The Cityborn

by Edward Willett

  She pulled on the patched blue socks Danyl had provided, then, leaving her boots where they were, padded in stocking feet to the door of the bathroom. As she pulled it open, she heard Danyl and Erl talking in low voices in the main room, the sound carrying clearly down the stone corridor.

  “. . . told you, I didn’t know she would be in the Drop,” Erl was saying.

  “Then why did you show up when you did? And with a weapon I didn’t even know we had?” Danyl sounded angry. “Do you know how much more salvage we could have claimed if I’d been armed as well as Cark the last few years?”

  “You’re armed as well as Cark was now,” Erl pointed out. “Literally.”

  “Yeah, well, as you’ve already pointed out, fat lot of good that will do us once somebody new gains control of the Rustbloods and decides to take revenge. They know where the hovel is.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Because you think they can’t get in here? All they have to do is camp out front until we run out of supplies.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Erl said again. “After today, we’re done with the Middens.”

  “What?” Danyl sounded shocked, and Alania, equally alarmed, ran down the hallway.

  “What?” she cried in echo.

  The two men were seated at the table; their heads swung toward her in unison. Erl got to his feet. “Sit down,” he said. “Danyl, your turn to get cleaned up. You stink.”

  Danyl turned back toward him. “I want to know what you mean!”

  “And I’ll explain it,” Erl said. “But not until you’re clean and we’re sitting down to lunch.” He glanced at his watch. “An early lunch, but I think we could all use it.”

  Danyl glared at him, glared at Alania with those blue eyes so frighteningly similar to her own, and then stomped off to the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him.

  “Forgive him,” Erl said. “He has had a rather unconventional upbringing and no opportunity to practice social niceties.” He smiled at her. “May I offer you a cup of kaff?”

  Alania stared at the older man. Dark eyes sparkled at her. His accent, his turn of phrase . . .

  Her eyes widened. “You’re an Officer!”

  Erl’s left eyebrow arched. “Very observant. Yes, I was. But as far as First Officer Kranz and the Captain are concerned, I’ve been dead for twenty years.” He jerked his head toward the corridor. “As has he.”

  Alania looked in the direction of the bathroom. “Does Danyl know?”

  “No.”

  She turned back to Erl. “Then why did you just admit it to me?”

  “First, because you’d already guessed. Second . . .” Erl sighed. “Second, because it no longer matters. I will tell Danyl the truth, too . . . if time permits.”

  That sounded ominous. “If time permits?”

  “I’m expecting a call. Then I’ll know.” He stood. “So . . . kaff?”

  Alanis had had a proper upbringing, and there was only one answer to such a question. “Yes, please,” she said. “Two sugars, no milk.”

  Erl laughed. “Sugar is worth more than gold in the Middens, and milk is entirely unattainable.”

  “Then how can you get kaff?”

  “Well, that’s different. Kaff is a staple of life.” He grinned. “Will you still have it even though you have to have it black?”

  Alania sighed. “Yes, please.”

  Erl disappeared into the kitchen.

  Alania put her elbows on the dining table and her head in her hands, running a finger over the synthetic skin covering the wound on her forehead. It was still morning, but she wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep for hours.

  It seemed unlikely she would get her wish, so she settled for gratefully accepting the kaff Erl brought her in a rather ugly brown mug with a huge chip on one side of the lip. She was sipping from it when the bathroom door opened and Danyl came out wearing only a towel. He was wiry and well-muscled, and even from a distance she could see several scars on his torso and legs.

  Then he glanced her way, and she blushed and quickly focused her attention on her mug.

  Danyl emerged from his room—thankfully fully clothed—a few minutes later and joined them at the table, pulling up one of the armchairs from the wall since there were only two dining chairs. Erl went back into the kitchen and emerged with bowls of stew. Alania found herself famished. Apparently terror and the imminent threat of death both whetted the appetite and exhausted the body. You also threw up every last bit of breakfast, she reminded herself. She took her first bite of the stew rather gingerly, since she wasn’t entirely sure what the lumps of meat in it were, but then devoured the rest as she discovered that whatever they were, they were deliciously savory.

  Erl and Danyl ate more slowly. For a few minutes none of them spoke. Danyl finally broke the silence, pushing the armchair away from the table, its legs squawking against the stone floor. He folded his arms and glared at Erl. “Now I want some answers. You said you would tell us over lunch. Where did you get that beamer, how did you know to come rescue us, how did you know Alania’s name, and what did you mean when you said we’re done with the Middens?”

  Danyl probably wanted to look stern and determined, but since the armchair was much lower to the ground than the dining chairs, he looked more like a ten-year-old seated at the grownups’ table, trying hard to pretend to be an adult. Alania’s mouth twitched at the thought.

  Having the urge to smile at anything after the morning’s events rather startled her, and it was in that moment that she realized something she had surely already known but hadn’t admitted: she was enjoying herself.

  Well, maybe “enjoy” wasn’t quite the right word. But the truth was that despite the terror and pain and shock and everything else, this had been the most interesting morning of her entire twenty years of life, the one morning when everything that had happened had been completely out of the ordinary and uncontrolled.

  Although, come to think of it, perhaps the out-of-the-ordinariness had really begun the day before with First Officer Kranz’s unexpected arrival at her birthday party and subsequent shocking announcement.

  I should thank him next time I see him for making it possible for me to finally get out of the City. Her mouth quirked again.

  “You seem . . . remarkably unfazed by this morning’s events,” Erl said to her, ignoring Danyl. (She supposed he’d had a lot of practice at that.) Old he might be—at least, old to her—but clearly he missed nothing. “Even amused.”

  She shook her head. “Believe me, I am completely fazed,” she said. “It’s just . . .” She paused to try to find exactly the right words, and finally decided upon, “It’s just that for once in my life, I’m not bored.”

  Danyl snorted. “So glad we could provide entertainment.”

  Erl gave him a warning look, and he subsided. “You have asked me several questions,” he said to Danyl. “But before I provide my answers, I think you need to hear from Alania exactly how she embarked on such an . . . unexpected journey.” He looked at Alania, and her eyes widened as she saw in his face that he already knew what she was going to say. How . . . ?

  Ex-Officer, she thought. And he said he’s expecting a “call.” He must still have contacts up above. He’s not just an old scavenger. He’s something else.

  What else they would presumably find out in a few minutes.

  “All right,” she said. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, and told Erl and Danyl everything that had happened to her, starting with the arrival of First Officer Kranz at her birthday party.

  Danyl’s eyes narrowed. “Yesterday was your birthday?”

  She nodded. “My twentieth. Why?”

  He glanced at Erl. “It was my birthday, too. Twentieth.”

  “And no, that is not a coincidence,” Erl said. “Alania, carry on.”

 
; Alania told the rest of her tale. When she’d finished, Danyl gave a low whistle. “You’re something special for sure.” He gave Erl a meaningful look. “Something valuable.”

  Alania sighed. “You don’t have to keep speaking in code. I’ve figured out why you want me and why you’re being nice to me. You think maybe you can get a good ransom for me from the City. I’m the best piece of salvage that has come your way in years. Am I right?”

  Danyl’s mouth fell open a little. Erl laughed. “Our young guest here,” he said, “is not stupid, Danyl. Out of her element, yes, but definitely not stupid.” He snorted. “She could not be stupid, being what she is.”

  “But what am I?” Alania asked. “Do you know?”

  Erl leaned back. “Therein,” he says, “lies a tale.” He sipped his kaff, then put it back on the table. “To begin with, not everyone is happy with the rule of the Captain and First Officer.”

  Alania wondered if he meant that to shock her. “Even on Twelfth Tier that’s true,” she pointed out.

  “Indeed,” Erl said. “As I have reason to know. Twenty years ago . . .”

  An urgent beeping came from down the corridor leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. Erl twisted sharply around. “Early,” he said, sounding worried.

  “What’s early?” Danyl demanded.

  “I have a call.” Erl pushed back his chair and went down the corridor to his own room.

  “A call?” Danyl shouted after him. “From who?”

  “Whom,” Alania corrected without even thinking about it. Danyl turned his fiery gaze on her, brows knitted, and she raised her hands defensively, palms out, with a little laugh. “Sorry. Well drilled. I have also been known to fly into a rage when confronted by an errant apostrophe, and I once killed a servant who dared to misplace a comma.”

  Danyl’s eyes widened. “You . . .”

  Alania sighed. “I’m joking. I only had him severely beaten.”

  Danyl stared at her, and then, suddenly, he laughed.

  Alania smiled at him, but the moment passed as quickly as it had come. Danyl leaned forward. “There’s something I need,” he said fiercely. “Something I thought you could get for me . . . or that I might be able to get because of you. I was going to take you to the Last Chance Market and barter you for the one thing I’ve never been able to afford, the one thing even Erl hasn’t been able to get: a City Pass.”

  Alania didn’t know what that was. Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Danyl rushed on. “It’s a . . . ticket, an entrance ticket to the City, granting permission to live and work there. Very few of them are granted to anyone who isn’t born and raised in the City. But there’s a trader in the Market who swears he can get me one if I find something valuable enough. And you are definitely valuable enough. The Market is this afternoon. But now . . .” He looked down the hallway. “Erl says I’ll never go back into the Middens. I don’t know what that means. And he clearly has something else in mind for you . . .”

  “Yes,” Erl said, appearing from his room. “He does.”

  Danyl twisted all the way around in his chair to face him. “And are you finally going to tell me what that is?”

  “I will tell you what you need to know.” Alania realized Erl had the beamer rifle in his hand again. “How much ammo in Cark’s slugthrower?”

  “Twelve rounds,” Danyl said. “Erl . . .”

  “It’ll have to do,” Erl muttered. “It’ll hold them off for a little while, at least.” He looked at Alania and Danyl in turn. “Both of you get your boots on. Danyl, get your backpack. Then come to the kitchen.” He left them.

  “Hold them off?” Danyl shouted after him. “Hold off who?”

  No answer. Danyl swore, shoved the armchair back, and stalked down the hall to his room.

  “Hold off whom,” Alania murmured to no one in particular. Then she sighed. “I guess a nap is out of the question.”

  She headed toward the bathroom to retrieve her boots.

  ELEVEN

  BY THE TIME Danyl got to the kitchen, Erl, a backpack and the beamer rifle on the floor beside him, was kneeling at the back wall as though praying—somewhat startling, since Erl had never shown any religious proclivities before. But then he stood up again, and a section of the wall that Danyl had always thought was solid rock swung outward, revealing a tunnel, a twin to the one at the front of their quarters. Danyl gaped at it, feeling a moment of confusion that was almost like vertigo. How many more surprises would this day hold?

  “We don’t have much time,” Erl said as Alania came into the room. He reached down, picked up the pack, and held it out to Alania, who took it. “Put this on; it has supplies you’ll need. Follow this tunnel. After about a hundred and fifty meters, it turns sharply right; follow it another couple of hundred meters, and you’ll reach a ramp. It descends a few meters, then joins a stairwell. Going up, the stairwell leads to the Rim. Don’t go that way, or you’ll die. Take the stairs down all the way to the bottom of the Canyon. You’ll find a boat on the River. Get into it and let it float you down to the River People. Ask for Yvelle. She will be expecting you. She will get you to Prime.”

  “Wait!” Danyl glared at Erl. “Have you gone insane? The River People? Yvelle? Prime? In twenty years you’ve never mentioned any of these things!”

  “For twenty years you didn’t need to know about them. Now you do. There’s no time, Danyl. Do as I say.”

  “You keep saying there’s no time. But you never say why. Who did you get a call from? What’s happening?”

  Erl took a deep breath. “Alania is not just valuable, she’s invaluable . . . to a lot of people, but especially to First Officer Kranz. He knows she dropped into the Middens, and he knows she’s alive. He’s ordered the Provosts after her. I suspect they’re already in the Middens. They’ll hit the Rustbloods first, and the survivors will point them to us. If they’re not already on their way to the hovel, they will be soon. The Rustbloods might not be able to recognize the entrance to our little hideaway here, and they certainly can’t get through that door, but the Provosts can. They’ll take Alania back to the City. That can’t be allowed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to end up down here, and she sure as hell wasn’t supposed to end up with me . . . and especially not with you . . . but that’s the hand we’ve been dealt, and that’s the hand we have to play.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar object: an old-fashioned data crystal, bright blue, six-sided, ten centimeters long and a centimeter wide. “Turn around.”

  “What?”

  “Turn around!”

  Danyl obeyed. He saw that Alania had put on the pack Erl had given her; now Erl tucked the data crystal into an outside pocket of his own backpack. “There’s a reader in Alania’s pack,” Erl said as he sealed the pocket. “Use it when you have time. Which you won’t until—unless—you make it to the River People.”

  Danyl spun to face him. He had suddenly realized where this was heading, and fierce denial welled up in him. “You’re coming, too!” he cried, but as he had known he would, Erl shook his head.

  “No. I have to delay the Provosts. I’ll hold them in the tunnel, keep them from coming after you.”

  “They’ll kill you.”

  “No,” Erl said, “they won’t. First Officer Kranz is going to want to talk to me. I’ll surrender as soon as I’m out of ammo. I’ll lie, tell them you fled the other way through the Middens, send them on a wild goose chase to the Greenskulls. I’ll be fine.”

  “Talk to you?” Danyl stared at him. “Why?”

  “There’s no time. The data crystal will tell you. Now go.”

  Danyl felt panic rising in his chest, an unfamiliar sensation, something he hadn’t felt since he was twelve and trapped in the trashslide. His panic then had done him absolutely no good. Struggling had only made the rubbish grip his body tighter. It wouldn’t do him any good this time, eithe
r, but the thought of losing Erl . . .

  “You’re the only family I have! I can’t—”

  An alarm cut him off: a sharp, repeating squawk, so loud and piercing it hurt.

  Alania flung her hands over her ears. “What’s that?”

  “Intruders in the hovel,” Erl said. “The Provosts have arrived. It won’t take them long to find the real entrance.” He snatched up the beamer rifle from the floor and thrust it at Danyl. “Take it!”

  Danyl stared at the weapon for a long moment, then seized it almost spasmodically and slung it over his shoulder.

  Erl turned to Alania. “I’m sorry we didn’t have an opportunity to get to know each other better,” he said to her, and bowed, a courtly gesture that Danyl had never seen him make before.

  Alania curtsied in response. “As am I, sir,” she said. “But I do thank you for the kaff and that delicious meal.”

  “You are most welcome.”

  Danyl felt as if he’d fallen into some strange alternate universe. The Provosts were literally knocking on the door, he and Alania were supposed to flee for their lives along a tunnel he’d never even known existed until that moment, and Erl and Alania were exchanging polite chitchat?

  Life at the top of the City clearly drove people bonkers.

  The moment passed. Erl turned back to Danyl. “Now go!”

  Danyl surprised himself by flinging his arms around the older man. “No time, boy!” Erl growled, but all the same, he returned the hug.

  Danyl took a deep breath and released his guardian. As he had so many times at Erl’s urging, he had a task to perform. Flight this time, not salvage or scouting, but Erl had never steered him wrong before. “Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye,” Erl said. “I—”

  Whatever he wanted to add was cut off by a new alarm, even higher-pitched and more frantic.

  Erl’s head snapped toward the dining room. “They’ve uncovered the door mechanism. Go!” He dashed out of the kitchen. Alania ran through the secret door and into the tunnel beyond. Danyl followed, then turned and hurriedly searched the wall for some way to close the door behind them. He found a pressure plate and pressed it.