The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus (3 page)

And indeed,
lift stations were the hearts of the city.  If the people were the blood, the stations kept them flowing.  All eleven levels of the city were connected through the central stations.  There were seven, scattered across Cerberus.  Hardened and protected, the lift stations had been built into the city’s design as a defense mechanism.  Without control of the lifts, it would be impossible for any ground assault to succeed. 

Level Nine, the lowest of all the levels, consisted only of the slums.  Long forgotten and unused, the slums were the bowels of Cerberus,
the foundation of the great superscrapers that surrounded Janus.  It was utterly ignored by the upper castes but for a few exceptions. 

Levels Eight, Seven, and Six comprised the factory levels.   Sometimes, when the sun was high overhead, and the fog
wasn’t too thick, Janus could see the crisscrossing bridge-ways of the factories and hear the roaring machinery from the top of a large trash pile.  The factory levels produced vast quantities of goods, materials, and even food for the populace of the city.  Interspersed between the great factories were quarters devoted to the men and women who kept them running.  Worked by millions, they were little better than the slums, but at least provided some element of stability and safety.  Whole generations lived and died working the same factories, in what amounted to small cities nestled amongst great furnaces and massive gears.

Levels Five, Four, and Three were dedicated to the Corporate Security Forces, with easy access to most of the rest of the city. The Corporate Security Forces w
ere the largest employer of all.  Corporate Security was the fist of the Executors, maintaining order and stability throughout the Corporation and its outlying territory.

Level Two provided
the power and water for the city, supplying the people through its maze of pipes, pumps, and conduits.

And
Level One was devoted to research and administration.  It was said that little research, but much administration occurred there these days. That the Executors had to focus on maintaining the Corporation, rather than expanding or improving it. 

The two uppermost levels of the city were lettered, not numbered.  Level E was the primary residence of
the skilled workforce, and the place where most of the city’s commerce occurred.  It was the lifeblood of the Corporation in many ways, and played host to millions upon millions, housing those who worked on all of the primary systems of the Corporations – from factory foremen and engineers, to merchants and tradesmen.  It was crowded, and rough.  But as long as the predominant rule of law and order survived, the Security Forces turned a blind eye.  Control and wealth were the concerns of the Executors; the petty indulgences of the masses could be ignored. 

And finally, there was Level H; the home of the Executors and
their servants, the Overlords, upper castes, and ranking military.  It was from there that the Executors ruled.  It was also the only part of the city that was actually subject to direct sunlight. 

Years ago,
Janus had asked about the nature of the numbering convention.  No one seemed to know, but it was rumored that it was all some sick joke by the Executors.

Emerging from the shadows in her simple white uniform, Clara took the knapsack and her collection of rags and hid them carefully in a loose drainage grate.  Motioning she was ready, the pair moved on.

As Clara and Janus crossed the circular clearing that surrounded the glowing lift station, two guards signaled for them to approach. 
They were Cerberus Security, and truly imposing.  Their armor, a terrifying mass of plates and muscle-like ripples, easily added a half-meter to even the most ordinary soldier.  Composed of a metallo-ceramic called ceramium, the tough, thick, purple and black armor was well protected against almost any threat – except to the fearsome rifle every S.T. carried: the Zeus.

The Zeus was an electromagnetic rail gun.  Firing small, nearly weightless rounds called bolts at thousands of kilometers per hou
r, few things could stop a Zeus.

And set within the heavy helmet was a
wide, opaque, Pellucidum visor that allowed the soldiers excellent sight, but gave no glimpse of the man inside – if there even was one. 

Janus had heard the tales from other slummers, when they crossed paths or traded, about the inhuman characteristics of the S.T.s.  He did not believe them, but he understood why Corporate
Security did nothing to dissuade the rumors.  Besides, pretending that there was no man inside made it that much easier for Janus to despise them.

S.T.s are all the same, anyway,
Janus thought.

“ID?”
One of the two guards demanded on their approach, snapping Janus from his reverie.

Clara pulled out her unique Cerberus ID that allowed her access to the upper levels, a rarity in the slums.  It was quite possibly the most valuable thing she owned.  A simple, partially translucent square, the ID displayed her picture as she
handed it over to the guards, glowing green to confirm her vein structure and identity with a simple touch.

The guard hardly glanced at the scanner before lazily motioning for her to pass through the gate to the station.

The second guard motioned roughly at Janus with his rifle, “Ya?”

“Was
just leaving,” Janus stated blandly, ignoring the attempt to intimidate him.

The guard who had inspected Clara’s ID turned to face Janus, “You shoul’ show some respect.”

Janus gave him a pitying look and then turned with a smile to Clara.  “Have a good day,” he waved cheerily.

“You not hear me, mudfish?”  The first guard grunted at Janus.

Clara froze in the doorway when she had heard Janus’ reply.  She did not wave back, but instead gave him an angry gaze and mouthed
NO.
As the two guards advanced on him, her look became desperate.

Janus sighed, and glanced at the first guard, who was in the process of clumsily trying to shove him.  The blow from the armored soldier surely would have sent him flying, but the guard was simply moving too slowly.  They always moved too slowly.  Janus took a step back, easily dodging the
simple attack.

“You little—” the guard spluttered as he stumbled forward.  Janus smirked as the guard flung a loose fist towards him, and danced away.  The first guard howled with rage, but the other two laughed, “G
ettin’ beat by some kid, Hammer?”

Clara rushed towards the fight, but was grabbed by a third trooper, “Janus!”

Janus bit his lip guiltily.  As Hammer turned to face him, and Janus raised his hands in truce, “Listen – we both know you could take my head off with a punch, so why don’t we call it quits for today?”

“Yeah, Hammer, quit while you’re only slightly behind,” one of the other guards called.

“Shut it, McKnight,” Hammer replied.  “You think I’m going to let this kid make a fool of me?”  Hammer grabbed his rifle, “Let’s see how well you run from a bolt.”

Janus felt his whole body tense as the barrel of the Zeus swung towards him.

McKnight grabbed the barrel, “Might not want to do that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re soft on this mudfish.”

“No, but one of the Overlords might be.  There’s a request for him,” he motioned his helmet to the console behind him.

“What?”  Clara exclaimed. 

“Supposed to send him up with the woman.  Come here, kid.”  McKnight gestured with his free hand to Janus, who eyed him suspiciously.  Clara held her breath.

McKnight laughed, “I was rootin’ for ya’, remember?  Besides, orders is orders.  We can’t let you outta sight now.”  Janus didn’t move.

McKnight grabbed Clara roughly.  She gasped in pain. “I mean it, kid.”

Janus scowled, but walked confidently towards the guard.  “That’s it.  Go on.  Straight up to Overlord Middleton.” 
McKnight nodded at Clara, “I presume you know to head there straightaway.”

Clara nodded numbly. 

“Good.  Let them through.” 

The other guards stepped aside.  Janus could feel Hammer’s burning eyes through the opaque visor, and he smiled at the angry guard as he passed.

After an interminably tense few moments, the pair passed the checkpoint and entered the obsidian structure.  Janus could feel Clara’s anxiety as her eyes jumped back to him every few moments.

Janus let his eyes wander over the station.  The interior r
eflected the twisted outside, except the walls gave off a darker, redder glow.  A Security Officer, in a standard black and purple Cerberus uniform, worked the control room in the center of the station, overseeing his task through a heavy red window.  The sigil of the Three-Headed Dog of Cerberus was engraved into the walls.  Ten heavily armored doors in the roof designated where each of the individual lifts would descend, riding magnetic tracks along the walls of the station.

Only two of the seven lift stations across Cerberus served the slums, and only one lift within each of those stations ever came down this far.  There wasn’t much need for more.  Most of the traffic hovered between the factory
and security levels, transporting vehicles, equipment, and supplies.  Two lift platforms were devoted specifically to the Security forces; another two to the constant supply of workers to and from the factories.  A smaller, enclosed lift that was devoted to the upper castes hardly ever moved anywhere. 

Janus watched as a flat, heavy platform with no rails or sides, and wide enough for a hundred slummers, descended gently to the ground through the roof in the station.  At Clara’s urging, he stepped aboard.  It was intended for transport of vehicles, not peopl
e.

A few troopers manned each of the gates, lazily watching for activity, but mostly
looking as though they wondered why they had been relegated to such a position. 

“Good morning, Clara.”

Clara startled out of her reverie and Janus whirled around to find a kindly-looking old man perched over a gnarled wooden walking stick next to her.  His face bore tired lines and his spotted hands spoke to his age, but his bright blue eyes peeking out from under bushy white brows suggested a spark of energy deep within him.  Straight silver hair was cropped upon his head and a brown, sharply pressed servant’s uniform with two rows of pockets gave him a distinguished air.

“Oh hello, Norm, I didn’t see you there.”

Norm chuckled, “How could you not see me? I am the only other person here!”

“Sorry, I was just a little distracted.”

Norm smiled, “I see.  And you must be the young Janus.”

Janus
nodded.  He had heard of Norm before, but he had never met him.  He and Clara had been friends for many years, and he was the only other person in the slums Janus knew to possess an ID card.

Norm’s face became serious, and he turned to Clara, “Trouble?”

Clara swung her head towards Janus, “He’s being requested on the upper level.”

Norm’s face grew serious, “By whom?”

“Middleton,” Janus interjected.

Janus was surprised by the flash of panic that appeared in Norm’s eyes, but in an instant, it was gone.  Norm rubbed his chin thoughfully, “Did she know you had a son?”

Clara was flabbergasted, “She’s never asked.”  Her eyes searched the floor, “But I suppose she might have heard something from one of the other maids or Albert?”

“Hmmm, perhaps she is looking for a new servant, since you are so trustworthy?”

Clara was still troubled, but was relieved by the idea, “Maybe.”

“Do not let it trouble you Clara.  I suspect there is nothing to fear,” Norm smiled kindly.

Janus wasn’t so sure.

As the lift hummed to life beneath them, Clara and Norm shifted topics, their discussion ranging from where the best trash piles seemed to be falling to gossip that they had “overheard” during their shifts.

“How is your Overlord doing, Norm?”

“Alastor?  Oh, he has been a bit agitated recently, something regarding one of the other Overlords.  You know how it is – they are always at each other’s throats.  I think the Executors encourage it
.” He looked troubled, “Although I have heard rumors of another draft going to hit the slums soon.  The Overlords and Executors all seem more focused on their own power struggles now.”  He grimaced, “Their power is slipping.  The Corporations are weakening.”

They stopped at the highest factory level, picking up workers who were on the nightshift.  Even the walls of the station could not escape the pollution of the level, and had taken on a brownish tinge.  Clara and Norm pulled out handkerchiefs from their uniforms, tying them around their faces. She handed a spare to Janus, who mimicked them with a few simple ties.  Workers on the factory level were moderately skilled and could still do some things that the larger, facto
ry daedulus machines could not.  The factory workers, at least, had benefitted from the stagnation that seemed to be affecting Cerberus recently.  There were rumors it affected the other Corporations, as well.  And even if Cerberus was the best of all of them, Norm was right; Cerberus just didn’t seem to be as concerned with advancing itself or its industry very much anymore.  Daedulus development – the ‘intelligent’ machines that ran Cerberus – had stalled.  There were whole parts of Cerberus abandoned and forgotten.  Manufactories sat idle with technologies deemed irrelevant or forgotten.

The lift jolted to a start once more and Janus stared in wonder at the heavy machinery and rising city around him.

Norm nudged him, “Here, lad.  Put these on.”  He handed Janus a wraparound visor.  “I found these a while back.  Why anyone would have thrown them away is a mystery to me.”

Janus stared dumbfounded at the hideous slitted sunshade, “Er, thank you Norm.  What are these for?”

“Your eyes are unaccustomed to the sunlight; you will need them.”

Clara had turned to see what Norm had given Janus.  “Thank you, Norm.  Are you sure you don’t need those?”

“No, it is fine.  I think Janus is going to need them more than I ever did.  He has never been exposed to direct sunlight, has he?”

“No, he hasn’t.”  Clara looked worried, as if just realizing.

Janus gave Norm an irritated look, “I’ll be fine.”

Norm ignored him.  “Make sure you wear those whenever you are outside, otherwise your eyes might get damaged.  You should also cover up as much as you can, as you are sure to get burned if you stay out too long.”

“Thank you so much for your kindness, Norm,” Clara gave him a glowing smile.  Janus turned away, exasperated.

“Attacks have been stepping up lately,” Norm said quietly,
dropping his voice to but a whisper as the tired workers filed slowly onto the lift.  The lift departed again, and Janus perked his ears up, always eager to hear more about the world outside.  From the corner of his eye, he watched Clara lean in towards Norm, stealing a surreptitious glance at Janus.  “Why?  How many attacks have there been?”  Janus shifted his weight to place himself just a little closer.

The lift stopped on one of the military levels, letting off a group of repairmen.

“I have heard of at least ten.  Mostly just minor Cerberus territories.  The Overlords are blaming the Mercenary Legions, but it is rumored to be the work of one of the other Corporations.”

She
whistled, “Wow, there haven’t been that many attacks in a long time.”

“Yes, since
before the time you found Janus,” Norm said, biting his lip in worry.

Clara stared out at the city as the lift rose steadily.  The fog and smoke were slowly becoming brighter.  Streams of light cascaded from above.
  Absentmindedly, she turned to Janus, “We’re passing E-level.  H-level is next.”

She smiled at him and then turned back to Norm, resuming her
whisper, “I just hope that it doesn’t spill into the main city.  I’ve heard that can be horrific.”  Janus strained to hear.

Norm nodded solemnly, “Yes.  But for now, it is just a problem for the corporate Executors.  Hopefully though, the
Corporation will start looking for more soldiers soon.”

“I hope not.  I know you and I are safe from the draft, but Janus isn’t, and the last thing he needs is an opportunity to mouth off to a
Corporate official.”

“Yes, but don’t you want him to have more opportunity?  And there would be less people picking through the slums!”

“I don’t want him sacrificing himself for a Corporation that has done noth—”

Suddenly, the lift exploded through a layer of cloud and a blinding light cut her off.  Janus struggled to shield his eyes from it.

They had reached H-level.