Undercity - eARC

by Catherine Asaro

  “I’m just a private investigator. Another architect would be a better choice.”

  “It is not the training.” He stopped as if searching for the right words. “What you see in the undercity, Major, cannot be learned. No architect I know could go down there and give me a true picture, not in the way someone who understands the aqueducts could provide. For me to do justice to the repair, I need to know those canals as they are seen by someone who loves them.”

  Love? That was nuts. I didn’t even like the aqueducts. Except that was lie, and if it had taken me too long to admit that truth, the least I could do was acknowledge it now.

  After a moment, Paolo said, “My apology if I gave offense.”

  “No. No, you didn’t.” I took a breath. “Yes, I accept.”

  His smile flashed. “Thank you.”

  I nodded to him, undercity style. We had a bargain.

  Paolo glanced behind us. Following his gaze, I saw a tall woman in a green uniform waiting by the palace, partially hidden by the vines hanging off a latticed arch in the garden.

  Paolo stood up, and I rose as well. When I bowed from the waist, he inclined his head to me. He took his leave then, his guards falling in around him. The woman came forward, but she didn’t stop to talk when they passed on the pathway, though it looked like they exchanged a greeting. It seemed oddly formal for a husband and wife, but then, much of what the Majdas did seemed too formal to me. The woman walked through the lattice archway—and I stiffened. It wasn’t Lavinda.

  The Majda queen had come to see me.

  Vaj walked to the bench where I stood, imposing in her general’s uniform and long-legged gait. She nodded to me the same way that Paolo had done, but she somehow made it intimidating.

  “Major,” she said.

  “My greetings, General.” I was glad for the cool breezes in the mountains, because otherwise I would have been sweating despite that nanomeds in my body that were supposed to moderate such reactions.

  She motioned at the bench and we both sat down. “Paolo said you accepted the job.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Vaj gazed out over the terraces. I didn’t have the sense she was deliberately remaining silent, but rather that she wanted to think and felt inclined to do it while we were sitting here. After a moment she turned back to me. “We didn’t expect what you discovered about this woman Scorch.”

  I hadn’t either. “I don’t think she had much interest in smuggling weapons. She only became involved because it gave her a contact among the Traders.”

  “Yes, that appears to be the case.” Her voice took on a darker quality. “She found psions by addicting them to phorine. She controlled them by limiting the supply of the drug. She planned to sell them to the Traders.”

  I didn’t miss her phrasing: Planned. Not did. “Then she hadn’t yet?”

  “From what we’ve determined, she was setting up the first sale when you killed her.” The general’s voice was ice. “Hers would have been the ultimate crime, because we had no idea, none of us, that the people she planned to sell even existed.”

  Scorch had known, damn her greedy little soul. As much as I might resent that it took this discovery to make the powers in Cries care about us, I hated far more the future Scorch would have created with her greed. I hated Scorch. I didn’t much like myself, either, for the fierce satisfaction I felt in having killed her, but I was glad I had ended her miserable egomaniacal life.

  At the moment, however, my feelings were irrelevant. I had a greater concern. Cries had taken notice of the undercity, big-time. “What do you plan to do?” I asked. “Now that you know about my people?”

  She spoke in her perfect Iotic accent with that dusky voice. “I imagine my solutions will be different than what you might suggest.”

  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. But I had to deal with this, because if I didn’t, the general would go ahead with her own plans. “What are your solutions?”

  “For one, we must get those children a better life.” She spoke firmly. “We can build special schools in Cries and board them until they reach their majority. We will rehabilitate the adults to fit into society, to speak and dress properly, and live in normal homes. We can teach them appropriate vocations so they can make a living.” She went on, inexorable. “We’ll offer the psions training so they can use their abilities and learn what they can do for the military and government.”

  I couldn’t speak, I could only stare at her. No, I couldn’t look. If I stayed another moment, something inside me would explode and I would antagonize the most powerful human being in the Imperialate after the Pharaoh and the Imperator.

  I got up and walked to the edge of the terrace. I wanted to cross my arms over my abdomen and bend over, a posture I had often taken as a child when I was hurt. I couldn’t do that here, I couldn’t do anything to show weakness. I stared at the mountains and understood why Lavinda liked rooms with windows, because the sight of those peaks with their powerful serenity, enduring for long before we came to this world, was all that kept me calm.

  Gradually my pulse slowed. I finally turned to the general. She had walked to another part of the terrace, giving me room, her gaze on the mountains. When I moved, she turned to me and I went over to her. She didn’t seem surprised by my reaction. Although she couldn’t have been back on Raylicon for long, I had no doubt she had already talked with Lavinda.

  I spoke evenly. “If you institute that program for the undercity, my people will fight you with their every breath. The children will run away from your schools and think of it as escaping prison. They will leave again and again no matter how many times you round them up, and if you lock them up, they will do anything to escape, even risk their lives. The adults will use whatever jamming tech they can smuggle, steal, or salvage to take their kin so deep and far below the canals and the Vanished Sea, you will never find them all. You will destroy an irreplaceable community, probably the only of its kind in existence, and multiply an already grueling death rate, all in an attempt to control people who will never agree to live the way you want.”

  Her gaze never wavered. “We’re offering life,” she said coldly. “Over half those people who came to the Center were undernourished. Some were starving. Others were injured, bones broken and never properly set, birth defects never treated, the mineral levels in their bodies dangerously high. From what my people tell me, yours have no formal education or medical care, and no homes other than caves. Major, many of those people live well below the poverty level.”

  What, you just noticed? I held back my anger, shielding my mind. General Majda hadn’t created this situation, and I wouldn’t help anyone by losing my temper.

  I spoke calmly. “My people have struggled with poverty for centuries. Millennia, even.” We had no formal accounts, only oral legends handed down from generation to generation, but some of those stories were ancient, from a time before modern Cries existed. “We need to treat the causes of the problems, not ignore them by wiping out the culture.”

  “I cannot fathom,” Vaj said, “why anyone would die for the right to live in a slum. Don’t your people want to improve their station?”

  I gritted my teeth, then made myself stop. “Improve by whose definition? The undercity isn’t a slum. It’s a unique world with its own beauty, just as the beauty of Cries is stark compared to a paradise like Selei City on the world Parthonia. People in Selei City see life here as ‘barbaric,’ but no one would ever suggest retraining the people of Cries so they would act like people in Selei City and work in vocational jobs there.” Let the proud Majda chew on that noisome idea. “The undercity has an ancient history. Our culture, language, way of life—it has value.” I somehow kept my voice even. “That my people are crushed under the weight of poverty is true. It shouldn’t be such a choice—live in poverty or destroy an ancient culture.” I lifted my hands, then let them drop. “The cartels shattered two canals. Your brother-in-law is going to rebuild them with as much care as it takes to
remain true to the nature of those ruins. Why would we do any less for the people who live there? The changes need to come from within the undercity, with my people and yours working together.”

  I stopped then, unable to say more. That was one of the longest speeches I had ever given. I had no idea if I was making headway, but she seemed angry, at least as much as I could read of her guarded expression. She turned to look at the mountains with her hands clasped behind her back. Apparently Lavinda and I weren’t the only ones who found the scene calming. Great. We could all take turns staring. Maybe then we wouldn’t want to punch each other.

  After several moments, Vaj said, “My sister Lavinda has offered a suggestion.”

  I regarded her warily. “Yes?”

  The general turned back to me. “That your people choose a representative, someone who will provide an interface between Cries and the undercity. My people would try working with that representative to find solutions that are acceptable to both of our communities.”

  I exhaled with relief. “I think that would be a good idea.”

  “I am willing to agree to this on a trial basis,” Vaj said. “With one condition.”

  “Yes?”

  She spoke in a dry voice. “Major, you are the nightmare of any leader who has ever dealt with a disenfranchised population.”

  Where had that come from? I had no suitable answer, at least not one I could say to royalty, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “The success story,” she continued. “The striver who rises above poverty and leads a rewarding life. Of course, it’s what we want to believe everyone can do.”

  She wasn’t making sense. “Why is that a nightmare?” It was how the above-city ignored our problems, by saying I was an example of how we could better ourselves if we tried, which meant our problems were our own fault. I had heard that over and over in the military, until I wanted to throttle those who said my people “earned” their poverty through laziness, lack of character, and inferior genetics.

  “The nightmare,” she said, “is when the golden daughter returns and incites her people to unrest.” She shook her head. “That procession you led yesterday could have easily turned into a riot. The way those people followed you may be one of the greatest acts of trust I’ve ever seen. They see you as a leader, someone who can move them to action.”

  For flaming sake. “General, I have no wish to incite—”

  Vaj stopped me by holding up her hand. “Perhaps not. But I have concerns.”

  “So your condition is that I leave Cries?” Now, after I had finally admitted to myself that I needed to stay.

  “No,” Vaj said. “My condition is that you become the undercity representative who works with my people.”

  I blinked. “Why?”

  “Because any decision you make as that representative, any activity you encourage your people to take, will directly affect the changes you are working for on their behalf.” She paused, intent on me. “If you want me to refrain from implementing my plans, Major, then give me reason to trust that your ideas will work better.”

  Put that way, it made sense. She had just given me a powerful incentive to seek peaceful change. I had no desire to start riots or whatever, but she had a point. Violence could easily erupt if the under and above cities interacted more, especially given that the undercity was now armed with some serious artillery. The weapons the punkers and gangers had returned or that the army had dug out of the collapsed canal only constituted about half of the guns I had seen in Scorch’s storeroom. The rest were still down in the aqueducts.

  “All right,” I said. “I agree.”

  She didn’t nod. Instead she said, “I have two questions for you, before we make it final.”

  “Yes?”

  Her gaze hardened. “You had a rather dramatic reaction to the death of the Kajada cartel queen. Then you disappeared for nearly an hour from the Center. Why?”

  That was blunt. But I understood. In her view, the distance from “agitator who leads demonstration” to “cartel sympathizer” probably wasn’t much. “She and I were friends as children, long before she took over the cartel.” I stopped, hit with the confusing ache that came whenever I thought of Dig. “That whole day was intense, especially her death. I needed some time. I went to a secluded part of the Concourse and sat for a while with two friends.”

  Vaj didn’t look surprised, but I couldn’t tell if she believed me. “Her oldest daughter left with her brother and sisters right after they were tested. I understand the daughter took her siblings to an undercity family that had already agreed to care for them.”

  It didn’t surprise me that Dig had made arrangements for her children in case anything happened to her. In her line of work, that was the only rational choice. From what I had seen of Digjan, I had no doubt she was fiercely protective of her brother and sisters. Nor did it surprise me that they had left the Concourse. Our people had trickled back to the aqueducts throughout the day, until no one remained at the Center. Not one person had accepted an offer from the military for Kyle training, at least not yet. Whether anyone would eventually, I couldn’t tell.

  “I’m sure the children be well taken care of,” I said, hoping the general wasn’t about to ask me to turn in Dig’s kids. I would have to refuse, which could destroy the precarious balance in this negotiation we were trying to conduct.

  Vaj was still studying me. “The oldest, the one you called Digjan, came to the Army recruiting center today and enlisted.”

  Ho! “You mean, she went through with it?”

  “So you did know.”

  “I’ve offered to sponsor her.”

  “Yes, she wrote that on her documents. We noted it with her other sponsor.”

  Other sponsor? “Who is that?”

  The general spoke dryly. “It seems my sister Lavinda has taken an interest.”

  Saints almighty. Majda royalty and a colonel in the Pharaoh’s Army? Digjan’s enlistment had just gone from the bottom of the heap to the top. Doors would open everywhere for her. I found it hard to credit, though. Did Lavinda feel guilt about what she had seen yesterday? I could envision her helping Digjan enlist, but sponsoring her was another matter altogether. It implied she had a far greater investment in the daughter of a drug queen than I’d ever have expected.

  “Why would she do that?” I asked.

  “Because we don’t want her to join the army,” Vaj said. “We’re sending her to the Dieshan Military Academy.”

  My mouth dropped open. I closed it and said, “That’s for Jagernauts.” They were the elite of the ISC elite, the legendary psibernetic fighter pilots. The Academy had thousands of applicants every year from the best programs across an empire and accepted only twenty or thirty as cadets.

  Vaj started walking and I went with her along a path in the garden. “This girl Digjan,” Vaj said. “She has one of the highest psi ratings of the people we tested. Genetically, her mother’s DNA has many of the markers, but unpaired.” She glanced at me. “You know Kyle traits are recessive?”

  I nodded. “My understanding is that you need the DNA from both parents to be a psion.”

  “That’s right.” She took a side path that headed deeper into the garden. “Her father must have also carried many Kyle mutations, because she manifests many of the traits.”

  I could see how that made her a prime candidate for a Jagernaut, but she needed a lot more than raw ability. “Won’t she have to pass entrance exams?” For acceptance into the academy, she would need to beat some of the most accomplished young people in the Imperialate.

  “She has a remarkable education,” Vaj said.

  “You’re kidding.”

  She spoke wryly. “That was the recruiter’s response too. But we’ve given her many tests. She repeatedly scores in the top percentiles. She was quite blunt about hacking the city meshes and stealing her education. Her mother insisted, apparently from the day the girl could speak.”

  That was the last response I expected. Dig
had scorned my attempts to learn. She told me it was a waste of time. I couldn’t tell the General of the Pharaoh’s Army that, so instead I said, “I’m glad she did well.”

  “Apparently it had something to do with whatever you told her mother the day you enlisted.”

  I didn’t want to recall the argument with Dig that day I left. It hurt too much. But if it had led to this, then some good had come out of those wrenching words.

  “So you think she can pass the Academy exams?” I asked.

  “With preparation.” Vaj shrugged. “She’ll have no problem with the physical tests. That girl is in incredible shape. We found no signs that she ever suffered from malnutrition.”

  I spoke dryly. “I doubt her mother ever lacked the money to buy food.” Dig had often raided her family’s stores to feed Gourd, Jak, and me. It was one reason we hadn’t suffered malnutrition. I also had to admit that spending the first three years of my life in an orphanage where I was fed properly gave me a better start on life than most undercity children.

  “Her mother left her an ugly legacy,” Vaj said. “And yet—”

  I waited. Then I said, “And yet?”

  The general exhaled. “Digjan Kajada has no trace of drugs in her body. No indication she ever used them, not even according to our most sophisticated exams. She’s cleaner than many of the kids who come in from Cries. She’s never been arrested, never caught drug running, never netted when the police rounded up cartel members. The closest she ever came to an arrest was when she walked onto the Concourse yesterday holding that gun.” She glanced at me. “Which she returned.”

  I suspected Vaj didn’t believe any more than I did that Digjan wanted to return the gun. But regardless, Digjan had put her weapon on the table, and the army was willing to let that be enough.

  I let my shoulders relax, feeling a hint of closure finally, after all these years. “Digjan is a strong young woman. She’d make a good Jagernaut.” It was a far better use of her abilities than inheriting her mother’s cartel.

  Then I remembered I wasn’t in the clear yet. “You said you had two questions.”