his growing paws and rubbed it against the side of his head. True to Francisco’s claim, the animal had hardly left his side since he’d returned from the Third District, following him around the facility, even braving the rain to track him as he ran the gutter circuit, and, in just a few short weeks, it had grown considerably. However, Havoc never seemed to care when Francisco beat the stuffing out of David on their sparring sessions. Bonding evidently did not encompass guarding.

  David looked up at Francisco with an annoyed look.

  Francisco didn’t say anything, as was his style, but his expression spoke volumes. Get up you lazy cur; the enemy will be twice as tough on you.

  David climbed to his feet again, this time fixing his eyes on Francisco the entire time. He took up a stable stance and lifted his hands in front of his face. Letting out a slow breath he focused on Francisco’s movements. He’d learned much since they’d started their training. He now knew what the Sneak was going to do before he did it; he just wasn’t able to stop it from happening. Francisco’s movements were quick and flawless. He always played to David’s week side and avoided his ebony arm like a red-hot poker.

  David knew how dangerous his arm was even in practice. He’d crushed several pistol grips at the shooting range and several more skiff controls. Every time he saw the arm’s strength he wondered if someday it might hurt someone he loved. He’d had nightmares about it. He was holding hands with Mercy when something startled him, and he broke her dainty fingers. After that, he’d refused to touch her with anything other than his actual fingers.

  David turned as Francisco stepped toward his right side, forcing the man to confront his mechanical arm. Francisco jabbed twice at David’s face, forcing David to block, and while his own hands momentarily obstructed his vision, Francisco dropped to a crouch and kicked at David’s legs. David knew the move was coming, as he always did. This time, he decided that if he had to fall, he was going to fall forward on top of Francisco rather than on his back. He lunged forward as Francisco’s kick swept his
feet out from under him. Surprisingly, his gambit worked. As he fell on top of Francisco, he grabbed the man’s shirt with his right hand and shoved him on his back. At the same time, David closed his ebony fist and slammed it into the mat an inch away from Francisco’s head. The impact punctured the leather and squished out stuffing. Everyone else in the gymnasium stopped and turned when they heard the thud. Francisco’s breath hissed out as the full weight of David’s body pressed against him. His bionic eye swiveled to the side and observed David’s ebony hand where it was buried in stuffing, and then he smiled.

  He spoke to David in a very low voice. “When you’re fighting a real enemy, don’t hesitate to crush skulls and spill blood. Don’t hold back your fury, only your temper. Throw yourself into the fight with equal parts thinking and feeling, anticipating your enemies’ actions and reacting with natural, fluid movements.

  David nodded, then he heard a giggle and saw Mercy standing at the edge of the mat with a newspaper in one hand and the other over her mouth.

  “Well, this is awkward.” She said.

  David threw himself off of Francisco, the sweetness of his victory soured by the realization of their proximity and Mercy’s presence.

  “And all this time I thought you were sparring in here.” Mercy said.

  David grinned and blushed. He stood to his feet and wiped the sweat from his brow. He became acutely aware that he’d left his shirt at the side of the mat, but Mercy only smiled at his blushing.

  “Don’t suppose you’d like to have a go at sparring?” David asked and gave her a half smile.

  “Oh?” Mercy said. Then to David’s shock she dropped the newspaper beside the mat and slipped off her heals. She lifted her white skirts with red trimming and stepped onto the mat with her small bear feet. She walked toward David with slow steps never taking her eyes off him, but she didn’t stop until she was only a few inches from his face, a nearness that quickened his heart and shortened his breathing. He could smell the floral scent of her perfume and feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. He could see the depth of her sparkling green eyes and the wave of her red hair as it flowed over one shoulder. She clasped her hands behind her back and rose up on her tip toes so that her eyes met his.

  “I don’t need to use my muscles to subdue and overpower my opponents.” She said in a whisper, a whisper that made the meaning of the words all the truer.

  David knew he’d already lost, and he knew Mercy understood the same, but he maintained some semblance of control and said, “Prove it, pretty girl.”

  Mercy smiled one of her dazzling smiles and David felt his knees wobble.

  “Maybe next time,” she said. Then she turned and sashayed off the mat employing just a little more feminine movement than was entirely necessary. There was no doubt about it, David found her to be the most attractive woman in all the Fertile Plains.

  “I think I like sparring with her better than you.” David said to Francisco, as he watched Mercy retreat.

  Francisco grunted.

  “When you’re done playing,” she said as she bent to retrieve her newspaper and slip on her heels, “come have tea with me in the dining room, and I’ll show you what I discovered. Oh, and do take a bath. You smell of sweat.”

  “What did you discover?” David asked before she walked out of the gymnasium.

  She turned and smiled at him. “Didn’t I say? I found Inspector Winston.”

  David had never washed and changed so quickly in all his life. He’d chased after Mercy with a torrent of questions after she’d exited the gymnasium, but in the end, she’d only grinned and waved as the steam lift doors closed between them, and she rocketed away. He dressed in a fresh set of clothes and ran all the way on to the dining room on tired limbs. He found her on the far side of the comfortable café-looking establishment at a romantic table for two with an excellent view of the city. She waited there in her white dress trimmed in red, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. David hurried across the room, Havoc at his heals, and sat opposite her with an anxious expression on his face.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “How did the rest of the sparring go?”

  “Huh?” David asked, somewhat taken aback. “Oh, we didn’t spar anymore after you left. My final match with you left me weak at the knees.”

  She laughed and patted Havoc’s head.

  “Come on now, don’t keep me in suspense.” David said. “What did you discover about Winston?”

  Mercy held up the newspaper. “Haven’t you learned to read the morning newspaper yet?” She asked with a disappointed look. “Until you do you will be the last to discover anything at all.”

  “Oh,” David said. “Well, I’ve been somewhat busy as of late. Training with Francisco, hiding as a fugitive, planning an airship heist.” He counted off on his fingers as he spoke. “Did I mention training with Francisco?”

  Mercy rolled her eyes, unfolded her newspaper and plopped it down in front of David. He perused it and saw an article Mercy had circled in the job opening’s section.

  Help wanted from former legendary aide in restoring IKW from the old city tubes. Sanctuary faith required. Working hours: 7:00-8:00 daily. See site for details.

  David read through the peculiar solicitation several times before looking up at Mercy.

  “Don’t you see?” She said. “The former legendary aide is you, and IKW could only be Inspector Kenneth Winston.”

  “Yes, I gathered that, mostly, but what the devil are the old city tubes? And what site am I to see? It’s all so cryptic. We could research for cycles and never find the meaning in the message. And, how do we even know IKW is referring to Inspector Winston?”

  Mercy rolled her eyes. “Because it’s in the same line as you. Former Legendary Aide? Honestly David, the chances that this message refers to anyone other than you and Inspector Winston are very remote. As for the see site for details part, well that must be talking about the job location.”

  David opened his mouth to inform her that the solicitation did not give the job location when he put it together. “Oh! If the job solicitation is restoring IKW from the old city tubes, then the cite location must be the old city tubes.”

  Mercy nodded.

  “But,” David said as he scratched his head. “I have no idea what the old city tubes are.”

  “It must allude to something he said to you.” Mercy said. She took another drink of her tea. “Some sort of conversation in passing.”

  “We never talked about old city tubes.” David said. “But we did talk about some of the older buildings in Capital City. Did you know that the police station is one of the oldest—” David gasped and raised his hands up to his head. The motion sent the newspaper flopping onto the floor. Havoc jumped from where he lay and tried to crawl under Mercy’s chair, a spot in which he no longer fit.

  “The lava tubes!” David said. “When we were walking through the lower levels of the police station, he told me about how Capital Island was once a volcano and that, supposedly, lava tubes connected all the old structures.” Then David checked his enthusiasm when he remembered what else Winston had said. “But he also told me no one had ever found them.”

  “Well obviously somebody did.” Mercy said and she grabbed the newspaper from the floor and replaced it on the table. “How else could Inspector Winston be alive down there?”

  “You think he’s down there right now?” David asked.

  “Well, how many people were a party to your conversation about the lava tubes?”

  “Just the two of us.” David said with a nod.

  Mercy shrugged. “That probably means it’s him. He must have gone into hiding when Blythe took the speakership.”

  “Even if somebody found the lava tubes,” David said, “I still don’t know where they are. How am I supposed to find them?”

  “That could be more difficult,” Mercy said, “but he did give us a lead.”

  “A lead?”

  “The old city?” Mercy gave him a weren�
��t-you-listening look. “I don’t think that’s just referring to the older city buildings. The old city is a particular sector of Capital Island. Some of it is newer, but most is original construction from back when the Houselands were still separate houses and Capital Island was a kingdom of its own.”

  “You know,” David said with a grin, “sometimes I forget how much of a genius you are.”

  “Oh stop.” Mercy said. “I already did my fair share of blushing at this morning’s sparring match. We need to stay on topic. Where is the secret entrance to the ancient lava tubes? I would assume it would need to be at a very old part of the city.”

  “I’ll bet there is more than one.” David said. “Inspector Winston told me that the tubes used to connect all the old buildings in the city. Wouldn’t that mean there was more than one entrance?”

  “Yes.” Mercy said with an impressed look. “That will certainly make things much easier.”

  “How big is the old city?” David said as he leaned back and interlaced his fingers behind his head.

  “A little over two square grandfathoms.”

  “What?” He said and then his mouth fell open. “We’ll need some help then.”

  Mercy nodded. “Even then, it would still take weeks.”

  “We don’t have weeks.” David sighed. He leaned against the table, then, unable to help himself, he stood and started pacing back and forth. Mercy crossed her legs and sipped her tea, she and Havoc following him with their gaze.

  “We could always search the city permits?” David said after a few minutes, and then he stopped and shrugged. “The entrances have to be in ancient basements or down original drainage pipes through old foundations. If we checked the city records, we could make a map of which of the standing buildings are the oldest and search them in chronological order.”