The Lostkind (56 page)

Vandark took time after each ruling to explain his reasoning, and this was no exception. "Over the last few days, our people have been eating well." He pronounced.

They're not your people.
Yasi thought silently.

"They received Gourmet food from the finest chefs in the city. In New York, that's world class." Vandark continued. "Some have asked where it all came from; and now I'll tell you. The right piece of paper in the right office can give us access to huge amounts of money. A few moments with a phone and the right set of numbers can make people jump in this town. Taking a driver's uniform gives us secrecy; and just like that; we all eat like Kings." Vandark took a moment to let that sink in. "Why the hell haven't you guys been doing this all along?"

Because we can't get away with it for long.
Yasi thought silently.

"The Chief of Surgery at St Luke's is considering retirement; and his staff are angling to impress him. The right bit of blackmail at the right moment could be the decider. My faithful servant Owen is, at this moment, meeting with one of the Candidates, securing a supply of the most innovative medicines New York can offer, in exchange for his rivals secrets. Your Eyes can decide the rise and fall of empires. Imagine what your dedicated Healers can do with more medicines coming in. We can start by improving our lot in the world; but that's only the beginning."

Our lot only needs improving because you burned it all down.
Yasi retorted silently.

Vandark dismissed the Local Lostkind; and turned to his Wildmen Warriors. "Don't worry; I won't forget you. You've followed me; and we have prevailed. And as Victors; we are entitled to the spoils of war." he went through his team, one by one. "Dagny. Pepsi will win the Cola Wars within the year."

Dagny grinned; and his teams chuckled in a good natured way.

Vandark went to the next. "Nutt; the next time Manchester United is in town; you have free reign."

"They'll never win a World Cup again!" Nutt crowed; and everyone laughed.

"What about you sir?" One of the Wildmen called to their Leader.

Vandark grinned over at Yasi. "I have all the Prize I need."

And then, suddenly, a voice whispered gently from the walls, echoing from all directions. "Three Rules, Always."

Vandark stiffened, as did everyone else in the room. Yasi struggled not to jump to her feet.

It was Archivist's voice.

"Our homes have been invaded, and our hiding place burned out." Archivist declared, his voice resonating from the steam pipes. "We have accepted these things quietly because we have been allowed to stay in our chambers, and our lot has improved. On the surface, there is relief."

"The Whisper Gallery." Vandark took his cloak from around Yasi's shoulders, and swept it around his shoulders as he stalked toward the door. "Bring her."

Yasi was pulled roughly off the floor by two of the Wildmen, dragged along behind him.

"Relief that the horrors our imaginations conjured have not come to pass. But many oppressors have come with the promise of friendship. Never forget how many of our friends the Wildmen have slain. Never forget that they burned our children. Never forget that we have lived in secret for a hundred years, protected by safeguards that the Invaders have overturned in a day of violence and murder. Three Rules, Always!"

Yasi glanced around as she was practically dragged behind Vandark. The words were going through the pipes, as they did when Vandark challenged her. Everyone was hearing this.

~oo00oo~

Vandark made his way to the Whisper Gallery and found Archivist half-collapsed over the stack of Archives. He looked wounded; but unbowed, a light sheen of sweat across his determined face. He turned to face Vandark, and ignored him completely, eyes focusing instead on the young woman dragged along behind him forcibly.

"Yasi!" He called out in joy; despite Vandark's approach. "Thank god your ali-"

BANG!

Vandark promptly shot him down.

"NO!" Yasi fought her way free of the Wildman holding her chain with a scream, and threw herself down at her father's side.

Archivist was still, and already growing cold. Yasi looked him over. He had been bandaged expertly. Someone had helped him make it this far after he had fought... She pressed on the wound quickly; but it was already too late. Vandark was a crack shot; and Archivist never knew what hit him.

Yasi cradled her father for a moment, hot tears running down her face. A moment later her fingers tightened on him savagely, and her eyes blazed at Vandark; who had the gun pointed at her instantly. "You've still got one parent at my mercy Yasi." Vandark said simply, not raising his voice. "Not to mention yourself."

Yasi bared her teeth at him, half feral from the rage.

Vandark turned to the trunk of pipes and spoke to the Underside. "In my time as your leader; I have brought you much. I do not forget those who help me and show loyalty. I do not ignore the hard work you have shown already. Instead, I have rewarded it. Look around, and you will see that I am right. But I do not have mercy for those who defy me. If you have a problem, bring it to me. It's better than starting a riot; and the only way you can challenge me without losing your life."

The pipes always brought the whispers; from the city, from the Underside... With the right pipes closed off, and others opened, he could control the flow of the heat, and the whispers that went with them. From the Underside and the listening Lostkind, there was only silence.

Vandark pressed the moment. "I have killed to claim this place as my own. What do you think I would do to keep it?"

"Vandark." Yasi said darkly. "May
I
ask a question?"

The Invader was surprised. "Yes."

"Do you know why we don't use guns?" Yasi said, her voice almost unrecognizable under the weight of her anger.

"They're volatile." Vandark nodded. "In enclosed spaces, curved walls, lots of stonework; they can be far more dangerous to friendlies." He held up his own. "That's why mine is the only one you'll find down here."

"No." Yasi said coldly. "We don't use them... because they break the rules. Be Invisible. Be Daring. Be Beautiful. Guns are loud, cowardly, messy, gawd-awful things. They have no beauty; they have no respect; they make killing a game, and they are just bad." She shook her head. "You're alone in the world now Vandark. Even the Riverfolk know to follow the Rules. The Underside is not forgiving to those who do not keep her Rules."

Vandark had provided the Lostkind with food, improved and rebuilt their homes, answered their fears with respect and behaved honorably toward his prisoners; but this made him scoff dismissively. "Hm. I'm sure."

"Mark my words,
my lord
." Yasi said bitingly. "The Underside is like any other city. It has a pulse, a soul. It has a
Rhythm
. And you have made Her your enemy. The Secret City Herself is your enemy now. You're already beaten; you just haven't fallen down yet. Your reign here is
finished
."

And through the steam pipes that spread through the Underside, carrying the whole conversation in both directions to all the Lostkind; a silent roar went between them.

Nobody ate the food Vandark brought them that night.

SEVENTEEN: Rule One: Be Invisible

In the Archives room of the City Planner's office; Gill and Vincent had been busy. The two of them had converted the back of the room into an open space, large enough for their purpose.

Vincent was working from memory, but it was a fair approximation of the projectors in the Round Table Room.

"Two projectors and a smoke machine to create the hologram." Vincent began pointing them out. "Two cameras, circa 1950 to record and transmit the image being projected in real time. The cameras are pointed at me here; and the Projectors intersect over the smoke at the other end. When someone is projected there; we now have the ability to have a conversation. It's the only outside line the Underside has; at least that I know of. It's the only way they talk to other communities like them."

"So, they're listening to us right now?" Gill guessed, looking at the smoke.

"No; we're not transmitting. The cameras and the transmitter are all fifty years out of date, so there shouldn't be anyone else on that frequency. It's like watching an analogue channel on a digital TV."

"What if they've changed frequency?" Gill asked carefully.

"Jeez, Gill; I'm just glad we're transmitting
at all
. The only way the plan works out as a happy ending is if I can get a message through. The fewer liberties we take with this, the better. That's why I needed original equipment."

"Lets synchronize our watches." Gill said.

Vincent nodded and checked his watch. "Eight hours... go." They both started their watches, beginning the countdown.

"Why not just send them a message from up here?" Connie demanded. "Why do you have to go back?"

"Because if nobody's come to talk to me, or Tecca; odds are good that the Bad Guys won. Vandark's smart. He'll keep anything I can throw at him a secret. This only works if they all hear me."

"The Whisper Gallery?" Connie hissed, worried.

"The Whisper Gallery." Vincent agreed, determined.

Heavy silence. Connie sent Gill a look; and the man found something fascinating to do on the other side of the room.

Connie stood close to Vincent and spoke in a low voice. "I managed to arrange a surprise vacation to my mom's." She explained. "I can be there for a week or so. If you need me here, nothing's promised."

"No. You should go." Vincent told her. "This plan goes bad… Vandark might come looking for you. I need Gill here, but I'd rather you be safe."

Connie sighed. "Never thought I'd be fleeing the city." She smiled at him, just a little. "I've been hanging with a bad crowd, huh?"

"Looks that way." Vincent peeked at her out of the corner of his eye. "But why don't you say what you really want to say?"

Long silence.

"Don't take him with you." Connie whispered. "The Underside cost me you, it's almost cost me my brother; it cost Tecca his grandmother… It can't have him too."

"Connie..." Vincent sighed. "I've been terrible to you, I know. But for what it's worth... Tecca will be back soon."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning New York isn't his home, the Underside is, but Tecca won't be coming with me; and if you're going to run… do it soon, and take him with you." Vincent said.

~oo00oo~

Outside the City Planner's Office, Drew was perched on the hood of his parked car; and Benji and Tony waiting in the backseat, and Tecca pacing impatiently back and forth in front of the car; waiting for an answer.

Drew put out a hand and stopped him. "Kid, will you hold still? You're making me nervous."

Tecca reined himself in with difficulty. "You're Connie's brother?"

"Have been all her life." Drew confirmed. "You one of the kids from her Clinic?"

"Technically, yes." Tecca admitted. They were silent for a moment before he continued. "She wants to adopt me."

Drew reacted. "Well. That's big."

"It's a first for me too." Tecca admitted. "Thing is, I kind of like the idea."

"Connie says she's about to explain what the hell is happening." Drew said. "But I'm guessing you already know, huh?"

Tecca glared. "It's not something we talk about. Ever. Ev-er!"

"Connie trusts me." Drew offered. "Does that buy me anything?"

"Yes." Tecca said honestly. "That's why I decided not to kill you."

Beat.

"Well… welcome to the family then." Drew said awkwardly.

They were saved from further conversation when Gill, Connie and Vincent came out of the building; a shared look of determination on all their faces.

"We're ready." Vincent said firmly. "Drew, Benji, Tony… thank you so much for getting it all together for me."

"Are you going to explain what's going on now?" Drew demanded, fed up at last.

"Yes." Connie said softly. "And you're a Prince for being so patient with me."

Vincent wrapped up the little meeting. "Connie, tell your brother the story. Tecca, you're coming with me, Gill…"

"Set up a Press Conference." Gill said for him. "On it. This works, I'm fired; you know that."

"I do." Vincent sighed. "I'm really very sorry for that."

"Don't be." Gill said easily. "The best thing about the job was the late night poker games. Stupid Gambler's Anonymous."

Vincent shook his best friends' hand. "Thank you for… well, for all of it."

Gill nodded, swallowing. "Thank you for… ahh, you know."

"Men." Connie breathed disgustedly. "Just can't say
anything
can you?" She stepped forward and hugged Vincent tightly. "Be safe."