The Chimney: The Merc Papers

by G. T. Spoor

  The vir with the red beard stared at her with hatred, a hatred that was slowly replaced by a fiendish grin. That grin was replaced by a look of surprise, which was followed by… the sound of splintering wood. Something flew past Emily’s left ear and struck the side of the building, leaving a small, smoking hole. When she turned around, she found the jitney driver standing over the stocky vir. The orc had a broken piece of wood in his hand. The vir was sprawled out on the ground. A strange metal cylindrical device lay beside his outstretched hand.

  “Watch out.” The orc pointed behind her.

  Emily turned just as Red Beard lunged at her. He wasn’t ready to surrender yet as he came at her with a small knife in his left hand. It was a clumsy attack. Clearly the vir wasn’t ambidextrous. She easily avoided the blade, striking the man in the head with the metal rod. It wasn’t a hard blow, but it was enough to render him unconscious.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” the orc said.

  The goblin was already helping his companion out of the alley. He left the blond vir a bloody mess against the wall. Emily made a mental note: don’t piss off the goblins. She stopped beside Stocky to get a better look at the strange device the man was holding, but she had no idea what it was. It looked like a short metal tube with a thin trail of blue smoke rising out of one end. She didn’t dare touch it. Leaving the three vir behind, she exited the alley where the two goblins and their box of apples were nowhere in sight. The jitney was still across the street and the driver was waving frantically to her.

  “Come on, get in,” he shouted.

  Emily didn’t hesitate. She ran across the street and quickly climbed into the front seat. The orc slammed the vehicle into gear and pulled away from the curb. He took a left at the first intersection and cursed.

  “Char! Didn’t think they’d get the signal that quick,” he said. “Ya better get down.”

  Emily crouched down in the front seat as the driver slowed the jitney. She heard three vehicles rush past them. The orc took another corner and kept looking up at the mirror. He drove a few more blocks before he relaxed and started to laugh.

  “That was too close,” he said. “Ya can get up now.”

  Slowly, Emily returned to her seat. She was still holding the two metal rods. The orc looked over at her and shook his head.

  “Ya not from around here—are ya?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Well. Yeah. I mean, nobody in their right mind goes out of their way ta help a couple of goblins, especially against Mercs.”

  “Mercs?” She looked back over her shoulder. “Those were Mercs?”

  “Blue Tigers. District seven’s finest. What were ya thinkin’, anyhow?”

  “They were going to kill that goblin.”

  “Yeah, they probably would have.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Of course not, but I kind of got used ta breathin’.”

  “But if they were Mercs, aren’t they supposed to protect the citizens?”

  The orc slowly turned his head and looked at her in disbelief.

  “Char, ma,” he said. “Ya really aren’t from around here. The only race Mercs care about are the vir. They couldn’t care less about goblins or even us orcs for that matter.”

  “But that’s not right.”

  “Depends on who ya ask. There’s an unwritten hierarchy in the Chimney.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “Then ya know, goblins are on the very bottom. Ya can’t get much lower than goblins. Ya see, it goes like this. On the top ya got ya vir. Beneath that ya got ya dowers, ya elves, maybe even ya howne and ya gnoma, assuming they don’t cause no trouble. After that, I guess that’s where we come in, the orcs that is. Beneath us, there’s the ogres, then the trolls, and finally the goblins.”

  “I guess I’m really out of my element. Where I grew up, there wasn’t this much hatred.”

  “Ya lived with orcs, did ya?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do ya know?”

  The simple question caught her off guard. How did her people feel about orcs? She would like to believe they would have been treated as equals back home, but then she wasn’t so sure. When she saw Gujjab on the tube, her first thought was that he was a savage, warlike creature, because that’s what she was taught. How many other lessons did she learn that were clouded by prejudices?

  “Hey. It’s all right ya know. It doesn’t matter,” the orc said, clearly seeing her distress. “I know the old history. My kind and yer kind, we never really got along. It’s the nature of the beast I guess. Now we all stuck in this here city, we just gotta deal with it, ya know? Me. I keep my head down, try not to make too many waves, especially with the Blue Tigers. Ya don’t want ta be messing with the Tigers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, people, they have a habit of disappearing around the Mercs. Ya know? Ya saw that funny device fatty had in his hand. That’s one of Mana-Tech’s little toys.”

  “Mana-Tech? You mean the company that makes the transit tubes?”

  “That’s where they started, yeah, but Mana-Tech is expanding. They made this here jitney and now they’re getting into weapons. Blue Tigers have an in with the company for as long as I can remember. Those there sticks ya got, those tyngs, that’s some of their work.”

  Emily looked down at the two metal rods. They seemed unremarkable. She thought they were collapsible, but they each appeared to be made from a single piece of metal.

  “I’d get rid of them if I was ya,” the orc said. “It’ll only get ya into more trouble. I’ve seen what some of those Mana-Tech weapons can do, and it ain’t pretty.”

  She looked back over her shoulder.

  “Do you think those two goblins are all right? Maybe we should go back and find them.”

  The orc laughed.

  “I ain’t going back there until the heat dies down, that’s for one thing. As for those goblins, they’re resilient. They ain’t called rock vermin for nothin’. Those two will be patched up and ready for work by tomorrow mornin’. I’d bet my jitney on it.”

  “Heat? What heat?”

  “Heat. You know, the Mercs. Fatty must have sent a signal back ta quarters, that’s where those hot-tops were coming from. We got out just in time. I don’t think they got a gander at me, but you should probably keep it scarce. For your sake as well as theirs. Never saw anyone take on three Mercs and walk away unscathed.”

  Emily looked down at the rods again.

  “It was the right thing to do,” she said, although she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince the orc or herself. She did, however, manage to break the first tenet—again. Abstain from causing harm. How hard could it be to honor that simple idea? But how could she have helped those goblins otherwise?

  “Right or wrong, ya showed them. Clearly you can take care of ya self. What’s ya name, anyhow?”

  “Emily. Emily Doyle.”

  “Well, it’s good ta meet ya, Emily. The names Targhed, but most people just call me Tar. So, Emily, where can I drop ya?”

  Drop her? That’s right. She was in a jitney.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any money on me.”

  Tar shrugged. “No problems. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Well then, can you take me to the transit station?”

  “Sure thing. Which one?”

  “I’m not really sure.”

  “Well then, that can be a problem. There a four transit stations in this district alone, another two in the next district, and three more in district six.”

  Emily tried to remember the large bold letters written across the front of the building. Transit station number…

  “Eight,” she shouted. “It was transit station number eight.”

  There was a moment of silence before Tar shook his head.

  “There’s no transit station number eight, at least not on this level.”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t look to see what it was
when I got off.”

  “Well, what level did ya start on?”

  “Nine.”

  “Nine, huh?” Tar thought for a moment, then took the next left. “You’ll be wanting station twenty-six.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. I’ve been drivin’ these streets longer than ya be breathin’ air. There ain’t a side street or an alley I haven’t been on.”

  “Have you ever heard of Galbassi Lane?”

  “Galbassi Lane?” His mouth twisted. “Can’t say I have.”

  “It’s supposed to be near Robin’s Square.”

  “Robin’s Square? Ain’t no Robin’s Square around here.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “I’m not followin’.”

  “I got careless.”

  “You? Careless?” He laughed.

  “It’s not like that,” Emily said. She leaned back and stared up at the roof of the jitney. “Somebody led me into a trap, and I walked into it blindly.”

  “What happened, if ya don’t mind me askin’?”

  She told him about how Brian, a person she didn’t know, managed to convince her she was going to the wrong place and set her up to be kidnapped. She even went on to tell him about her harrowing escape from the slavers and how the Mercs wouldn’t lift a finger to help her. Tar listened to the whole story without interrupting. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. It wasn’t until she finished did she realize they had stopped moving.

  Emily looked out the jitney’s window at the large building with “Transit station twenty-six” written across the front of it.

  “Ya not taking the next airship out, are ya?” Tar asked.

  She smiled. “I have some unfinished business.”

  “That’s kinda what I figured. So where are ya headin’?”

  “The alley where I was ambushed. It’s a couple of blocks up.”

  “Why didn’t ya say so?” Tar pulled away from the curb and proceeded slowly up the street. “Call out when ya see it.”

  It was only about four blocks and Emily recognized the narrow entrance.

  “That’s it, right there,” she said.

  The jitney rolled to a stop and Tar leaned over the steering wheel to study the area. His face darkened.

  “Figures,” he said. “Couldn’t pick a better place. Alley leads ta a courtyard. Only one way out. Place is completely closed in. The surrounding buildings were burned down and boarded up in thirty-eight when a fire tore through here. Killed over a hundred and fifty orcs. Merc says it was an accident, but we knew better.”

  “You know a lot about the history of New Doral.”

  Tar snorted. “Not all of it. I know what I know and nothin’ more than that.”

  “You know about this place.”

  “Should. Lived here for a spell.”

  He got out of the jitney and followed Emily into the alley. She stopped right before entering the courtyard. This time she had a good look around, studying all the shadows to make sure none of them were moving. Only when she was sure they were alone, did she proceed farther but stopped when she noticed Tar was no longer following her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I used to live right there.” He pointed to a window on the fourth floor. The glass was shattered and the opening was surrounded by thick black smoke stains. “I haven’t been back here in ages.”

  “What happened?”

  Tar shook his head. “What always happens—they drove us out.”

  “Who did?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He kicked a small can across the courtyard, then looked around the alley. “So, why are we here?”

  Emily knew a subject change when she heard one and decided not to press the issue. Instead, she centered herself in the middle of the courtyard. “This was where I was attacked,” she explained. “One man blocked our exit. Another stood in the shadows.”

  While relaying the story to Tar, she mentally marked the location of each attacker. There was only the two of them, at least that’s what she thought at the time: the man in the hoodie, who she now believed was named Tyrer, and of course Nok. She carefully played out the events in her mind. Where they were standing, where she was standing, and of course, most importantly, where Brian was standing. That was her mistake. She was naive and turned her back on the steward. Where she thought she was protecting him, she was only giving him an opening.

  Emily searched the ground around where she fell. She hoped to find something that might give her an idea of who she was dealing with. She found a small thin piece of metal. Although it could have been pretty much anything, it looked like the end of a needle. She carefully picked it up. There was no telling how long it had been there or if it had anything to do with Brian and her abductors, but it was clearly out of place among the debris. Checking her pockets, she pulled out one of the handkerchiefs Sarah insisted she take with her. For some reason, Sarah believed that it was an essential piece of equipment for women. She wrapped it around the small piece of metal before slipping it back into her pocket.

  “Find what ya lookin’ for?” Tar asked

  “I don’t know,” Emily answered. “It’s probably nothing, or it could be how the poison was delivered.”

  “Well then, if ya finished, let’s get ya back ta the lift station. The quicker you’re out of Blue Tiger territory, the happier I’ll be.”

  Tar seemed more interested in getting out of the courtyard than anything else. He was already in the jitney waiting for her by the time she reached the streets. Emily climbed into the front seat as he pulled away from the curb. They drove a little way in silence, and she could see the visit to his old haunts had bothered him.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  Tar shrugged. “Nothin’ to talk about.”

  “You said you knew who set the fire.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It happen’ ages ago. Nothin’ anyone can do about it now.”

  “You listened to my story. The least I can do is listen to yours.”

  He laughed. “Fine. The people who started the fire, they called themselves the Tukarona.”

  “The Tukarona?”

  “It’s an old orcish myth. Something parents tell their kids ta keep them in line. Behave or the Tukarona will get you.”

  “Are you saying orcs set the fire?”

  “No. They weren’t orcs. They were vir. The name was a joke. They steal our language and our culture and then they use it ta oppress us.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not surprised. No offense, but ya hardly an orc.”

  “So then tell me. What happened?”

  “It’s as I said. It happened ages ago. I was young about maybe five or six. We used ta live down on level sixteen, my family that is. It was my father, my mother, my gram, my three brothers, and my two sisters.”

  “Large family,” Emily remarked.

  “You could say that. Smaller than most, though. My gram was the one who sat me down and told me the story when I was old enough to understand. Ya see, it’s difficult to move up, especially if you’re an orc. Orcs aren’t welcome near the upper nine. There were several attempts but no success. Hardest part was covering the cost. That’s why a group of orcs from different clans got together. Each of the families contributed ta a single fund. The chiefs hired a vir lawyer to file the papers for the permits ta purchase the land. He took his fair share of the savings but managed to get those buildings you saw. Nobody was the wiser until we moved in. That’s when the trouble started. They protested our arrival. Demanded we move out. They didn’t want our kind in their neighborhood. But we were determined to stay.

  “We had apartment 407. By yod, it was small—two bedrooms, one bath, but it was the highest any orc had reached in the Chimney. My father wanted ta move us ta a bigger place, so he started working nights as well as days. During the days he drove this here jitney. At night, a janitor in one of the wareho
uses. All we had ta do was stick it out for ten years, then we could legally live wherever we wanted on this level. That was the law. Until then, we were stuck in that small apartment.

  “Then came the night of the fire. I remember my gram coming into the room, waking us up. I was the youngest and so she just grabbed me out of bed and carried me out into the hall. The place was filled with smoke. We tried ta get to the first floor, but the ones coming up told us the doors were locked. Some broke the windows ta get out, but the Tukarona were waiting for them. They would drag them into the courtyard, beat them with clubs, then throw them back into the fire ta watch them burn. It didn’t take long before the fire spread. With nowhere else to go, we tried to get above the flames. We were running back up the stairs to the third floor. Gram and I were in front, when my brother, Kodigar, pushed us. She fell forward as the stairs collapsed. I still remember the look on my brother’s face when he fell into the fire. If he hadn’t pushed us, we would have died too.”

  “How did you manage to get out?” Emily asked.

  “My gram,” Tar answered. “With nowhere else to go, she held me tight and jumped out of a third-story window. She never walked again after that. If it wasn’t for her and Kodigar, I wouldn’t be here boring you with this story.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “As I said, it happened ages ago.”

  “So, only you and your grandmother survived?”

  “And my father. He was working in the warehouse at the time. We moved down to level thirteen where one of the clans took us in. A few of the survivors hired the Blue Tigers to investigate, but of course, they didn’t find nothin’. Labeled it an accident. So my father and a few of the other orcs got together and… well… sought a little orcish justice, but there is no justice for orcs in the Chimney. They were arrested… and executed.”

  “I’m sorry, Tar. I know what it’s like to lose a family.”

  “We survive. That’s the only thing we can do. If we give up, we dishonor their memories.” Tar slowed the jitney. “You better get down again. We’re about ta pass your crime scene.”