Antiquity's Gate: Sanctuary

by RF Hurteau

  “We are making changes, Denton. The speeches will show that. Speaking of which, Briggs, Sterling, is everything in place for the diversion? We’re going to need all eyes on Sigil if we want to make certain all of our ops go as planned elsewhere.”

  Briggs grinned broadly. “One riot, coming up! Don’t worry so much, Edwin. We’ve got this. Not gonna lie, I’m pretty revved up for some rabble rousing.”

  “Don’t be,” said Edwin sternly. “Things could go south very quickly in this type of situation. You need to have your head in the game, Briggs. Don’t get carried away.”

  “I’m worried that the riot will get violent,” Molly pointed out. “I really am. I mean, D1 is going to be full of people. Children, too. I understand what you’re trying to do, but some people—” her eyes darted toward Denton and Percy, “are not averse to causing injury.”

  There was a murmuring of assent, and Edwin groaned inwardly. Here we go, he thought.

  “Forget injury. We ought to just take over, and send them all back where they came from,” Jackson said, excitedly.

  “Send them back?” spat Denton, “Nah, we ain’t sending them back. We’re going to take care of the Elven problem—permanently.”

  “What?” gasped Molly, “you can’t mean—you aren’t talking about killing them all?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Denton said, eyes gleaming.

  “But what about the children?” Molly protested, “Surely you wouldn’t kill children?”

  But Denton waved at her dismissively. “Little Elves turn into big Elves. What’s it to me how old they are?”

  “And I suppose you feel the same about Halfsies,” Molly said, reproachfully, “Those are my students. They’re sweet kids. They can’t help where they came from!”

  “Just whose side are you on, anyway?” snarled Denton. “Just what are you teaching them in your silly little school? True history? Or are you just churning out more mindless followers for the Elder Council?”

  “Molly’s right, though,” pointed out Briggs. “We can’t kill them. Someone has to work in Geothermal. It’s nasty down there.”

  Edwin leaned back and closed his eyes, waiting for the discussion to play itself out. He was too tired for this. “The Weaver assures me that everyone is ready and willing to do their part, Molly,” he said, tiredly, in answer to her original concern. “We’re going to have to trust him. And no one is killing anyone. That much should be crystal clear, to all of us.” There was still a wild look in Denton’s eyes, but he didn’t argue.

  “I’d trust the Weaver more if he were ever actually here,” complained Sterling. “I’m starting to wonder if he really exists at all.”

  “What, you think I made him up?” asked Edwin, genuinely surprised.

  “Well, no. But maybe you are him,” she suggested with a shrug.

  “Believe me, I’m not, and I didn’t make him up. He’s real, and I trust him,” said Edwin, “so you just have to trust me.” She looked at him, and behind her sulking eyes, Edwin recognized fear. He empathized. Tapestry could not stay hidden forever; it was growing too fast. They were stronger, more organized, and becoming bolder. The Anniversary celebrations would be the first time that they would not only be providing aid to those in need, but also be making themselves known. Not just to the Elves, but to every resident of Sanctuary.

  “I understand your concerns, really, I do. And it’s okay to be frightened. Only an idiot wouldn’t be. But the time for second-guessing ourselves is long past. Now is the time to act. And if we have any chance, any at all, we have to stick together, and trust each other. Do you trust me, Sterling?”

  She bit her lip, considering, then nodded slowly.

  “Excuse me,” said Nelson, taking advantage of the sudden quiet. “Now may I speak?”

  Edwin threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Why not? Everyone else has.”

  Nelson cleared his throat. “My friend Ben stumbled on something big and got himself captured and now we have to save him,” he said, all in a rush.

  “What do you mean, something big?” asked Jackson.

  Nelson’s eyes had a dreamy quality to them, as though he were envisioning the possibilities. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

  “Tell them what you told me,” Edwin encouraged, and Nelson eagerly obliged.

  “A room that moves?” Sterling said skeptically, once he’d finished. But Nelson wasn’t discouraged by her tone.

  “What could they possibly be doing down there?” he breathed, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Hidden keypads, giant lifts, secret levels…there’s definitely something going on. I can feel it in my bones!”

  “Now,” Edwin said, “what Nelson is proposing is a rescue mission. He wants to get Ben out of Geothermal. I think, with a little luck, it can be done. Denton, I know you’re no diplomat, but we’ll need your help on this.”

  “I won’t be able to get you into the plant; they put all Elven guards down there.”

  “I know, but you can get a few of our guys close, and set them up with some uniforms and access codes. I’ve got some people in mind. I’ll send them your way first thing in the morning. That will give them a little time to prepare. Molly, I’m going to need you to contact Cynthia Prewett. She’s the only one who knows where her husband has been hiding out, and we could use his knowledge on the layout down there. Find him, and find out where to look for new prisoner arrivals.”

  Molly nodded. “Of course,” she said.

  “And I’ll need a few volunteers to go take a look in Pod Manufacturing,” Nelson added. “We can scope out the situation, get a feel for—”

  Edwin looked at him, taken aback. “We aren’t going to Pods,” he told Nelson. “Ben would have been sent to Geo.”

  “Well of course I know that, but we have to find out what they’re hiding down there, right?”

  Edwin shook his head. “We have been planning for the Anniversary for months. It’s going to stretch us pretty thin, adding in a rescue mission. We don’t have time to go looking for more trouble, Nelson.”

  “But…but…you heard Molly!” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “We aren’t going to have another shot. Once we rescue Ben, they’ll know we know…they’ll put extra security. It’s now or never. We won’t have another chance to find out what’s hiding down there.”

  “Nelson,” Edwin said, calmly. “It’s either check out Pod Manufacturing, where maybe we’ll find something and maybe it will be worthwhile, or rescue your friend. You can’t have it both ways. Are you really willing to make that trade off?”

  “No, of course Ben is more important! But I don’t understand. Why can’t we go there now?”

  “We aren’t risking our people on some wild goose chase, Nelson. We would need time to plan, time to decide who to send. You’re not asking us to go on a picnic, here. This stuff takes time.”

  Nelson was staring at him now, slack-jawed. When he had gathered his thoughts, he blurted out, “You can’t seriously be suggesting we waste this opportunity?”

  “I think you’re mistaking opportunity for suicide,” smirked Briggs, and several others nodded.

  Nelson stood suddenly. “Fine,” he said, tugging at the bottom of his shirt and nodding tersely. “Fine. If that’s how you all feel, then there’s nothing more to discuss.”

  He stormed from the room.

  Everyone looked at Edwin. “You aren’t just going to let him go, are you?” asked Molly.

  Edwin shook his head. “That kid is stubborn. He’s going to go sniffing around. And if he’s caught, he could expose us all. We can’t risk it. Not when there’s so much at stake.” He looked around, considering his options, which were limited. At last, he said, “Denton, take Percy and follow him. He’s probably going to head for Pods. He won’t be able to get in, but that won’t stop him from trying something stupid.”

  Denton nodded and turned to leave.

  “Denton?” Edwin said, “He’s not a Halfsi
e; he’s not an Elf. He’s your comrade. Remember that. You bring him back. Keep an eye on him, but don’t you dare lay a hand on him, you understand me?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” He and Percy disappeared out the door.

  Edwin had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it had been the right call. Nelson knew too much; they couldn’t let him fall into the wrong hands. He looked around at the remaining members of the group. “Meeting’s over,” he said. “Make sure you aren’t spotted leaving. I’ll talk to the Weaver.”

  eight

  Delusions of Grandeur

  Nelson regretted his outburst almost immediately. He stomped angrily down the hall, feeling more and more uncertain with each passing step. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew they wouldn’t just let him march out like that without some kind of consequence. After all, in a tapestry, a loose thread needed to be tucked back in. Nelson was a loose thread.

  Only he didn’t feel like being tucked in right now, or at all, for that matter. He wanted to prove himself—prove he was a worthwhile investment. He’d never get anywhere just playing it safe. And if Tapestry wanted to play it safe, they wouldn’t be working against the Elves, would they? They wouldn’t even exist. They’d all be home right now, sleeping in their beds, praising their wonderful, wise overlords for keeping the big, nasty Sequencing away. What a bunch of hypocrites, he told himself. Who were they to tell him what to do, and how to do it? They didn’t follow any rules, why should he?

  He was going to Pod Manufacturing, and he was going to find the moving room. And then he’d find out what Ben had discovered down there. It was probably something big. It had to be; he knew it. If they didn’t want to help him, fine. He wouldn’t have to share the credit! Edwin was a nice guy and all, but if he couldn’t see the value of this mission, he left Nelson no choice but to go it alone. They couldn’t let this moment pass them by.

  Maybe he’d find an entrance to the Geothermal Plant down there, too. Then he’d rescue Ben. Heck, he’d probably just free everyone down there while he was at it. Wouldn’t that be something? He’d show them all, and when the new order was established, they’d point at Nelson and say, “There’s our guy. He should lead us.”

  Nelson had always been ambitious. He’d been top of his class in every subject and approached each challenge with a fresh, unquenchable zeal. He’d been thrilled to be assigned to Core Operations straight away, and only mildly upset when he realized how mundane a position he’d received. He hadn’t let it keep him down for long, though, and he poured himself into his work, offering suggestions for improvements, or ways to streamline the operation, or offering to cross-train in other departments in his free time, so that he’d be a more valuable asset to the Sigil community. He had actually set his sights on Edwin’s job, truth be told, before he met Edwin. Try as he might, he couldn’t find fault with the man. He actually really liked him. So, he’d decided he’d just be Edwin’s assistant, at least until the older man retired, or moved on to something else.

  He’d only been in Core Systems about a month before Edwin had approached him about joining Tapestry. With a whole new world of possibilities suddenly open to him, Nelson had eagerly agreed. In all of his ambitions, he’d never even considered the idea of being a revolutionary. He was going to be the best revolutionary that had ever been. Sure, the Weaver seemed to have set his sights on goals that were a bit mundane for Nelson’s taste. Feeding the hungry, helping the sick, that was all well and good. But Tapestry needed to take a hard look at the bigger picture. Nelson would help them see.

  He thought about all the other kids back at school, who’d laughed at him and called him an overachiever. How about overthrowing the Elves? How about taking back Sanctuary for mankind? How would that be for over-achieving?

  Feeling much better about his decision, he drew himself up, and began to follow the maze of corridors toward Pod Manufacturing.

  It wasn’t long before he heard them. The oafs certainly hadn’t been recruited to Tapestry for their stealth—that much was obvious. Two sets of heavy footfalls echoed behind him, but not far enough behind for his liking. He knew it must be Denton and his faithful lackey, Percy. They knew exactly where he was heading, too. Nelson felt betrayed. Edwin sent them after him as if he were some kind of criminal that needed to be contained! The idea only hardened his resolve. He sped up, stopping just short of the passage leading to Pods, giving himself a moment to compose himself. Like most of the departments down here, it wasn’t staffed overnight. That’s what made this underground level such a great place to meet. If he was lucky, he could get in and find the hidden door before Denton caught up to him.

  He peered around the corner and pulled his head back, heart sinking. Two Elven guards manned the door. He probably should have expected Security. He wouldn’t be getting in there anytime soon.

  Thinking quickly, he backtracked, then took a circuitous route back toward the lift. He opted for the stairs because the lift doors were loud. If he could just buy some time to come up with a plan, he knew he could figure it out. It was all about attitude. Just think positive, Nelson! You can do this! But how could anyone think with a couple of great ugly brutes following him around? Glancing behind him, he saw no sign of pursuit. With any luck, he’d managed to shake them already! Up the stairs, onto the landing, check that the coast was clear…and into the deserted lobby.

  He hesitated for a moment, uncertain where to go next. What were his options? He couldn’t go home; they’d certainly look there. He couldn’t go to Sylvia’s, either. Edwin would likely check there, too. Where in Sanctuary could he possibly hide? There were hundreds of Tapestry members in the city. How big of a threat would they consider him to be? Would the Weaver mobilize all of them to find him?

  He had almost reached the front door when he heard the lift doors sliding open. “There he is!” said Denton, loudly.

  Nelson sprinted. He felt his heart pounding in his throat as he raced down the steps and out into the darkened square. He looked around. He had to lose them. But how? He turned toward the Tube Station and ran, full out.

  Nelson had never claimed to be an athlete, but Denton and Percy were bigger, and older. He thought he could give them the slip, if he could only find a place to hide. He flew through the market place, passing a rowdy trio of off-duty Security guards clustered outside of the tavern. He could hear Denton not far behind. “You three, with us!” Denton wheezed, “Security matter!”

  Nelson bolted up the steps to the Station, stopping just long enough to swipe his wrist hastily over the chip reader before darting onto the platform. He looked around wildly, but there was no sign of a train. Several passersby eyed him with mild concern, but he paid no attention. Spotting the maintenance entrance, he ran for it, down a flight of stairs onto the dimly lit tracks. He was feeling a little faint, now, and wasn’t sure how much longer he could run. For a moment, he considered giving himself up, going back to Edwin and pleading with him for forgiveness. Was it too late? Had he sealed his fate when he stormed out of the meeting? Of course, Edwin would take him back. Edwin wasn’t a monster. But what about the Weaver? Nelson had never met the Weaver. What if he decided that Nelson was too wild, too rebellious even for a rebellion?

  The stitch in his side had become almost unbearable when he spotted it. Ahead, on his left, a door had been forced open. It was rusty, and it creaked loudly, but he was able to squeeze inside. He looked around for an exit, but there was none. He was cornered.

  He heard the echoing sound of Denton’s group drawing closer. His eyes fell on a tall, narrow cabinet. It was empty, and he thought he might just be able to—yes! With a little effort, he forced himself into the cramped space, pulling the door shut behind him.

  He was just in time. As he struggled to catch his breath, which came in quiet gasps, he heard the men approaching. The door creaked again as they drew it wider. He clamped both hands over his mouth to mask the sound of his heavy breathing.

  “Nelson,” came Denton’s drawling voice.
“Nelson, we know you’re in here. Come on out. We ain’t gonna hurt you. We just need to bring you somewhere and keep you safe, that’s all. Keep you outta trouble.”

  They were in the room. He could hear them moving around.

  “There’s nobody here, boss,” said Percy. “He must have kept running.”

  Denton gave an exasperated sigh. “Well come on, then. This place is a mess of tunnels. If we lose him, we’ll be here all night.”

  Nelson strained to listen as they moved away. He waited a long time before slowly opening the cabinet door. He stepped out into the room, listening again. They were gone.

  He slipped out onto the tracks, back toward the stairs, and up into the station.

  * * *

  Nelson spent the rest of the night drifting in and out of sleep, curled up behind a giant model of Antiquity’s Gate in the third classroom on the right. This was where he’d told Sylvia he’d meet her. He would keep his promise, and let her know that there was a plan in place for Ben’s rescue. After ditching Denton and holing up in the North wing, he had tried for hours, to no avail, to come up with a plan to get past the guards. Perhaps after a bit of rest, he’d think of something.

  His stomach growled, and he was thirsty, but he didn’t dare venture out of his hiding place. It was morning, and Sigil would be full of critical employees as well as curious citizens enjoying the opportunity to get an inside look at the inner workings of Sigil. But it would also be full of Tapestry’s moles. He wasn’t actually worried about his safety—their movement was Humanitarian, not a group of terrorists. However, he was concerned that if they caught him now, they’d make him sit out the Anniversary all together. He wouldn’t get to give his speech! He’d been thinking about it, trying to keep his mind off of his hunger. He was really going to inspire the people of Sanctuary, he just needed the right words. He was supposed to talk about Core Operations, and he would. But maybe he could slip in a few of his more ambitious thoughts. He toyed with floating the idea of a democratic governing system. No more self-anointed Elves dictating their lives. Appointed, not anointed! He liked the sound of that. When he closed his eyes, he could hear the crowds cheering, repeating it over and over. Appointed, not anointed! Appointed, not anointed! They’d probably demand he be installed as head of the Elder Council right away. Come to think of it, maybe that was a bad idea. He wasn’t trying to overthrow the Council single-handedly. Or was he?