City of Darkness

by D P Wright

  It all began to make sense to Kessler, “So because Father Jacob was telling Dregs not to take Lux your friends wanted to teach him a lesson. I understand. And Brother Rothery? No one has seen him since.”

  Judecca’s face curled up in disgust and he spat, “That idiot. Seeking answers in tattered old rubbish when all he had to do was look at what was here. He wouldn’t listen so they took him. They need people to help make enough to allow the rest of us to see the light.”

  “So you let them into the church and they took Brother Rothery and killed Father Jacob, bashed his head in and filled him with sim. Gave him some of the very stuff he was trying to stop you taking. And all so you could get more of this.” Kessler still held up the vial of Lux.

  Judecca stopped his sobbing and pushed the box towards Kessler, “Go on, I know you want some. Even through your shades, I can see it in your eyes. You cannot hide it from me. You and me are the same, me thinks,” his voice rattled with a sudden rush of excitement. “I can spare one if you leave Judecca to his business.” His voice hissed and wheezed as he stared at Kessler. He scratched at a couple of sores on his arm leaving a large angry red welt.

  “We are nothing alike.” Kessler threw a cap against the wall where its dull thud was greeted with a manic howling from Judecca. He lifted his leg and brought it down hard on the box, bursting hundreds of vials which leaked their poison onto the floor…

  “No!” Judecca’s voice changed to a growl. He lunged for the detective and sunk his teeth into his arm. Kessler spun around, wildly flailing but the Dreg’s bite held fast.

  A sudden flash of torch light on metal was followed by an explosion of agony as Judecca, with unnatural speed and viciousness, brought a large jagged blade from under his robes and stabbed Kessler through to his stomach. In a rush of frantic movement and through a heavy shock of pain, the detective brought his Luther to bear on Judecca’s snarling, frothing maw and he squeezed the trigger releasing a flash of white searing hot plasma, causing the creature’s head to instantly explode.

  Crouching over the now lifeless body, Kessler breathed heavily with the noise of the blast still ringing in his ears. Parts of skull and brain matter lay sprayed across the floor and the familiar burnt smell of plasma filled the room, wafting up from the nozzle of his Luther. He turned to stare at the door to the apartment. He had to get out of there fast and make his way back to Midtown with the news that this new sim and the priest’s death were fatally connected. Stacey Steckles had mentioned seeing the priest around the skin labs helping Dregs kick the habit and this was confirmed by Bethany back in the priest’s study. Judecca said that his new-found friends had been angered at the priest sticking his nose into their business, it seemed they didn’t much like what he had to say about their product. Kessler stared at the many broken caps of Lux throughout the room. It appeared that whichever gang, chemheads or whomever was making this sim were the ones responsible for killing him.

  Sighing to himself, Kessler surveyed the grim scene. Lux took a hold of the body more quickly than anything he had ever seen before. In a matter of months, Judecca had been turned from a man of faith to a monster willing to betray his friends and family all for a hit of this chem. Kessler was not looking forward to telling Bethany the grim reasons behind her uncle’s death. The answers to her questions were never going to stop her anger or rid her of grief but this was what she wanted and what he was paid to do. He slumped back to the floor as a flash of pain took his strength and reminded him of his wound. Wincing, he examined the weeping cut. The Dreg had managed to penetrate the plastichem of Kessler’s coat, right through his shirt and into the side of his stomach, he had to give that wretched creature some credit, he didn’t think he had the strength in him for such a move.

  Kessler pulled his arm from his coat, tore the sleeve off of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound to try to staunch the bleeding and gingerly got to his feet. Another spasm took what little breath he had in his lungs and he doubled over in agony. He knew he was not going to make it far and had to get to help. Fast.

  Reaching down into the bloody remains, Kessler retrieved Judecca’s silver cross and placed it in his pocket. Proof for Bethany just in case she required it. Adjusting his coat and holstering his weapon, he staggered back out into the corridor making sure to close the door firmly behind him concealing the bloody scene from the Dregs who still loitered in the corridor. With the deafening grind of electro music still ringing in his ears, he adjusted the cloth to cover his nose and mouth as the heavy, putrid air began to catch the back of his throat. The old Dreg, with his bald head and wrinkled face glistening with sweat, still sat on the floor by the door, eyes wide in the red chemical haze, mouth sucking feverishly on his bottom lip as whatever chem he was on took hold of him. His twitching eyes stared at Kessler.

  “Hey Just Come, did ya find what ya lookin fo?” His head tapped the wall repeatedly to the beat of the music.

  Kessler reached into his pocket and took out one of the vials of Lux taken from Judecca’s stash. “Do you know where I can find more of this?”

  He stopped chewing on his lip to howl with laughter. “That is so fine that juice ya be carryin JC but you won’t av it for long time if ya flash it round down dis part of town.”

  Kessler knelt down and grabbed his ancient face, bringing it close to his own. “Listen Dreg, I don’t have time for games.” He grinned revealing blackened, toothless gums and stuck his tongue out. The stench of death crept out of his mouth and his eyes began to roll back in their sockets. Holding up the cap of Lux, Kessler continued, “You can have this if you tell me where I can find those who make it.”

  The Dreg stopped banging his head against the wall and briefly focused on the vial. For once his body was still, the manic energy of before seeming to quickly disappear. “Why, it no secret where da light come from, JC. You just need to look into your dreams.”

  Nothing made sense anymore. He went to put the chem back into his pocket and began to leave when the Dreg, whose focus had never left the cap of Lux spoke, “Men came from down dere all flash like a couple of months ago, came from nowhere with all dis tools.”

  “And these men, do they make Lux?

  “Yes.” He seemed to catch his breath and pulled the detective even closer to him, their noses nearly touching, “They make the light down below where da fire is. You find dem in Acheron way deep in Down 5. Far, far below. That’s what da voices say. Tell us to come visit. Can’t you hear dem?” He reached for the cap in Kessler’s hands, long, grubby, yellow fingernails curling themselves around the sim which Kessler batted away.

  He shook his head as broken images from his dreams flashed through his mind.“Humph,” Kessler laughed at himself and cursed the sim still running through his system. “Nice try. No one goes down there.”

  “Some do. They do.”

  “The Council would never allow it. “

  The Dreg burst into laughing. “Council! There is no Council where the light shines brightest.”

  Kessler let the cap of Lux drop to the ground and made his way down the hallway as the old Dreg frantically scrambled around the floor looking for what he had earned. The detective could feel his skin begin to itch and bile build up in the back of his throat. He felt unclean. “Be careful now JC, dancing in the light can be a dangerous business.” The Dreg’s voice, and the preceding cackle, echoed down the corridor, following Kessler out into the stairwell.

  Kessler welcomed the relative quiet as he descended the stairs, the drone of the music and the manic voices of the tower’s inhabitants now only a dull hum in the background. He was sweating, his chest ached and he could feel the bite from his stomach wound. He leaned against the wall for support as his head began to swirl. “C’mon Kes,” he told himself, “ just make it to the junker and you’re home. Easy.” He fumbled in his pocket for his Ox inhaler and took one final hit before throwing the empty canister to one side and steadied himself. Rubbing his eyes, he prepared himself for the remain
der of the descent when something caught his eye. Peering over the edge of the stairs through the half-light down towards the lobby, Kessler could see the faint glow of red and blue lights which flashed intermittently through the tower’s entrance. He sighed and powered up his Luther.

  Turning off his torch, he made his way down the stairs cautiously clinging to the wall not wanting to be seen by whomever was down below. As he approached the lobby he began to make out the unmistakable barks of a Venter, interrogating someone in the entranceway of the tower. “Tell me where he went.” The metallic clunk of the officer’s breathing apparatus only served to remind Kessler of his own breathing difficulty. He quickly managed to stifle a cough and cursed at his worn out lungs. He looked outside careful to not be seen. The Dreg from the stairwell was standing, shoulders slumped, head bowed, before a DPD officer. The girl he was with lay prone on the ground at his feet, her pale skin glowing in the blaze from the Venter’s powerful torches. Through the crashing rain which glistened in the bright light, he could see the other officer standing by his junker, bending over and peering through the canopy.

  Kessler cursed himself. They must have followed him from Hotel Sunset, he had been naive to think that he could escape the DPD so easily.

  “Who ya talking about? My head is sore pig.” The unmistakable slur of a Downtowner was answered with a dull thud. The Dreg squealed in pain. “Why ya do dat?”

  “Answer my question. Did you see an uptowner enter this building?”

  “Ya people tink ya can come down here an tell us wat to do. It ain’t right. Sure I seen him, not many citz from above come by this way. He went up da stairs, tenth, maybe twelfth floor. I dunno, I was busy with ma business.”

  The Venter turned to his partner. Alarm bells started ringing in Kessler’s head. The thought of his imminent discovery spurred him into action. He quickly looked around in the low light of the lobby for somewhere to hide. He couldn’t run up the stairs, in his condition the Vents would soon catch up to him. Another look outside saw the two officers beginning to march towards him. Kessler’s attention quickly returned back to the lobby. The lift was his only option. He made a leap across the entranceway, praying that the dull light would hide his bulk. Quickly pulling across the rusted metal cage that barred his way, he threw himself over the edge of the lift shaft and clung to an old ladder on the far side. It swayed precariously, producing a painful screech each time the detective put his full weight onto the flimsy rungs. The stale, hot air howled through the empty shaft making the chains and cables that dangled from above sway noisily from side to side. Rain had found its way into the shaft covering every surface in the greasy slime making it difficult to keep a grip of the ladder. Kessler pulled his hood up as his blood mixed with the rain and ran down his side.

  Holding his breath, ignoring the cries from his body and the raging fire in his stomach, Kessler gasped for good air that was not there and waited to hear the heavy armoured footfalls stomp by. Judecca’s bloodied body was lying upstairs in his apartment with all the chem lying around, the DPD were bound to discover it and they would quite easily link his demise to him.

  Within moments the two passed, the brief, high pitch whine from the assault rifles indicating that they meant business. They marched quickly up the stairs, the hissing and wheezing of their respirators disappearing up into the tower above.

  Kessler reached over across the elevator shaft to the opposite side and balanced on the ledge below the opening. He tried to pull himself up but the pain was too much and unconsciousness threatened to overcome him. He fell back but, just before he was going to plummet down into the darkness below, he gathered what little strength he had left and grabbed hold of one of the chains dangling from above and pulled himself to the lobby floor, his body straining as it fought the agony, trying not to make a sound for fear of discovery, finding the energy he needed to escape.

  Staggering outside into the rain, the detective stumbled past the Dregs who sat on the ground staring up at him vacantly and, once at his junker, fumbled for the latch on the vehicle’s canopy. Kessler slumped into the driver’s seat and quickly fired up the com, praying for a signal this far down. “Hey Ke… I can’t… screen. Bad signal…” The crackling and rasping of interference interrupting Macy’s Midtown tones.

  “Get the Doc down here quick, I can’t make it back.” A wave of pain gripped his chest, he bit down hard waiting for the agony to pass, “Follow my tracer and get Galloway here I…” The com cut off, the signal lost.

  To the sound of empty static, Kessler reached over and flicked on the beacon. He could feel himself begin to slip into unconsciousness, a mixture of tiredness and pain wearing him down. He powered up the vehicle crashing into the side of a building as the junker lurched forward. His vision was going and he struggled to see in the dim light and heavy rain. His faltering mind now solely focused on finding a place to hide from the Venters.

  He threw the junker to the left and turned down an alleyway and, struggling for control, he smashed the vehicle against a wall. Sparks lit up his vision as metal ground against metal until Kessler released the accelerator and slumped across the passenger seat. He was tired of fighting, always trying to survive. He had no energy, no air, no chance…

  THE MORAL COMPASS

  Dark shapes crowded around him and cold, clammy hands pulled and pushed him down. He tried to resist, tried to stay on his feet but there were too many. Everywhere they chanted the same word, a low deep mantra that increased in speed as did the frantic flurry of the poking, prodding and clawing fingers. The dark was alive and slowly swallowing, asphyxiating him in a thick sea of complete blackness. He raised himself up in a desperate attempt to break free and breathe one final gasp of air as from all around him, just as the darkness spilled into his mouth, lungs and body, voices screamed from the dark.

  “Lux Ferre.”

  He woke with a start. An electronic, repetitive squeal blared somewhere in the far distance. What was it? An alarm? Sirens? A rapid patter could be heard from somewhere up above. Rats? Maybe the rain? He felt wet and pain prevented him from moving. He was cold, his back hurt. He was lying on a hard surface. Not a bed. No, the floor perhaps. A muffled sound began to grow in volume. Words. Someone was speaking. There was the sharp rush of gas, the quick intake of breath as someone used an inhaler. He began to remember not being able to breathe. His body jerked aggressively as it tried to take in air but instead the stale, stagnant taste of Downtown clutched at his insides and with it the realisation of where he was. He let out a groan and tried to get up but as he opened his eyes the world began to spin and he slumped back to the ground.

  “So the patient has returned to the land of the living?” He recognised the refined Hightown voice and managed to open his eyes enough to see the disapproving bespectacled face of Doc Galloway approach, roughly take hold of him and place a medivent over his mouth, peer into his eyes and checked his pulse. “We thought we had lost you. Here, take this, it will make you feel better.” Doc handed Kessler a plastic beaker, “It is just water with some painkillers and antibiotics.”

  Kessler cleared his throat, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He sat up with some difficulty and took a long drink of the cloudy liquid.

  “I may not be able to get rid of you, but your heart may be able to. It’s about done Kes, and this place, this air, is not doing it any favours. We have to get you back up to Midtown where the air, although still awful, is better than this soup we are breathing. If you were one of my patients I would recommend getting a rebreather installed but I understand bioware is expensive.”

  “Well, thanks for your help but I’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t take all the credit, as much as I would like to. You would not have made it if it wasn’t for the jar of Prinax I found in your coat pocket. That stab wound,” Doc shook his head, “I don’t know who you pissed off this time but whoever it was missed all your major organs. It did, however, pick up a nasty infection, would have poisoned your
blood and, if you lasted long enough, would have eventually made it to your heart and…” Doc waved his hand across his face and pushed his spectacles back up his long pinched nose, “The Prinax instantly cleared it up. Amazing really. I know that you can get your hands on a variety of pharmaceuticals but I didn’t realise your contacts stretched to high-grade medi-chems. Quite rare, I myself have never seen it before now, only heard about its properties on the Mainframe blogs. Merryll Laboratories are very selective on who they give it to.” The Doc held up the now half empty jar, “May I ask the name of your contact? I would very much like to get hold of some.”

  Kessler thought for moment, clearing the cloud of confusion in his fractured mind. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ he searched his thoughts, “An old man gave it to me.”

  “Well, you owe him your life.”

  “God protects those who fight for him.” Bethany Turner stepped into the light. She wore one of Macy’s tight fitted, lightly padded plastichem coats and her long black hair was tied back revealing a couple of cuts on the side of her face. She smiled revealing bright white teeth and dimples that brought a beautiful innocence to her good looks. Kessler smiled back, he had to admit it was good to see that she was ok.

  “Well, well,” Kessler’s voice was hoarse and cracked as it emerged from his dry throat, “I see that I’m not the only one who has pulled through. Good to see you Miss Turner.”