Undercity (26 page)

XXII

Into the Light

I found Ruzik waiting in the Foyer by the archway that opened onto the Concourse. That was it. Only Ruzik. No one else.

He nodded to me, framed in the archway. Beyond him, the Concourse stretched away into the smoky air, a narrow lane fading into the haze.

A rustle came from a ledge above us. A girl swung into view and dropped next to Ruzik, landing easily on her feet. I recognized her as a member of his gang. She wore a large knife in a sheath on her leather belt. I didn’t want them coming armed, but if I told her to lose the blade, I had no doubt neither she nor Ruzik would come. Two people wasn’t many, but it was better than none.

Max,
I thought.
Is it noon?

Three minutes past
, he answered.

In the malleable time of the undercity, three minutes wasn’t much.
We’ll wait a bit more.

Ruzik and the girl stood together, looking at the Concourse. The scar patterns on their arms glinted in the misty light trickling through the archway. They stood close, every now and then one of them brushing the other, and I figured they were lovers. The aroma of frying spice-rolls drifted around us, coming from stalls on the Concourse. A calculating gleam appeared in the girl’s eyes. If I didn’t get moving soon, I was going to lose them when they went out prowling to filch spice-rolls.

I tried to contain my agitation. Surely someone else would come.

No one else was in sight anywhere, however, except for a vendor standing in the market stall closest to the archway. Mist hazed the other stalls. They probably had vendors as well, but I saw no customers, not this close to the exit.

Ruzik’s girlfriend stepped out into the Concourse, glancing around as if sizing up potential marks. When she turned back to Ruzik, he glowered at her. “Meat is better than spice,” he said.

She frowned, but she came back to rejoin him.

We should start for the Rec Center
, Max thought.
They won’t wait much longer.

Yah, it looks like it.
I stepped toward them, and the girl turned with a start, but her gaze went past my shoulder. When I followed her look, my pulse jumped.

Across the Foyer, a group was coming up the walkway from the undercity, the family with the father who wove those incredible tapestries. The mother was carrying the baby they had adopted and Pack Rat walked at her side, holding her hand. Their two daughters flanked their father, including the older girl in the Dust Knights. Nor was it only them. The three psions they nursed through the phorine withdrawal had also come, the youth and the two girls. The trio looked exhausted and emaciated, but they walked with a steady step.

Ruzik and his girlfriend joined me, watching the newcomers with unabashed fascination. The older girl in the phorine trio glowered at them.

The mother came over to me. “Heya.”

I nodded to her, a thanks for their coming. “We were just going.”

We all headed to the archway. I moved ahead to make sure I emerged from the haze first at this end of the Concourse. Lavinda knew we were coming, so no one should stop us, but we had no guarantees. I was wearing above-city clothes, nothing overt, but with an expensive cut that sent a message:
I belong here by your own rules.
I loathed the unwritten “rules” that forbade my people to walk the Concourse, but I knew how to use them.

“Wait,” a voice called behind us.

I turned to look. Someone was in the Foyer, hidden in shadows. Puzzled, I went through the group clustered behind me and under the archway. Digjan stood there in the Foyer, her gaze defiant, fierce in her torn black shirt, dark trousers, and a chain belt. A sheathed knife hung from a loop of her belt—and she gripped a laser carbine in one hand. The pinpoint light on its power unit shone with a full charge, casting blue light over the rocks. Hell and damnation. If Digjan walked out there with a carbine, all bets were off.

She glared at me, her gaze a challenge. “I come with.”

I hadn’t expected this. She had to be going through hell with the fighting and her mother. No one had found Dig’s body yet. Digjan’s presence was an act of trust, even given the carbine. I had to make a decision: let her bring the gun or tell her no. She wouldn’t come without her weapon, and if I turned her back, the others would probably leave as well. But the moment she stepped out there with stolen ISC property, all hell could break loose. I didn’t want anyone hurt, neither my people nor any Cries citizens.

I tapped on my gauntlet comm. I only had to wait a moment before a woman’s voice snapped into the air. “Colonel Majda here.”

Digjan stared at me in disbelief. Ruzik swore under his breath, but his girlfriend’s voice was perfectly distinct as she said, “What the fuck is she doing?”

“Colonel,” I said into my comm. “We’re coming out.”

“You’re late,” Lavinda said. “Is there a problem?”

I kept my gaze on Digjan as I spoke to Lavinda. “I need you to swear. I need your word that no one I bring will be arrested, detained, or penalized in any manner.”

“I’ve already given you my word,” Lavinda said.

“I want to make sure.” I never took my gaze off Digjan, who needed to hear this. “No matter what or who you see.”

Lavinda said, “You have my word, Major.”

I exhaled. “Good. We’re coming. Out here.” I tapped off the comm. Then I spoke to Digjan. “I need your word that you won’t threaten or shoot anyone.”

She scowled at me. “They attack, I protect us.”

“Yah,” I said. “But we made a bargain. They agreed no attack. You must agree, too.”

Her fist clenched the gun so tightly, her knuckles turned white. But she gave a brusque nod. “Agreed.” For one moment, her impassive mask slipped, revealing a hint of her fear and the anguish she hid. It lasted the barest second and then vanished, her expression once more unreadable.

I nodded to her as if I hadn’t seen, showing respect. We had a bargain. It was time to go.

But wait. Someone was coming up the path behind Dig, someone
large,
eight feet tall—no, it was two people, a small boy riding on a man’s shoulders, the two of them coming into the lamplight. Well, hell. It was Jak. He was carrying a boy of about five in tattered trousers and shirt, and another boy walked at his side, a fellow about nine or ten. The child on his shoulders laughed as Jak’s steps jostled him.

I smiled as Jak came up beside Digjan. “Heya,” I said. “Got babies.”

He reddened. “Not mine.”

“Not baby,” the older boy stated.

“They’re dust rats,” Digjan said. “They got no family.”

“Dust Knights,” Ruzik told her. “Not rats.”

I peered past Jak, but no one else was coming up the path. People might be hiding in the spaces that networked these walls, curious, but not enough to come into the open. Even so. We had sixteen people, more than I expected. And Jak! I grinned, and he scowled. He had no intention of letting anyone think he was soft, not the notorious Mean Jak, but that wouldn’t stop him from giving these boys a free meal.

“So,” I said. “We go.”

Ruzik’s girlfriend said, “Yah. Go together. Hold head high. This is
our
Concourse.”

I felt a curious sensation then, hearing her repeat my words, as if something moved inside of me. The others nodded, except for the mother holding the baby. She looked tired.

I went over to the mother and tilted my head at the baby. “I can carry her.”

With undisguised relief, she handed me the child. The baby gave an annoyed cry of protest and stared at me with large eyes. I wondered if she recognized me as the person who found her in the cave. Probably not. I had held babies in my youth, those of my friends, but it had been years. The infant gurgled and settled into the crook of my arm. Belatedly, I realized it would make a statement that the first person who walked out of the haze would be a woman carrying a child. That spoke to a woman’s power, a symbol of her authority among our peoples both above and below city. It also meant we came without threat, for we didn’t bring our children into danger. That I came dressed as someone from the above-city would also serve as protection for the infant.

It hit me then; our group was mostly children. Four adults, twelve kids. The police would look terrible if they moved against children who were simply taking a walk, even those forbidden to enter the Concourse. Good. It might help offset their reaction to Digjan and her damn laser carbine. Ruzik and his girlfriend hardly looked innocuous, either, especially with that dagger the girl wore. Ruzik undoubtedly also had one hidden on his person. Neither they nor Digjan had come to fight, but if they felt threatened, that could change. I hoped I was right about Lavinda, that she would keep her word.

Pack Rat was looking up at me. “Come with you,” he said.

I smiled at him. “You remember me?”

“Yah.” He jumped, mimicking one of my tykando moves.

I glanced at the mother. “Is okay?”

“Is good,” she said.

I offered my hand, but Pack Rat drew himself as if he were an adult, albeit a small one, and shook his head. I took a breath and walked under the archway. He stayed at my side, both of us stepping into the smoky haze that filled this end of the Concourse. I heard the others following, but I was too tense to turn and look, as if the act of my needing to see they came with us would be enough to make them leave.

Pack Rat gazed around with wide eyes at the market stalls clustering on either side. Tassels hung from their eaves. Streamers were wrapped around the poles that held up their canvas roofs or flapping in erratic gusts of air created by vents farther up the Concourse. Down here, the paltry currents weren’t enough to clear out the haze. Time and smoke had dimmed the stalls, fading their panels into dusty red hues.

The counters fronting the stalls were piled high with goods, most of it junk, but some worthwhile salvage. Vendors stood behind their goods, watching us. Most days they would be chattering, calling out to their rare customers or joshing each other. Today they just stared, grizzled men, burly women, and sellers too green to have stalls on better parts of the Concourse. The few pedestrians had stepped back between the stalls, giving us space. Everyone looked baffled. Nothing like this had happened before, that denizens of the undercity walked boldly into the light, coming
en masse,
or at least as much mass as sixteen people could muster. None of the vendors looked happy. Several tapped their wrist comms and spoke urgently to whoever they had contacted. Probably the police.

Just let us get there,
I thought.
Let us reach the Center without any trouble.

Was that directed at me?
Max asked.

No. I do have a something you can do, though.
I took the green beetle out of my jacket. I hadn’t brought my gun, jammer, or pack, nothing except this bot.
Connect me to the beetle. I want to see if Colonel Majda came.
I opened my hand and the bot soared away, into the air.

Connecting
, Max thought.

Suddenly I was seeing through the eyes of the beetle. I flew up the Concourse, close to the ceiling. I was aware of the alley where I was walking, but just barely. The scene I viewed as the beetle came through much more vividly, showing the Concourse three stories below.

Go closer to the Rec Center,
I thought.
That’s where Lavinda would be if she came.

I soared higher. The Concourse widened into a street and then a boulevard. Air currents flowed more strongly here. The haze thinned and the stalls brightened, yellow pavilions with blue tassels hanging from their eaves. Cafes appeared, at first no more than glorified stalls, but farther up they became fancier bistros. A few people were out walking, and others sat on the terraces of cafés, sipping kava. It was a low volume time. Many people slept at noon, given the forty hours of daylight on Raylicon, which was why I had chosen this time. No crowds, but it wasn’t night either, so the police wouldn’t think we were prowling around in the dark.

Farther up the Concourse, upscale clubs appeared. It was too early for nightlife, but a few young people congregated here. The Concourse was perfect for the younger crowds from Cries, just risqué enough for them to feel as if they were doing something illicit, though in truth it was perfectly safe. Above-city types rarely ventured off the Concourse, given all the warnings about the undercity. It was true, if they came to the aqueducts, they could get mugged. Rich kids sometimes risked it anyway. They thought it was exciting, a good story for their friends. The gangers just wanted them to go away, preferably without their belongings, especially any food, fresh water, tech-mech, or jewelry the muggers could sell on the black market. Every now and then you heard rumors of an affair between undercity and above-city lovers, but those never seemed to end well.

The Rec Center lay ahead. A long, low building the color of a pale sky, it stood bathed in the sunshine pouring through a skylight above the building. The tall doors were shut. Bad choice. If we made it this far, the closed entrance would look unwelcoming. Two cops were outside, both armed with carbines. Just lovely. Greet the people you asked to trust you with the same guns that had just devastated their home. Not that we were any better, with Digjan and the gangers coming armed.

No sign of Lavinda, though.
Try farther up,
I thought.

The Concourse continued to widen as I sailed onward, as large as two boulevards now. I wondered why they put the Rec Center in a place that was so inaccessible to the aqueducts. Probably because of its size. They would have done better to locate a smaller structure near the end of the Concourse. That was where the kids came out to prowl, like Ruzik and his girlfriend. They might actually hang out at the Center if it was easier to visit.

I found Colonel Majda
, Max thought.

Show me.

The bot backtracked to where several cafés lined the Concourse across from the Rec center, set on a terrace higher than the street. Lavinda was standing at a rail there with Chief Takkar and Major Duane Ebersole. The colonel’s bars glinted on the shoulders of Lavinda’s uniform, Duane wore his black trousers and shirt, and Takkar had on her usual police digs, with a pulse gun on her hip.