by Rick Johnson
Angry and bewildered, her mind worked furiously on different escape ideas. But, with beasts clogging the stairs, elbows swinging, and bigger beasts shoving past smaller ones, she found it hard to think. It took a lot of energy just to keep from being stepped on or elbowed in the ribs. For now, she gave up the effort to think. Escape seemed hopeless until she knew more about the place. She’d watch and wait for an opportunity.
Climbing the stairs required quick learning. Some beasts were literally hurtling up or down the stairs, running, and when they saw an opening, leaping. Everyone tried to pass slower beasts, jockeying for position, sqeezing through openings to gain a few steps. It was hideously hot and the smell of every grade of sweat permeated everything. The incessant noise now included a constant flow of cursing as beasts trapped behind slower walkers blew their tops. By the time she’d been on the stairs five minutes, Tē’d’Tē’s mind and senses felt numb.
Not knowing the flat system, she touched the sleeve of a Hare climbing the stairs just ahead of her. “Where will I find Flat Number 9CC437T99?” she asked.
The Hare turned her head slightly to look at Tē’d’Tē, but kept climbing. Long, well-oiled dark hair was knotted at the back of her head. She wore an elegant red jacket with matching trousers, unlike the more common dress of many beasts on the stairs. A wide lizard skin belt with a silver buckle held her pants up. Perhaps two dozen tiny silver bottles hung from the belt, tinkling like small bells.
“Ninth floor,” she replied in answer to Tē’d’Tē’s question. “New Noob, huh?”
“Noob?” Tē’d’Tē asked.
“You don’t know what’s going on,” the Hare chuckled. “You’re a Noob—any beast can see that. A Noob is any newcomer or anyone who is not yet a Groomie. Ninth floor is a Noob level.”
“Yes, just arrived—don’t know anything except my flat number,” the Weasel answered.
“Well, first thing to know,” the Hare said, “is that 9th floor is actually the 109th floor.”
“The 109th floor!” Tē’d’Tē exclaimed. “I’m supposed to walk up there?”
“What do you think?” the Hare replied. “Look, I’m Currie, and this is Mutt-6049, but everyone calls her Knuckles. She nodded her head at a Wolverine walking beside her. Knuckles was a few inches shorter than Tē’d’Tē, but looked strong enough to pulverize rocks with her fingers. With six silver hooks hanging from each ear, and three more from her nose, the intimidating effect was complete. As if on cue, she cracked her knuckles loudly, sounding like a succession of small explosions going off.
Seeing Tē’d’Tē’s surprised look, Currie said, “Don’t mind Knuckles—she’s a show-off. It’s part of her job. I manage a shim shop, and she’s my bouncer. She’s a little strange in the head—into that Old Kin stuff—but she’s all right. I can count on her to bust heads with the best. And she’s useful on the stairs. Come on, I’ll show you. Muscle us through, Knuckles.”
Surging forward, Knuckles pushed her way through the tightly packed stair climbers, weaving and swerving to gain position. Currie and Tē’d’Tē followed through the openings Knuckles created. Slower beasts, so weary they could barely lift their legs from step to step, were simply shoved aside.
Despite her dislike of Knuckles’s tactics, Tē’d’Tē decided to take a chance on her new acquaintances. It was the first friendly contact she’d had, and she desperately needed information. Stepping into the opening Knuckles created by muscling aside other beasts, Tē’d’Tē moved next to Currie and started asking questions.
“Everyone walks?” the Weasel asked, feeling a little winded. She marveled at how fast they could move with Knuckles clearing a path. Watching the Wolverine elbow tired beasts out of the way, nearly made Tē’d’Tē’s temper flare. She held her anger in check, however. “Probably not a good time to create a riot,” she thought, “better to learn as much as I can, then start making real trouble.”
“Only the Silvers and Preens use the upleaps,” Currie explained, “the rest of us walk. Noob levels are at the top. You being the newest of the new, are at the very top. Noobs on the top levels, Groomies in the middle, and Mades on the bottom levels. That’s the way housing works here—and most other things, as well. All the housing towers are the same.”
“Well, at least the view must be nice from way up there,” Tē’d’Tē sighed.
“There’s no view,” the Hare replied. “The Silvers and Preens get the view. You’ll see—the upper floors are just hallways full of tiny flats, big enough for two or three beasts, packed in as tight as can be. The inner ring, that’s the interior of the tower, is worker housing. No windows—just a solid, soundproof wall separating us from the Silvers and Preens. Their villas are on the outside ring of the tower, on the upper floors. Their shops, restaurants, and entertainment are below them. Everything for workers is on the inner ring.”
Tē’d’Tē’s head was spinning. “You mean there’s no windows? No views to the outside?”
“Yep, that’s pretty much it,” the Hare said. “Silverpreen is designed to keep us out of sight. The only time the Silvers and Preens see us is when we work for them, or we’ve got enough preen to go a few places they also go. They like their privacy, and—well, we’re not exactly what they consider beautiful. They really don’t want to see us.”
“I’m beginning to get it,” Tē’d’Tē said. “We move underground, stay inside, go up the stairways, and never go anywhere the Silvers and Preens go. Right?”
“That’s it,” Currie replied. “Get used to it, and you’ll do fine here.”
Tē’d’Tē walked along in silence for several mintues. She was angry, frustrated, and wanted to start punching things. For the first time in memory, she had no idea what to do. For a Weasel used to being active, creative, and able to get herself out of trouble, it was frustrating. But she was completely stumped at the moment. Stuck. “Well, first things first,” she thought.
“So, Currie,” she said, “I still don’t know where I work, how to get food, or anything. Can you fill me in on those small details?”
“I’m sure your Bison Guides told you when to meet them,” the Hare replied. “Do it and don’t be late. They’ll take you to your work. Once there, do as you’re told and don’t be late. That’s pretty much it, so far as work is concerned.”
“What kind of work do we do?” Tē’d’Tē asked.
“Whatever we’re told, which means whatever the Silvers and Preens want,” Currie said. “I started out washing dishes in a café, and now I manage a shim shop. You start out doing something as a Noob, and if you do well and build up some preen, you might be selected for further grooming—like me and Knuckles. We’re Groomies.”
“Never heard of a shim shop,” Tē’d’Tē said, “what’s that?”
“These are shims,” Currie said, fingering the small silver bottles hanging from her belt. “My shop is the only place you can get water that comes from Shimmering Spring in the Deep Silver. It’s the most amazing thing—water that comes from way down in the silver mines. It’s actually run across the silver, right in the mine!”
“Water?” the Weasel asked, “plain water? That’s all it is?”
“It’s not just plain water!” Currie replied with a look of disdain. “Where else can you get water from the Deep Silver that actually has run through and over silver for eons? That’s what makes it so precious. The only way to get it is in my shim shop.”
“What if I just got one of those little silver bottles and filled it with regular water?” Tē’d’Tē said. “No one would know the difference.”
“But you wouldn’t accumulate preen doing that,” Currie said. “You’ve got to get it in shim bottles, if you want to build your preen. That’s why I carry bottles at my belt—lets everyone know I’ve got preen. Bosses like to see that. The only way you’ll get into the Made level is if you show a lot of preen. Mades get close to the Silvers and Preens and you can’t do that without showing a lot of preen.”
“Preen! Preen! P
reen! YAAAK—is that all you can think about?” Tē’d’Tē exploded. “I’m sick of hearing about it!”
“If you want to walk to the top of this tower every day for the rest of your life, just keep thinking like that,” Currie said sadly. Kunckles cracked loudly in agreement. “Look, Weasel, one of the longest journeys in the world is from being a dishwasher to managing slaving for a Silver—that’s what I want to do when I’m a Made. And I’m more than halfway there. I’m going to live in a nice cottage on Slip Pockets Ranch, or another place like that, and make sure that the slave and trallé accounts balance. By then, I’ll dress like the Silvers and Preens, talk like them, and think like them—and all that is because of preen.” The Hare turned her head and looked directly at Tē’d’Tē as they walked. “Look, Weasel, listen to me. I know this place. I know how to make it. You stick with me, and you’ll be all right. Look at me. Read my eyes. Tell me that I’m joking, if you can.”
“All right, all right,” Tē’d’Tē muttered with disgust. “I know you’re serious. So who are these Silvers and Preens you’re always talking about?” she scowled.
“Silverpreen is built on wealth,” Currie explained, “silver mining and selling preen—that’s the expensive stuff the fancy beasts buy. Silvers are the rich beasts who’ve made their money in mining silver and controlling others with it. Preens are those that grew wealthy selling expensive stuff to the fancies.”
“Where to the Owners fit in?” Tē’d’Tē asked.
“Owners are the tippity-top few who actually own everything,” Currie said. “Some of the Silvers and Preens are Owners, but most aren’t. The Preen I work for “owns” a bunch of cafés and shops, but he’s deeply in debt to Owner Three. Owner Three owns Slip Pocket Ranch and most of Silverpreen’s east-west-east-north-north sector, and pretty much controls anybody doing business in that part of town.”
Tē’d’Tē growled darkly. “Do workers get paid? Do we ever get out of here?” she asked.
“Sure!” the Hare replied enthusiastically. “That’s why it’s a great system! I actually love it here.”
“You love it here?” Tē’d’Tē exclaimed. “Why? Are you crazy?”
“Hey, I know it looks a little strange to a Noob, but once you see how things work, you’ll come around. Just about every Noob starts out thinking like you and they all come to like it here,” Currie said.
“What’s to like?” Tē’d’Tē snorted.
“You asked how we get paid,” Currie said, “so let’s take that. We get paid in time and preen.”
“Time and preen?” the Weasel growled. “What do I need with time and preen?”
“Just how long do you think it takes to walk to the 109th floor?” the Hare asked.
“I have no idea,” Tē’d’Tē answered, “but my legs are already telling me it’s a long way.”
“The average time is one hour and thirty minutes, one way,” Currie replied. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape. I’m guessing you’ll make at least an average run. So, let’s call it three hours a day, round trip, give or take a bit. But there’s a lot of beasts who can’t do it in less than three hours, one-way, sometimes four.”
“And this is how we get paid?” Tē’d’Tē asked.
“Do your work as you’re told and you’ll make a good impression,” Currie replied, smiling. “Keep it up long enough, and you’ll get new housing lower down the tower. I made the Groomie level in eight years. Now my round trip on the stairs is an hour. The Preen who owns my shim shop says that I can probably break into the Made levels in another five years. The best Made level is only ten minutes, one-way. And, like I said, I’m hoping to get out of Silverpreen altogether when I make it into the Mades.”
“I get it,” Tē’d’Tē said, shaking her head. “You make the Silvers and Preens happy, and you get a little of your life back.”
“Isn’t that great?” Currie said. “When you’re a Noob, there’s hardly any time to do anything but work, eat, and sleep. But now that I’m a Groomie, I can really start getting some preen.”
“You said we get paid in time and preen,” Tē’d’Tē said, puffing. “I get the time, what’s preen got to do with it?”
“That’s the greatest part,” Currie laughed. “Your flat number gets you everything free! We don’t pay for food, housing, entertainment, or preen—it’s all free to workers. We just give our flat number and get it all free!”
“It’s all free?” the Weasel asked suspiciously.
“Completely free!” the Hare chuckled. “All the food you can eat, all the preen you can carry.”
“So where do we get all this free stuff?” Tē’d’Tē asked.
“That’s why you don’t want to stay a Noob,” Currie explained. “There’s so many Noobs, that most of the Noob levels are taken up just with flats. Doesn’t leave much room for the finer things. All the Noob levels have is small cafés, mug-houses, and a few hallway vendors. Noobs are welcome on the Groomie and Made levels, but most Noobs don’t go there—adds to much time to their stair climbing. That’s why you want to do well and get out of the Noobs as soon as you can. Now, I’m a Groomie and have more time to get better eats and mugs. With a little bigger place, I’ve also got room for preen. And showing you like preen, and are trying to accumulate it, is one of the things bosses most want to see. That helps you get promoted.”
“How do they know how much you have,” Tē’d’Tē snorted. “Do they come around and inspect you flat?”
“All the preen you get sticks to your flat number,” Currie explained. “They know every bit of preen you accumulate. The top twenty percent of preen accumulators are eligible for the Made level, but only half of them get selected. Groomies are selected from the top fifty percent of preen accumulators—but again, only a third of those eligible get selected. If you ever want out of the Noob level, you’ve got to do well in your job and get all the preen you can.”
“And I see the system is stacked so it’s hard for Noobs to do that,” Tē’d’Tē observed.
“There’s ways to beat the odds,” Currie smiled. “Make friends with Groomies as much as you can. Take me, for example. If I like you—which I’m considering right now, by the way—I can help you start accumulating preen.”
“And how will you do that?” Tē’d’Tē asked.
“I’ll take you to the trallé races or to watch the dragon breaking. That’s one of the easiest ways for you to start getting preen. When you go to those events and bet on the trallés or the dragon busters, you get rings or hooks. If your bet wins, you get double or even triple rings or hooks. That’s how Knuckles got the hooks she wears—and she’s got plenty more. Look at the Noobs on the steps—you see lots of them wearing hooks and rings. That’s preen their accumulating,” Currie said excitedly. “That’s how you get started when you don’t have much time and your flat is tiny. Later on, when you make Groomie, you have more time and a bigger place.”
The Hare slapped Tē’d’Tē on the back. “Well, friend—we’re almost at my level. The best thing you can do, is come home with me tonight. Nobody’s there but Knuckles and me. I’ll take you to the trallé races tonight. You’ll get your first preen and see a bit of the local action. Not bad for a Noob on her first day.”
“All right,” Tē’d’Tē replied. “I’d like to see more of this place. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Currie said. “We’ll be out late. Staying with me will save you a trip up to your flat. You can check it out tomorrow after work. That’s the way it goes when Groomies help out Noobs.”
As Knuckles pushed and shoved, breaking a path through the traffic to reach the exit door, Currie said, “One more piece of advice, friend. From now on, try to make friends with all the Groomies and Mades you can. If we like you, we’ll help you.” Giving Tē’d’Tē a cunning look, she added, “And if we don’t like you, you’ll never be more than a Noob. You need us more than we need to help you. Think about what that means, and be grateful.”
Tē’d’
Tē did not reply, struggling to keep her simmering anger in check. She wanted to give the insolent, insulting Hare a whack across the face. But still being completely bewildered by Silverpreen, she kept her fist in her pocket.
“Who are the Mades?” she asked.
“Mades have all the best jobs. They get the best housing, have the most preen, and sometimes get to work away from Silverpreen, like at the ranches.”
“What happens if I just say, ‘No, I’m not interested is this stupid system?’ What if I just get people complaining so much it has to change?” Tē’d’Tē growled.
“You’ll be a Leap-Bug so fast your head will spin,” Currie replied. Knuckles cracked his knuckles in agreement. “And if that doesn’t stop you, the Skull Buzzards will slam you into Tilk Duraow.”
“What’s a Leap-Bug?” she asked.
“Leapups are lifts that carry the Silvers and Preens to their homes and shops,” Currie explained. “Leap-Bugs are the beasts that provide the power to run the leaps—and all the other power this place needs to operate.”
“What do Leap-Bugs do?” Tē’d’Tē said.
Currie shook her head sadly. “Ah, it’s a terrible job, terrible. You surely don’t want to end up there. Under Silverpreen there are hundreds of giant vertical treadmills—more like long chains of steps. Leap-Bugs endlessly walk the treadmills. That’s all they do—all they will ever do. Live underground and walk without making any progress. That’s why they’re called Leap-Bugs.”
“They stay there forever?” Tē’d’Tē snarled.
“Yeah, forever,” Currie said coldly. Knuckles cracked for emphasis. “Reject Silverpreen, and it rejects you.”
Not wanting to make an enemy out of the Hare and Wolverine—at least not yet—Tē’d’Tē changed the subject.
“So, Knuckles,” she said, speaking to the Wolverine directly for the first time. “Tell me about this Old Kin thing you’re into.”
