City of Darkness

by D P Wright

  Inside the tower was a small square room with stairs leading to the floors above. Directly opposite the entrance, a door swung slightly on its hinges. “Good work.” Kessler went to leave.

  “Wait.” Bethany’s slim form shook as she spoke, “That policeman. He had a syringe in his arm. I have never seen eyes so black. He looked monstrous.”

  Kessler stopped by the doorway, “Its Lux. It does that to those who take it.”

  “It’s terrible, just absolutely terrible.” Bethany began to sob, “My uncle did he… did he look like that?”

  “Don’t think of that. Remember, your uncle knew what this stuff did to people, he had visited the skin labs, probably knew that it was eating away at one of his very own priests. He sacrificed his life trying to stop this chem killing, trying to help those hooked on it. He was a good man, a rarity in this city.” Kessler held his Luther before him, adjusted his hood and continued out the doorway into Baron’s Town.

  THE CROW’S NEST

  The three stood outside the entrance to the guard tower staring down the main road which made its crooked way through the centre of Baron’s Town. The street lamps, the few that were operating, threw their anaemic glare into the dark, hardly denting the thick haze which smothered the area, resulting in the group having to rely on the weak light from their torches to navigate their way through the murk. Along either side of the road, a series of ramshackle, crumbling, two-storey stone buildings stood, nothing stirring within the black of their interiors. The only movement came from the torrents of rainwater which surged over the worn cobbled street. Kessler wiped away the brown sludge from his forearm to reveal his inked panel and accessed the coordinates which Jimmy had given him, “This way.”

  As they travelled through the town, in amongst the Humanity First ramblings and angry anti-Council scribbles that littered the crumbling walls and rotting buildings, were doorways covered in clear plastic sheeting all bearing the same Merryll Laboratories skull emblem which was seen on the gate outside the town. “Where is everybody?” Bethany spoke from under her hood.

  “This place died a long time ago. Look at the dates on the Merryll notices,” Doc said, holding his Lazarus rifle nervously before him, his torch light darting from one place to another at sounds only he could hear.

  “Doc’s right. This one is dated six months back.” Bethany pointed her torch at one of the many doorways which had been branded with the Merryll warning.

  “Looks like your good friend Jimmy Six has let us down, there is nobody who can help us here. I never trusted that guy.” Doc ‘s muttering could be heard just above the drone of the rain.

  “Well, we’re about to find out, we’ve arrived.” A small, pale light could be seen through one of the windows under a glowing blue neon sign which marked the building as ‘The Crow’s Nest Tavern’. Kessler pressed down on the com and Bethany took a couple of hits from her inhaler and coughed into her face mask. Doc stood tight against the building’s wall trying to make use of the cover offered by a small strip of plastic which hung limply from a couple of broken pipes that protruded from the roof. His gloved hands held the collar of his longcoat tightly around his neck trying to protect himself from the downpour. He stood staring out into the gloom with his round spectacles catching the reflection of a street lamp which flickered weakly from a building across the road.

  Kessler hit the com again and peered through a window thick with grime, “I think I can see something moving about in there.” He banged hard on the door with thoughts of what he was going to do to Jimmy if he let him down again beginning to form in his mind.

  After a few moments the door opened and from the darkness a bald head peered up at them through the black plastic of an old optic array, “Yea, what ya wan?” The low rumble of a Downtown accent emerged from between huge bulbous lips.

  The dull blue light from above the door revealed the small frame of a Dreg, wrapped tightly in a purple and gold syth-cloth poncho. Through the dirt, Kessler could see that at one stage in its life it would have been an expensive piece of clothing easily found around the shoulders of many an upper Midtown citizen. The Dreg had a long thin neck which had a series of small holes up either side that contracted and expanded with every breath. He looked thin and fragile as the rain pattered over his pale, almost translucent, face.

  Kessler leaned forward close to him and shouted over the din of the deluge, “We’re looking for Beck Goodfellow. We’ve had a long journey and been told that this is a place we can rest and resupply?”

  “Then enter, you’re all welcome at The Crow’s Nest.” He scurried away into the dark and turned on a couple of small lamps which were dotted around the room. Inside, the tavern was warm with a thick musky smell which hung heavy in the air. The low light revealed a small room within which every space was crowded with all manner of items. Along the walls, shelves were packed full of tools, machine parts and boxes, most labelled ‘miscellaneous robotics’. A variety of face masks and rain protectors of different ages were packed high against the far wall and beside them a range of chem and bio hazard suits hung from hooks. Exotic items of all shapes and sizes were piled alongside the mundane and in its centre the Dreg hurriedly scampered around a small rectangular green plastic table, wiping it with a grimy rag.

  The three pulled down their hoods. Kessler took off his optics and wiped the rain from his face as Doc cast a disinterested glance over everything. The Dreg approached the soaking group, bowing slightly while playing nervously with the rag in his hands, “I apologise for the abruptness when I answered the door, we do not get many travellers in these parts, at least not recently. I’m Beck Goodfellow, and this is my place, it isn’t much, times are hard.” The gruff manner that greeted them instantly disappeared changing to a more educated speak, although his lower city accent remained.

  “We’ve travelled far and have still some distance to go. We’ll need provisions for the journey ahead and a room,” Bethany cleared her throat and Kessler continued, “two rooms for the night and a good supper if you can?” He took off his gloves and coat and looked around for somewhere to put them when Beck, pausing briefly as he glanced Kessler’s bloody shirt, dashed around the table and took them from him.

  Kessler spoke sheepishly and sighed, “And a new shirt if you have one.”

  “Of course,” he smiled, “and your bags?”

  “We’ll keep them with us, thanks.” The innkeeper bowed as he took the sodden garments and, giggling nervously as he glanced the rifle strapped to Doc’s side, he waddled off into another room, trying not to drop the large bundle of clothes that precariously towered above him.

  Bethany took a couple more breaths on her inhaler and, with Kessler and Doc, sat down around the table. “It’s been so long since I have eaten anything but this air, it turns my stomach.”

  Doc took off his spectacles and began to clean them with a piece of cloth, “What little Ox that’s pumped this far down is mostly centred around the Core. This close to the Fringe, the outer limits of Dis, the air’s at its worst.”

  Bethany gave a brief smile to both of them before bowing her head holding her uncle’s small silver cross from around her neck. All Kessler could think about was how tired he was. His eyes burned, felt heavy and he longed to close them.

  Beck returned to the room holding a pile of plates and three large tankards. Strapped around his head was a torch that threw a beam of light everywhere he turned. “It’s not often we get citizens from up city all the way down here, well, not for a long time anyway.” Kessler looked at Beck as suddenly a wave of paranoia hit him and his hand quickly found his Luther holstered by his waist. Doc noticed Kessler’s reaction and reached for his rifle.

  A plate fell from Beck’s grip and clattered against the table as the innkeeper froze, his large bulging eyes fixed on their weapons. He stuttered, “Apologies for my chatter, I don’t mean to pry but it’s been so long since I’ve had any company.” He laughed and bowed again before exiting the room and quickly re
turning with a huge jug of ale and steaming hot pot and proceeded to fill everyone’s plates and flagons.

  Bethany leaned forward and spoke in a hushed, quick whisper, “I don’t think I can eat.” She brushed her nose and took another breath of Ox.

  Kessler leaned forward, “Eat it. You’ll need the energy for the journey.”

  “Apologies Miss, I forget my manners.” Beck reached into a drawer and produced a jar, “It’s been a while since we have needed this, us lower citizens are used to this bad air and the smell, well, I don’t really notice it anymore I’ve been down here for so long.”

  Bethany blushed at Beck’s humble manner and thanked him for the gesture. She reached into the jar and applied some of the ointment to her upper lip. The strong perfumed smell filled the room. Her breathing eased and she offered the jar to her companions but only Doc took it. She smiled, “Thank you,” at Beck and began to eat.

  “I’m afraid there is not much in the way of food going around at the moment, but I do my best.”

  “What is it exactly?” The doctor spoke as he played with the large grey lumps which floated in steaming hot brown liquid.

  “Council standard rations with some special ingredients of my own, synthesised proteins, flavourings and a couple of secret additions.” He smiled a toothy grin which seemed to double the size of his head as it balanced on his long thin neck. He looked very pleased with himself.

  “Thank you.” Kessler smiled back at Beck. Their new host’s words were considered, spoken slowly and, although he continued to not speak in the usual slurred talk of Dregs this far down, every so often his wheezing breath would get caught on a word and he would hiss and splutter through it. Kessler squinted as Beck’s head torch flashed over his eyes, “Can you turn that damn thing off?”

  “Oh, yes of course, again my mind is not where it should be. The power to this sector is intermittent at best during daytime hours, at night it is nonexistent. We are left with using the chem lamps and torches, even in our own homes.”

  Kessler threw him a couple of cred which Beck caught and immediately bit down hard, testing the quality. “Excellent. Thank you, sir.”

  “We’ll need some things,” Kessler looked at the room around him, “by the looks of your place you should have no problem getting them for us. He pressed down on his bioware, activated his holopad and quickly typed out a list of what they needed and handed it to Beck.

  “Of course.”

  “I will need some medical supplies, things that may be difficult to get.” Doc’s eyes still had not left the steaming grey mulch that was his meal, every syllable of his nasal Hightown accent hung heavy in the air.

  “This far down it is difficult to get hold of some items you may take for granted up above but, of course, I will do my best. May I ask one question though, how did you find out about me?”

  “Jimmy Six said that you were reliable and could help us.” Kessler spoke between gulps of ale.

  The smile that had been almost permanently etched across the innkeeper’s face disappeared for a brief moment. “The rogue,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “I would love to speak to him but the coms don’t function this close to the Fringe and he avoids my messages.”

  “Jimmy seems to have that effect on people.”

  After taking a moment to compose himself his smile returned and, after another bow, the innkeeper spoke, “I will leave you to your supper. There’s a bell, ring it if you need more food, drink, anything you want.”

  Beck turned to go when Kessler raised his voice, “A minute of your time before you go?” Kessler’s hand still rested on his Luther and the image of the dead Venter lingered in his thoughts.

  “Yes?” He smiled.

  “This place, Baron’s Town. Where has everyone gone?”

  “Like I said, times are hard. Around six months back a terrible disease came upon us. No one knew what it was but we quickly found out what it did to us. Very nasty. Took most of the town I’m afraid, but no worries good sirs,” his smile widened further and, with a long thin hand he readjusted his optical array, “it is all gone now. No need to worry, no worries at all.”

  “And the Vents? We saw wrecked Interceptors outside the town walls. They still around?” His mind held on tight to the image of the needle and the burning sun sticking out of dead skin.

  Doc looked at Beck over the top of his spectacles while playing with his still-full plate and spoke before the innkeeper could answer, “And Merryll Laboratories? Their mark is everywhere.”

  Beck rubbed his neck which glistened with sweat, “Yes, they came down here with all their shiny tech and promises to find a cure. They took a great interest in the plight of our citizens, told us that they were looking for a remedy, told us that it could earn us visas up city, get us good air.”

  “What type of tests were they doing?” Bethany leaned towards Beck, urging him to continue.

  “Anything they wanted, this far down nobody cares. They filled citizens with their cocktails, shot us up with their chem, slashed us open with their knives and shocked us with sparks.”

  “And people let this happen? The Protocols do not allow testing of medicines and experiments that have not had approval from the Council?” Bethany’s brow creased with concern.

  “There were never a shortage of volunteers, people came from all over the District. They queued up for hours at a time each with the hope of surviving, hope of a cure for their corrupted lungs and frail bones.” The innkeeper looked away from the group and wiped his optics with his cloth, “Some escaped the labs, not all in one piece though.” He mumbled something inaudible to himself.

  Doc reached across the table and touched Bethany’s hand, “I have heard of this happening Beth. The corporations do what they wish below the Rim. If they need to produce meds quickly they will always look to other means outside of the Council. There is a lot of cred to be had in medicines, a lot of citizens who need them, many willing to do and pay whatever it takes to get them.”

  Kessler chose his words carefully, his need for information more pressing than his distrust of their host who stood smiling and bowing throughout their conversation, “Please, if you have the time, join us, pull up a chair and have an ale.” The detective reached down to the bag of cred and from it threw another bar which clattered on the table in front of Beck. He immediately swiped them up with his small bony fingers and again bit down on it with yellowed, pointed teeth.

  Beck’s eyes sparkled at the credits and he quickly pocketed them, “Gladly, as I said, it is not often I have company these days,” he repeated. Reaching for the jug, he poured himself an ale and eagerly drank, closing his eyes and savouring every noisy gulp. “This town, if you can still call it that, has survived through the years despite Council rationing their power to a meagre trickle, hardly enough to keep the generators going to heat our homes, or cook our food.”

  Kessler took a mouthful of the foul broth and winced as the grainy, harsh-tasting liquid slid down his throat. He could not help but break into a smile. Doc was used to the more subtle spices from Hightown and Kessler revelled in his discomfort as he tried his best to keep his food down.

  The strong alcohol was beginning to numb Kessler’s senses and add further weight to his already drowsy, heavy eyes. Eventually his attention returned to their host, “So what brought you all the way out here? Surely for a Dreg in your line of work being closer to the Core, up close to the Rim, would provide more business and more cred?”

  Beck laughed and, as he did, his gills on his neck flared, “We all have our reasons, all have our stories. Besides, out here nobody disturbs us, even the Council leaves us alone. Well,” he shrugged, “until recently, of course.”

  “Tell me, Beck, are there any Vents or corps officials still in the area?”

  “No. All gone. And unfortunately with it the increased power and ration allowance that came with them.” Beck drank some more of his ale. “They went when there was no one left for their doctors to work on.”
>
  A silence descended on the room as Kessler and Bethany finished their food and Doc sipped delicately from his tankard. The only sounds were the flickering of the lamps, Beck’s hissing and wheezing with every breath and the dull hum of the rain outside. The dancing flame of the chem burners returned Kessler’s thoughts to his own tiredness and he did not want to continue the conversation further, the aches in his body reminding him that he needed rest. “Thanks Beck. I’m tired,” he looked around the table, “we’re all in need of rest.”

  Bethany looked over at Kessler, “I was enjoying hearing Beck’s story. I’m not tired.”

  “We have a long journey ahead of us, it’s time we slept.”

  “Your supplies will not be a problem, I’ll have it all for you in the morning.”

  “And my additional items.” The doctor handed Beck his own holopad and the innkeeper scanned the blue light with his optics, “Some of the more exotic items may be difficult.”

  “And one final request.” Kessler spoke as he finished his ale, “We need a guide, if there is anyone left in this town, who can take us down to D5. Jimmy said you knew a way.”

  Beck stared at the detective, the black gloss of his optics reflecting back the flickering light from the lamps, “Of course.”

  “We need to get to Acheron. Have you heard of the place?”

  “Yes. The journey is not difficult.” Beck leant forward, bringing a finger to his lip as if briefly lost in thought, “May I ask why you want to travel to such a place?”

  Kessler reached into his trouser pocket and produced one of the caps of Lux he had picked up at Judecca’s, “This stuff, marked with a burning sun. We’re looking for those who make it and we hear they’re based down in D5, in Acheron. Know anything about it?”

  “Ah, sir. I am only a simple innkeeper who dabbles in a bit of trade here and there. I know nothing of such things.”