The Lostkind (31 page)

"Berlin might send help, but… they probably don't know who to trust either." Yasi shook her head. "Their main problem is on the other side of the world; they're not gonna go out of their way to make Vandark their problem again."

"So we're on our own." Vincent nodded, and Connie sent him another fierce look.

"How long would it take to change the Tunnel entrances?"

"Most of the entrances lead to the Labyrinth. We can change those, but… We'll screw up the whole Rhythm of the place. We'll be paralyzing ourselves. It's not like there's a border crossing where you roll through trucks full of stuff. Everything gets carried in and out by hand, by a hundred odd people, every day. That stops…"

"Well, we don't have to close all of them." Keeper argued. "Find the places Owen would know about. We've got Vincent, have him go back and see if he can find out what Owen found out…"

"What? Find two years worth of answers in two days?"

Vincent jumped up. "Eureka!"

Yasi jumped a little too. "What?!"

"Let me see that second photograph again. The message that's only been there a week."

Yasi pulled the photo out and handed it to him.

EUREKA! 44-B L4-18

"It's a location." Vincent explained. "I didn't see it sooner, because it's been years since I needed the floorplan, but... 44-B is a staff locker number in my office. L4-18, means Level Four, Room 18. That's the staff room where the lockers are. Someone was directing someone to one of our staff lockers."

Yasi was on her feet instantly. "Whose?"

"I don't know, but off the top of my head, probably Owen's."

"Owen's locker is a dropbox." Archivist boomed. "Yasi, Owen's been here a full day and a half. I don't know who he was supposed to check in with, or how often…"

Yasi nodded. "I'm already on the way." She paused and gave Connie a quick hug, a warm smile on her face. Connie was surprised, but didn't flinch. Yasi pulled back and looked her in the eye. "Give this place a chance. This is a world where things must be Beautiful."

And then the Shinobi Captain swept around and gave Vincent an identical squeeze. "Keep an eye on Connie." Yasi whispered in his ear. "Somebody in here is helping Vandark and she came into your life around the time we did."

And then she broke the hug, like nothing was wrong, taking the exit at a running leap.

"What's wrong?" Connie asked, worried at the sudden spike of action.

"We didn't dare do anything that might focus their attention on Vincent, but we knew about Owen, so we kept an eye on him." Keeper explained.

Vincent was stunned. "Who did you have watching him?"

Keeper had a secret smile. "That would be telling." She gestured at the opening. "Think you guys can handle the basket elevators to get back to your chamber?"

Connie and Vincent rose and made their way back to the elevators. "I think so."

~oo00oo~

Vincent selected one of the ropes and fed it through the gears. A moment later they were moving.

"What the hell are you doing?" Connie demanded the second they were alone. "Since when are ‘we' finding help for ‘our' secret war?"

"We can't just walk away right now…"

"Sure we can!" Connie retorted. "Why can't we?"

"Come on Connie, you know what's coming for these people!"

"Exactly. For
these
people. Meanwhile, we've been snatched, attacked, watched illegally, dragged underground and the day is still young. Yes, I do know what's ahead for this place. That's why I want to leave."

Vincent bit his lip. "Well... I don't. I want to know where I can help out. Look around, every inch of this place is... is
magic
. One of the first things they said to me here... This world is made of people our world threw away. And this places makes them... heroes."

"First things
they
told you." Connie repeated. "You mean Yasi."

Vincent didn't answer.

"Vincent..." Connie she said gently. "There are guys who jump across rooftops with swords and crossbows, there are guys who run into burning buildings with a hose… and there are guys who open their own building to total strangers when it gets too cold for them on the streets." She moved in closer, pressing herself against him tightly. "You were
already
my hero Vincent… please?"

Vincent let himself embrace her for a moment, before realization caught up and he froze, pulling back sharply, suspicion crossing his face. "How do you know that? I never told you about that."

"Wotcha told me! She was… ow. Vincent, you're hurting me!"

Vincent released her instantly, horrified. "I'm sorry…."

"Wotcha told me." Connie rubbed her wrist. "She was trying to talk you up when I asked about you." She turned away from him, annoyed. "She told me you were the most caring person she'd ever found. She told me that if Vincent McCall was in your life, he'd be the one thing in this world that you could be sure of. The one person who wouldn't drop you when things got tough." Connie rubbed her wrist. "And in all this time, you never did. It's ironic that the one thing Wotcha
didn't
consider was the place she came from."

Heavy silence.

Connie noticed another elevator moving at an angle that would take them past each other. "I… I need to think about things for a bit." She declared. As the elevators passed each other, she climbed over the side and jumped the three feet to the other basket, suddenly going the other way.

Vincent felt his jaw drop. She had made the leap without hesitation. He couldn't help but think about the last time he was presented with such a leap, and he had chickened out.

And they looked sadly at each other, as the Lostkind rope-lines took them further away from each other.

~oo00oo~

The night Janitor at the City Planner's Office collected Owen's garbage, checked through it quickly, and put it into the hidden bag. He left the cubicle to empty the next bin…

And walked into Yasi. He nearly passed out. "Shi… Shinobi." He stammered.

Yasi glared at him. "Christen, I made it clear what your job was."

"Yes Ma'am." He gulped. "To keep watch on Owen Niklos, and all the ways he makes contact with people outside this office, as well as anything he takes with him."

Yasi nodded. "And?"

"I check his bag every night, right here at his workstation. I check his garbage every night, and turn over anything to the Watchers and the Scroungers. If there's anything of value, I told them to take it to Dorcan immediately. I know his passwords and check his mail, business and private. He's not sending anybody any details that could lead to us, and he's not carrying anything out in his pockets."

"Then anything he's taking an interest in, must be in his locker." Yasi said logically.

"He doesn't keep a locker, Captain." Christen said promptly. "I promise I would have checked it if he had one."

"Doesn't have a locker?" Yasi repeated, holding up a keyring. "Then why does he have a locker key?"

Christen froze. "I swear, I looked at the roster, he didn't get issued a locker when he was here, because he was only supposed to be here temporarily."

Yasi nodded. "I know, I'm not blaming you. But the time for subtlety has come and gone."

~oo00oo~

Connie wasn't sure if her watch was still keeping time correctly, or if it was set to the right time at all. It felt like a lifetime since she had last seen daylight, and she didn't have a clue what day it was. The Underside was huge, and the open space above them was criss-crossed with so many ropes, and so many people climbing them; it felt like being in a circus. Down at this level there were crowds of people going about their routines.

Now that she could see it from ground level, she could see that the ‘street level' of the dome was broken up into ledges, like steps for an impossibly huge giant. Each ledge created a ‘wall', with a series of stalls and tents against each of them, and room enough left for a busy crosswalk. The next ‘step' was the same, as was the one above it. Above them all was the dome, and it's many chambers, their lanterns casting a permanent starlight glow. Here and there on the edge of each enormous Step were iron streetlights; putting the multilevel marketplace in twilight.

The stalls and tents were as varied as anything you'd find in any metropolis, including New York. There were buskers, performers, and street vendors every ten feet, except they all seemed to be working a barter system instead of cash.

Connie would have been fascinated if it was a vacation, but her day had started with a home invasion, graduated to kidnapping, and now she was embroiled in an international conspiracy to take over a bizarre secret world. She wished bitterly that Vincent was as terrified as she was, but he was enthralled.

There were social classes, even here. She saw like staying with like, and those that hadn't been named or described to her, she picked names for them herself. There were the Amazons, the Urchins, the Watchers…

Connie stared at the Watchers. They looked like homeless people. Dirty, unashamed, slow moving… They would fit in under bridges, on park benches. She wondered how many she had seen in her life.

Had they been watching her? Had they been following her when she came into Vincent's life? When they had first started dating, there was a homeless woman outside his building… Connie tried to think of what she looked like, and couldn't picture it.

And then she was caught up in the movement. Yasi had mentioned the Rhythm, and now Connie was part of it herself. Goods and people coming in from all angles, the largest pieces staying at the higher ‘steps', and the smaller items migrating down to the lower stalls. The trickle-down theory was at work here; seemingly assembled over the course of entire generations.

And the area where she walked was a riot of color and noise. Every inch of the ground and ledge wall was covered in street-art and cave-drawings done by the kids she had met; drawn in the style of tribal paintings, as though generations of record keeping had twisted into graffiti. One of the drawings was of her, and she couldn't help the bitter smile.

"I know that look. Whoever he is, he's not worth it." A Busker said as she passed; his voice was rich and smooth; and he swayed on his feet like a snake-charmer. "And this is not a place for heartbreak. This is a place where art meets means, and beauty must be everywhere, or life is not worth living. Welcome to The Seven Steps, surface lady." He started to play his wind-pipes, a sweet Irish jig. A street drummer five feet away started playing along, tapping away on buckets and pots and pans, and everyone nearby made room for a few people who started to dance to it brightly.

Connie almost joined in, but shyly stopped herself. She'd never been to a place where people would start to dance in the streets at the drop of a hat, just because somebody nearby began the tune.

And then she felt familiar hands on her hips, and turned to find Vincent had tracked her down. And then they were dancing, swaying together to the music. It suddenly dawned on her that dressed in scuffed and torn clothes, still carrying the marks of a Riverfolk attack, they both fit right in with the rest of the Lostkind.

Nobody had called the dance; none of them were dancing the same steps; but it just seemed like a natural thing, to be in a crowd of strangers; dancing in the twilight streets.

"You remember first time I came over to your place?" Vincent said softly in her ear. "You made up all those romantic stories about exotic places?"

"Yeah." Connie nodded. "But that's what they were. Stories. My real life never got in the way. Vincent… real life,
our
real life, the life we built together, is not here. It's a few hundred feet over our heads. And I think if Yasi offered to let us stay, you'd hate me for wanting to say no."

Vincent pressed his face to her hair. "I'd never hate you. Never could. Never will."

"I know." She admitted. "You'd even come back with me if I insisted… but this is where you'd want to be, and I'd be the one forcing you to… You would always resent that, regardless of how your life here would turn out."

"Well… It doesn't matter." Vincent said finally. "Yasi hasn't offered me a place here, and I think Keeper would kill me in my sleep if she did."

Ordinarily, Connie would have been happy to go with that, but she was not quite as content as he was to just go with the flow. She wished bitterly that Vincent was as terrified as she was, but he was thrilled.

"I am not smart enough to figure this out right away." Vincent said finally.

"Me neither." She admitted.

Vincent dipped her back a bit as the music changed pace, and then gave her a twirl. As they came back together, he let out a breath. "We'll figure it out later then. Let's just… enjoy the music."

Connie was willing to accept that much; and tried to relax into his familiar arms.

And then the screaming started.

~oo00oo~

Officer Grey was checking the numbers on each staff locker against his notepad. When he found the one he wanted, he pulled the chain around his neck, revealing a small key.