The Phoenix Fallacy_Book II_Norm

by Jon Sourbeer,

  Janus checked the sky above, the hazy mist of the factory levels was getting darker by the second. “We need to hurry, the gates will be closing soon.”

  “How can you tell down here?” Marcus asked skeptically.

  “You live here, you get used to the time. It’s always dark, but by observing the small changes in the color of the steam and smoke rising from the factory levels, a person can vaguely determine the hour.” He stopped at another pile of garbage, rooting around. He continued talking as he searched. “It isn’t much, but it helps keep the slums orientated to the same time as the rest of the world. Slummers who do manage to work have to work on the schedule that the higher levels give them, which usually means working during the standard day. The sun sets early for everyone below H-level, which means that more lights stay on in the lower levels. As people go to sleep and leave work, the lights dwindle, making it darker and darker in the slums.”

  “So shouldn’t we be hurrying, Janus?” Lyn asked.

  “In a moment,” he replied, scrambling a little further up the pile. “Around 2200 hours, the slums get their darkest until about 0400 hours. The lights go on, the sun eventually rises, making the steam and smoke a dull grey about at 1100 hours, depending on the time of year. It sets again at about 1500 hours, and another day cycle passes. The slummers have gotten used to it. Usually in the sub-communities, a few time-keepers are responsible for keeping track for the rest of the community. It’s an important job, as the slummers rely on keeping up with the higher levels for their very survival.” Janus paused on top of the trash heap, letting out an ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a couple of old loafs of bread from the pile. They were in surprisingly good condition. He turned to look at the group triumphantly – the group collectively looked at him like he was mad.

  He smiled at them, tossing a loaf down to Rogers. “Stuff that somewhere it can be easily found.” Rogers caught the loaf and stuffed it into his raggedy clothes without question. Marcus gave Janus a skeptical glance, “Are you sure you didn’t breathe the fumes from that trash pile too deeply?”

  Janus shook his head, “Just trust me.”

  “But what about Styx?” Celes asked.

  Janus turned and pointed from the top of the trash pile. The group hastily made their way to the top. Below, nestled between four gargantuan Cerberus buildings, was a ramshackle gathering. “There it is,” Janus said simply. Two enormous gates made of an amalgamation of wood, sheet metal, and other assorted materials, stood between them and the community. “Let’s go,” Janus said, “they’re closing the gates, and I would rather not stay the night out here if I can help it.”

  A few straggling slummers were hurrying to get through the Southern gate when Janus reached it.

  The two guards protecting the gate were brutish fellows, heavily muscled, hefting old and patched together Zeus rifles with sharp bayonets over their shoulders. Tattoos like sleeves ran up the left guard’s arms. The right was missing an eye, a nasty scar evident around the edges of the hard metal patch he wore. The weapons, like the men holding them, relied more on intimidation than anything else.

  “Hey, ya! Stop there,” the tattooed man said. Janus stopped immediately, looking furtively at the two men. “Yes?” he asked timidly.

  “Ya’ not from around here – ya can’t just walk into the Styx. We gotta check ya,” The second man added.

  Janus took a few uncertain steps back, his eyes darting back and forth between the two guards.

  “What’cha hidin’? Com‘ere, ‘fish,” That tattooed man brought his weapon off his shoulder.

  Janus glanced furtively at a bulge just in the folds of his clothes and said, “Nothin’.”

  The guard grabbed Janus roughly, and yanked the bulge out, throwing Janus to the ground.

  “Ho ho, look at what we got, Pots!” The tattooed man exclaimed, holding his prize up, “Bread! And it looks fresh.”

  Pots smiled, his good eye glinting, “Nice, Fin. What ‘bout the rest of ya, don’t make me use this ‘ere gun,” he glanced at the group menacingly, patting his patchwork weapon.

  On cue, the two groups split, revealing a shaking Rogers, who glanced around looking like he had been betrayed. Janus had to bite his hand to prevent himself from laughing – fortunately, Pots and Fin had moved swiftly past him.

  The pair swiftly snatched the second loaf from Rogers, who handed it over with a dejected look upon his face. Pots laughed, “See’, didn’t cost much – go on,” he motioned his head through the gate.

  Janus marched the group swiftly through, as Fin and Pots joked behind them and closed the gate.

  “You picked that up quickly, Captain,” Janus said to Rogers as they moved out of earshot of the two burly guards.

  “Quite the actor, sir,” Bravos said with a smile.

  “He was part of a theater troupe that toured Hydra when he was younger,” Raleigh whispered.

  Janus and the team glanced at Rogers in surprise.

  “I thought I told you never to mention that to anyone,” Rogers’ eyes narrowed at Raleigh.

  “Oh, yes, that’s right – sorry, sir,” Raleigh apologized, “I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

  “And now?” Lyn asked – struggling not to laugh at the mischievous grin on Raleigh’s face.

  “Now, we go to find Norm,” Janus said seriously.

  Chapter 23: Styx

  Styx was a mix of civilization and anarchy. A main thoroughfare led straight from the gate, with peddlers and tradesmen hocking wares in barter all along the road. Occasionally, a head peered out from the ramshackle buildings that haphazardly climbed up the sides of the superscrapers supporting them, like vines up a tree. A few unlucky souls shivered in the streets, demonstrating that wealth was always a relative term. Janus turned to lead them through the shantytown, but thought better for a moment and turned back, “Oh, and watch yourselves. The rule is that if you don’t miss something when you first lose it, you probably didn’t need it – and you’d be surprised at how good these people are at taking things off of you. Don’t underestimate them – most of them aren’t as thick as our two guards.”

  “Do you really think any of these people would be able to sneak something off of us, Janus?” Townes asked, with a look of disbelief.

  Janus jumped forward and grabbed a young boy sliding away from the Adept by his shirt. He pulled the child in front of him. The boy was guiltily holding a variable grenade, fiddling with it, clearly unsure of its purpose. Janus snatched it from his hand before the boy could push the button to activate the grenade at its maximum setting. Rogers gave Townes a bemused expression.

  “Don’t forget—” Janus said.

  “Pride can kill you,” Rogers finished, and Janus nodded solemnly.

  Janus walked the group through the streets – there was little need to hurry now. Haste would simply get them noticed.

  “They don’t look like they could get any taller without collapsing,” Bravos said wonderingly of the listing buildings as they made their way down a narrow alley.

  The tiny city was both a tragedy and a triumph. Tiny stalls, sometimes filled with surprisingly valuable trinkets and tools, lined the avenue. The little party looked at the items in amazement.

  “You’d be surprised what some people throw away, and how well some things can be fixed up in the right hands,” Janus said with a hint of pride. “Slummers may be poor, but we’re surprisingly hearty.”

  A few children could be seen playing together, using an old, molding ball that must have fallen from above in their makeshift game. Ragged, but effective, curtains covered many of the windows, where light from many sources shone out in the encroaching dark. Candles, fires, and the occasional light bulb illuminated the homes. In the street, a few oddly placed lamps provided weak illumination, giving the city a mystical glow.

  “It is amazing how people can survive down here, finding ways to thrive in the most desperate situations,” Celes said.

  Janus smiled, “Cerberus has no idea how
many slummers really exist down here. Someday, they may be in for a nasty shock.”

  As the group turned down another street, Rogers asked, “How will we locate Norm down here? Surely he isn’t that well known?”

  Janus shrugged, “Well, we’re approaching the West side of the town, we might as well start asking.” He stopped near a young woman, bundling some dirty rags together while a small toddler hid behind her legs. Marcus and Rogers moved forward to talk, but Janus grabbed them and pulled them back.

  “Excuse me,” Janus asked politely, keeping his palms open and towards her, “I am looking for a man named Norm, could you direct me to him?”

  The woman eyed him suspiciously, taking a step back, “Why do ya’ want to know?”

  Janus smiled, “I’m an old friend of his – my name is Janus.”

  Instantly she warmed, “Janus! Oh, wonderful! He’s been hopin’ ya’d show up soon. He lives two streets over, on the third floor. I’ll take ya’ to him.”

  “Apparently he is that well known,” Marcus muttered.

  She led them away, hoisting the toddler up into her arms and carrying him, “My name is Sara and this,” she smiled at the toddler, “is Julius.”

  Janus smiled at the toddler, who promptly hid his face. Rogers whispered in his ear. “You know, we’re making all this effort to reach him, but are you sure that we can trust this Norm fellow? You said he worked in the upper levels? Could he be a Cerberus loyalist?”

  Janus shook his head, “Not likely – he’s a slummer. Cerberus doesn’t even indoctrinate us. Expressing a love of Cerberus in the slums has a tendency to make life even more difficult. And he has helped Clara all my life. I have little doubt that we can trust him.” He shrugged, “Besides, what choice do we have?”

  Rogers nodded, “I’m with you, but I just wanted to hear you say it one last time, now that we’re in it deep.”

  Janus smiled, “Understandable, but I don’t think we’ve really gotten into it yet.”

  Rogers chuckled softly, “Ah, I see you’ve already developed that old ODIN optimism. Try to look on the brighter side on things. Heck, even if Norm is a loyalist, our information will probably make him want to help us more so that he can find out as much as possible about Middleton. See – the brighter side.”

  Janus grinned and said, “And if he is a loyalist, I’m sure he’d be happy to have us tortured to retrieve our information – but at least Middleton would be discovered – that’s a positive, right?”

  Rogers scowled and said, “You, my boy, are a lost cause.”

  Janus laughed, turning to listen to Sara. She had heard Marcus’ comment: “—Norm’s been around for a ‘time, ya’ see. He got to know almost everyone righ’ away. He’s a clever man, never forgets a name. Always helpful; everyone loves him. I’m sorry if I wasn’t friendly, but we guard him here. He’s such a source of wisdom; gets thin’s done for us. He also must be the oldest livin’ man in the slums. No one knows his age, but, as ya’ know, very few people in the slums get to be as old and grayin’ as he is.”

  Some of the Adepts gave quizzical looks at Janus behind Sara’s back, but Ramirez spoke, “Ya, it doesn’t seem like many live past forty or fifty.”

  Sara looked slightly downcast, “I had hoped that some of the other slum communities were doing better than we were, but I guess everywhere has the same problems – I suppose it’s better than bein’ an outskirter. They have it really tough. But ya’ wouldn’t know anythin’ about that, would ya’? A large group would come from a community; no way to survive altogether in the outskirts. Where ya’ from?”

  The Adepts looked surreptitiously at Janus, who quickly jumped in: “We’re from Persephone.”

  Sara raised her eyebrows. “Persephone! That’s all the way on the other side of Cerberus! No wonder Norm has been waitin’ so long. I can understand why ya’d be hesitant to make the journey. Ya’ took the outside?”

  Janus shrugged, “Well, we took a few cuts through the city to save supplies, but we skirted the outside to avoid the patrols. Moving hard, it took us about two months, once we had received word that Norm was looking for us and had gathered everything we needed.”

  She nodded, “Ya’ must be tired, then. No one has passed through from Persephone in two years now.”

  Janus nodded, “I’m sure. It’s a difficult journey, which is all the more reason we shouldn’t keep Norm waiting any longer than we already have.”

  Sara nodded, “Of course. Although, I was beginnin’ to wonder whether anyone would show up at all. It’s been several months since he first said that he thought ya’ would be comin’.” She led them up a rusting stairwell on the outside of one of the ramshackle buildings. “Norm’s done well for himself. Working on H-level and his usefulness to the Don gave him a good room. He even got pipes connectin’ him to the main water line – one of the few with runnin’ water and electricity. Here ‘tis.” She stopped before a thinning, wooden door.

  Janus raised his hand cautiously, and knocked.

  Chapter 24: The Burden of Wisdom

  A strong voice answered, “Yes? Well, whoever it is, stop standing there and come on in. Thugs and thieves do not knock.”

  Janus pushed the barrier open. A silver haired man in a sharply pressed servant’s uniform sat in a well-preserved armchair, with a wooden table to his right that looked as if it had been gnawed by termites. A multi-colored shade of reds, yellows, and oranges, covered a stubby lamp that cast shadows from its perch, while a small pile of worn books sat beside it. The rest of the room was bare except for a hammock strung across a corner, a pile of clothes neatly folded along one wall and an old sink that had several clear pouches of water hanging from its edge.

  Norm’s blue eyes gazed up from a rotting book he was reading. His silver brows arched in surprise and he grinned, “Janus! I knew you would come back! And I see you have brought plenty of…” He looked over the group, his sharp eyes noting the strong muscles just beneath the rags, “…friends.”

  He chuckled, smiling at Sara, “Thank you so much for bringing them here. How is that boy of yours doing?”

  “Oh, quite well, thanks to you, Norm. I will find a way to pay ya’ back for the food – and the books, I swear I will,” she looked fiercely determined.

  “No need. I already have more than I should.” Norm shook his head, his eyes distant and his voice quiet. He stared at Janus for a moment, and the strength in his voice returned, “I will see if I can bring more for Julius tomorrow. Now if you will excuse us, I would like to catch up with Janus here.”

  Sara smiled, “Of course. Let me know if I can do anythin’. Anythin’ at all.”

  She closed the door behind and Norm grunted, “Good girl. The boy is the son of an H-level Commander who employed Sara as a servant. Girl was stuck, as she could not refuse her master and keep her job, but when his wife found out, she sent Sara and the boy down into the slums anyway. The castes will doom us all and nobody knows it. Executors and Overlords refuse to see the truth, and slummers cannot hope to change it. We are all fools.”

  He paused, a hand to his lips. Janus and the group exchanged uncomfortable looks.

  Finally, after several moments, he looked at Janus as if he had just remembered he was there and said, “Well, you made it back, boy, and I see you have a whole slew of Adepts with you.”

  The Adepts raised their eyebrows at that, but Janus said, “You always knew more than you let on, Norm – and you still do.”

  Norm nodded, “Perhaps, although it took me coming here to realize how little I actually understood. And I think I have some more to learn right now…” He looked around the room. “Care to tell me what two Adept squads are doing in the bowels of Cerberus?”

  “We were hoping you would give us some answers first,” Janus stated firmly.

  He met Janus’ eyes, “In good time, lad. But first, I need you to tell me what has been happening outside of my little bubble. It will tell me where I need to start,” he studied the others, “And p
erhaps all of you should find a place to sit. I have a feeling we will not be going anywhere for a while.”

  After introductions were made, Janus and Norm talked for many hours, discussing what had happened to him during his Adept training, and how their first mission had started, but when Janus finally reached the disastrous end, he hesitated, glancing at Rogers. Now that Rogers had raised the issue, and Janus really thought about it – after years of holding back information – could he really trust Norm? Clara believes...

  Norm watched the conflict in his eyes. He smiled sadly, “Trust is a difficult thing, isn’t it? Some of us give it implicitly and we experience great pains for it – some of us never give it, and we are destroyed by it. Whatever you think, Janus – whatever I may have held back in the past – it was to protect you. But now, such half-truths can only put you in further danger.” He turned to Rogers, “I assure you, Captain, I am no Cerberus loyalist, and I am certainly not insulted because you wished to withhold information from me.”

  Rogers struggled not to reveal his surprise.

  He looked back at Janus, “You found it – didn’t you? Under the ruins?”

  Janus paused, then nodded. “Was it running?” Norm asked.

  “Yes.”

  Norm looked deeply unsettled. “I knew it would be; I just didn’t want to believe it - please continue, Janus. I need to know everything.”

  After that, Janus told everything that had happened, from the Titan disaster – to Middleton’s base and the discovery of the painting.