by A. B. Keuser
“How did you know this would be here?”
The map stopped… rather, the lines designating the tunnels turned red, their transparency making them all but disappear in the dim lighting.
But the actual tunnels didn’t.
The walls… he ran his hand along the bonding plaster and then rubbed the residue that came from it against his fingertips. They were fresh. No more than a month old.
If they’d been put in place before that, the powder would have been nearly pink from the clouds their boots kicked up. But his fingers were a dusty white and he could almost smell the plaster.
“How the hell did this get here?” Stevens pulled the pad from his hands, scrolling the map in every direction.
Flynn had a few theories, but they all involved the Lazarai, and he didn’t trust Stevens enough to divulge that yet.
Beside the plastic, someone had dropped a bag in the soft dirt, and Flynn snatched it up before Stevens could notice it. He tucked it away.
When Stevens took a step forward, Flynn stopped him.
“We need to go back. I just wanted confirmation.”
The man looked like he wanted to argue. His hesitation was ended by a hard shove.
With Captain Stevens turned around, and when they’d put ten meters between them and the tunnel that shouldn’t exist, Flynn asked. “Have you been out to Spire Vista lately?”
When Stevens said nothing, Flynn pulled the peep disc from his wrist and slapped it on the top corner of the maps screen. The footage he’d taken of the collapsing house and the depression of the tunnel played out on repeat, and Stevens cursed under his breath.
“We have to go straight to Henri with this.”
“I hadn’t planned to go anywhere else.”
Stevens shot him a glance. “Yeah… but there’s more you need to know, and I’ll need her and Drea to back me up when the other Captains find out I’ve told you.”
Flynn didn’t ask. The man would get around to it in his own time, and they had a mile or so more to walk.
With a heavy sigh ended by a curse, Stevens stopped him, looked down the tunnel in the direction they’d come, and then to the darkness ahead of them.
“Have you seen any peace officers around town?”
Flynn couldn’t recall the last time. “I don’t go out of my way to run into them.”
“Well you haven’t because they’re gone.”
There was a finality to the word that made Flynn’s skin crawl. “Gone?”
“Yeah, a month or so back, North and Saguas headed in to deal with their weekly complaint reports and there was no one there…. Just a memo that might as well have been a fancy ‘fuck you.’”
Flynn didn’t quite believe him, but thinking back through the many instances when a peace officer should have been around and he hadn’t seen one… he hadn’t seen anyone in the regulation Colarium uniform outside of city hall.
“So that’s what you’ve all been hiding. I mean, aside from the ecomentalists with that weird R symbol.”
Stevens straightened. “That is another matter entirely, and one that doesn’t need to be addressed right now.”
The man turned on his heel and marched ahead.
Pausing to look at the contents of the bag, Flynn cursed and hurried after him, all the way out of the mines and into Henri’s office.
“You have a problem.” Flynn said before Stevens had the opportunity to turn the conversation.
“Tell me something I don’t know, and add whatever it is to the pile I’ve got growing in the corner.”
He didn’t look toward the corner, didn’t have time for jokes.
Dropping the bag of focus charges on her desk and ignoring her curse as the resultant shock nearly toppled her coffee, he said, “You’ve got a part of your town sinking, mine shafts that are marked as decommissioned that are wide open, and those lying around like someone forgot to come back for the evidence.”
“What are you talking about?”
She looked at the map, then the video, and screwed up her face into something that resembled disgust. “Those tunnels were filled in years ago.”
“Then I must have been hallucinating when we found them, wide open, with new plaster on their walls. I have Captain Stevens as a witness, and we both know he wouldn’t take my side for the fun of it. Not that anyone can stand trial right now.”
Stevens rolled his eyes. “I told him.”
If Henri was surprised, she didn’t show it.
“Don’t believe me?” He held out his hand, the plaster still present in the creases of his hand.
“That,” she said, staring at the dusty skin. “Is not a substance we use.”
“Then who does? Because whoever they are, they have access to your shafts.”
“But there’s no reason for them to…”
“Who, Henri?”
“The terrafarms.”
His confusion must have shown on his face because she went on.
“They have to dig down to plant the base of their nutrient feeders and biosynthesizers. Without a root, the rest of the operation won’t work. So they wind up with a little hive of tunnels around the base, and with the weight of the tower on the adjacent soil, they use this to help stabilize them.”
“I’ve seen the dead space, I just assumed that was to keep radiant heat from cooking the closest crops.”
“The foundation of the tower goes deep, that’s what keeps it upright when our big storms roll through. They don’t put anything substantial on top of the mine hive. Once you stack four shafts on top of each other, that stuff isn’t stable enough to hold the weight of a ground vehicle, much less a building. It’s solely to keep the tunnels below from collapsing in on themselves.”
“Then you need to get crews down there, or Spire Vista is going to collapse.”
“We would have noticed if there was a problem.”
“Take a walk Henri. You might not be able to see the extent in that video, but the buildings are settling. If there was a road over top of the shaft, it would be one thing. I might not have noticed, but there is a whole row of homes situated across it. If it collapses and takes the topsoil with it, those houses are going to fall… or be left dangling, only half supported.”
“What is it, exactly, that you’re suggesting? I can’t move a crew onto that with a snap of my fingers. Whichever captain I chose would revolt.”
“Work something out so they can shift their workloads and deal with your security breach. Someone is in your mine. Why… I know they’re not stealing your UPD-5—”
“Because you’ve already tried to figure it out and failed?”
“No, because I figured out three good ways to do it, and this contradicts two of them.” Ignoring the suspicious look Henri shot him, he said, “We’ll get the tunnels dealt with. Treat the symptom until we can find the cause.”
“The Captains are going to be pissed if you keep stepping on their toes.” Stevens said without any real conviction.
“At this point, I don’t care about your profit margins and you shouldn't either. People are going to die if we don’t deal with this.”
Looking at Stevens, she nodded, “Call them in. We’ll meet like it’s a regular emergency council.”
When he left, Henri turned to him with a scowl. “After we deal with this problem you and I are going to talk about those three ways, and figure out how we can get rid of them.”
“Yes ma’am.” He wouldn’t tell her about the fourth. It wasn’t his place to out the sisterhood if the Great Mother chose to let them take more than their tithe.
By the time he and Henri made it to the school—closed for the weekend—most of the others had already arrived.
Nika leaned against the door, to the gymnasium and as they neared, he pushed himself fully upright.
“Trying to crash the party again?” Henri asked. “North will never let you in, and Stevens will strong arm you too.”
“Persistence pays off eventually. And Stevens is in
such a fluster he might not even notice I’m here.”
“Do you wait here and beg to be let in every time?”
“Some might say it’s better to live as a beggar than die as a fool.” Nika nodded toward Flynn’s neck. “Tell me how you got that scar of yours and maybe I’ll pretend to ignore the fact the captains are letting you in…”
Flynn had to force himself to keep his hand by his waist, touching it was in no one’s best interest.
“You know how it is, you tell the wrong person no when they want other things from your mouth….” He shrugged and let the man think what he wanted.
Nika smiled at him like a man holding a royal flush. “I like you and your quick lies.”
North walked past them forcing Nika to step out of the way.
All the man said was “No.” and Nika’s face hardened.
Glaring after him, Nika shook his head. “You tan a boy’s backside once and they never forget… conveniently, he seems to have forgotten that I had to do it because he nearly killed himself--and me--triggering an avalanche.”
Flynn glanced toward the visible mountains of junk.
“As I’m not wanted here,” Nika said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I’ll get back to work. I just had to make sure no one’s forgotten that I’m an interested party to these things.”
He watched Nika go and then turned back to find Henri studying the cloth around his neck. “How did you get that?”
“That is for me to know, and the rest of the galaxy to wonder.”
“And here I thought we were getting to be friends.” Henri rolled her eyes at him.
When she pushed open the door, everyone turned to look.
None of them were happy to see him.
North looked ready to get up and walk out.
While Henri dove straight into her explanation of the reason for the meeting, what Flynn and Stevens had found, and fielded less-than civil questions from the assembled Captains, Drea sidled up to him.
“Seamus told me about Spire Vista. Is it as bad as you thought?”
“Possibly worse.”
“He just wants us to pay him more.” North lurched from their chair, their back to Henri, they appealed to the other Captains.
“Are you suggesting he dug the tunnels out himself so that he could get more money out of… not asking for anything?” Drea Saguas proved she had no problem being his champion.
She stared down North, not budging an inch, and finally, he was the one who drew away, scowling at the rest of them.
“Fine,” he said, “But I’m not going to reallocate resources until I’m certain there’s a problem to be solved.”
It was better than nothing, Flynn supposed.
Captain Stevens stepped forward. “You can have a quarter of my crew, divided into three shifts. If won’t be enough on its own… and it’ll cut down our productivity, but the sooner we get that shaft closed up and know the people in Spire Vista are safe, the better we’ll all sleep at night.”
The other captains stared at him in astonishment—except Drea, hers was a glare of scrutiny.
“I’ve seen the problem and its effects. If you don’t believe Monroe, believe me. This is serious and it needs to be dealt with. Immediately.”
Flynn left them to their organizing, and allocating.
He had a headache, and a need of some peace.
That was how he found himself at the temple—his original destination—so many hours after he’d set out.
He’d never understood temples. Not ones like this anyway.
Worshiping a higher power in an ostentatious manner seemed more like stroking a priest or priestess’ pride than devoutness to any benevolent deity.
But he didn’t come to the Serbalean temple for communion with a goddess—despite how much his twin believed in the Great Mother, he doubted such a being had any ability to exist—he came for the stillness.
In that stillness, he could finally think.
And, while thinking was rarely his friend, the sacrifice of facing his demons usually yielded results.
Not—of course—that he didn’t usually end up feeling like a complete cock afterward.
But that seemed to be a part of religion no matter what corner of the systems you were in.
The sister who admitted him was a tall woman. He wouldn’t have hazarded a guess to her age, but her robes were dipped in the same cerulean as her eyes, and she had dyed her hair a powder blue as well.
“Welcome brother, you have missed our afternoon services.”
Thank the Great Mother.
She offered him a bowl, the vials therein clinking against each other, but he refused.
“Our next is at dusk, if you care to wait.”
“Thank you,” he said, and moved into the silent sanctuary.
On Ludo, the temple was old stone, green vegetation, and moisture. They’d built over a stream, and water meandered under the altar.
Here, everything was red stone—pulled from a quarry not far away. The walls were sanded smooth, and, save for the inset images of the Great Mother—stylized for this particular congregation—they were bare.
Empty, like he wanted his mind to be.
Everything echoed.
He moved down the aisle, counting the pews like he’d done years ago when his visits were regular. But the brush of skirts stopped him, and he looked up into a familiar face, powdered white and speckled with green pigment… an odd assortment of fake freckles.
“Sibylla,” he said quietly as she slipped her fingers through his. “I didn’t know the Great Mother had sent you here.”
Sibylla’s smile was radiant. “I wasn’t sure why she had until I saw you.”
He wasn’t certain the Great Mother had sent her to Sukiyaki so that she could drag him into the back of the temple and bruise his spine as she shoved him up against the wall, but with Sibylla, there was never any reason to contradict, or complain.
She kissed like each connection of their lips ignited her soul. And he’d never been one to deny anyone else their pleasure.
When she finally let him up for air, it was with a timid smile. “I won’t be able to coerce you into my chambers this time, will I?”
He shook his head, still trying to steady his breath.
Pushing out a teasing pout, she said. “I’d be hurt, if I didn’t know better.”
Flynn rarely had to explain himself twice… he wasn’t repulsed by sex, he’d just never needed it—never really wanted it.
“You looked lost when I found you today.”
“I didn’t realize my coming to the temple meant that you’d found me.”
“You’ve always been lost, Flynn.” Her fingers traced his palm. “The Great Mother doesn’t want you to wander in perpetuity.”
“Maybe not… but for now, I need to search in the dark places before I can find what I need to see in the light.”
Her smile doused like a candle flame and she looked away from him, down. “I once thought we could be lost together, but that’s not my path. And yours will only intersect mine on the rarest of occasions. Kat said as much the last time I saw her.”
“Then I’m happy the Great Mother has given us these opportunities, however long they take to arrive.”
She smiled and tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his hands as he tried to button those she’d undone. “Your sister taught you how to speak our language too well.”
“If the Great Mother allowed men to take the rights, I could pass myself off as one of you.”
“Maybe you could…. Mind, the robes would look horrific on you.” She smiled again and stood, placing her hand in his. “I hope this helps you on your path… A man with a yellow cuff dropped it three days ago.”
Sibylla walked away from him, green tinted hands clasped behind her back, head bowed. In his hand, dusted with the fine green powders, was a key like the ones Drea Saguas wore on the heavy loop on her belt.
Twisting it in his fingers, he wondered if he hadn’
t just been given the reason why Anderson Lodge was unlocked.
Twenty-Seven - Flynn
“Why did the Refuti company look into my file?”
“Hmm?” Flynn was half way into his ship’s ventilation system and Putty’s voice was faint. “Maybe they want to hire you?”
But when he pushed himself out, Putty wasn’t remotely happy about the information in his hands.
“They pulled up the satellite incident file.”
Flynn didn’t mention his connection, that it would have been a good way to get information on him, if they were trying to avoid Colarium interest… but they wouldn’t have known they needed to find a clandestine way to reach his file. He needed to get out of the habit of thinking everything was about him.
“It’s Phee.”
Flynn looked up, startled by the conviction in Putty’s words. “She’s looking into your deviant past?”
“No. I mean, she doesn’t work for them, but maybe….”
“Maybe what?”
Putty, in true big brother fashion, didn’t answer.
He left.
And Flynn swore underneath his breath as he hustled to deal with the machinery that would slip into mechanical lock if he didn’t get it running before he left.
He cursed out loud when the thing started to overheat, and once again when he grabbed the wrong strut and burned himself.
When it stopped vibrating and he was certain he wasn’t going to die, he went after his brother.
The burn wasn’t easy to ignore, but whatever Putty was up to, it would need to be dealt with before he could worry about the swelling red flesh.
He ran through the scrap yard, and caught up with Putty—his pace determined, not particularly fast—half way down the main drag.
Putty stared at the screen in front of him, fingers sliding across the long arcs of the prompts that suggested which way he viewed the data.
After a moment, he’d lost patience, and Flynn watched him do something he’d seen before.
Putty knocked the comp unit with the side of his fist and growled a word their mother would have washed his mouth out with soap over.
“Is there a reason you’re abusing my tech?” Chad asked.