by N E Riggs
He took the janitor’s jacket off him and rummaged through his pockets till he found a keycard. “Let’s hope you work on more than the cafeteria level,” he said, slipping it in his pocket. “I am sorry about this, but you’ll be fine when you wake up in a few hours. No one’ll hurt you here. Shamla is very safe, I’m sure.”
He stopped by another alleyway to leave behind his loose blue jacket and cap. Then he straightened his shoulders and walked confidently to the employee entrance. A scanner stood beside the door, and David held the keycard up to it. A moment later, a faint beep sounded, and the door opened. David walked inside.
The hallways inside were dimly lit and empty. Still, David walked slowly but steadily, as if he belonged here. Recalling Seth’s blueprints, he found the stairs. He felt too nervous for the elevator. He climbed slowly, half convinced that the authorities would descend upon him at any moment. By the time he reached floor 29, he was sure that someone was waiting for him on the other side. When he stepped into a new hallway and found it equally deserted, David let out a soft breath. Windows dotted both sides of the hallway, some pointing out and some looking into a large, empty room. David hunted for the door. From the blueprints, he thought the sorting room had more than one, but he couldn’t remember for sure. He didn’t see any visible cameras, but he kept his face tilted down. If there were cameras, hopefully they wouldn’t get a good look at his face. Midway down the hallway, he found a door with a scanner. He pulled out the keycard with sweaty hands and pressed it against the scanner. When it beeped, a smirk crossed his face.
He didn’t see anyone in the sorting room, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Desks filled the room with com pads, and large stacks of paper sat in boxes. He picked up the top paper from the closest stack and peered down at it. A few lights shone overhead, just enough for him to read. The paper was fairly straight forward, to his relief. It listed the location on Bantong where a gateway would appear, the location it connected to, what time it would open, and how long it would stay open. The time for this gateway was later this evening, too soon to be any use to David or his new associates.
Quickly he flipped through the rest of the stack, seeing most of the gateways listed would open within the next day or so. He scowled – if that was the best he could find, this whole trip would be wasted. Seth’s friends couldn’t sell information off that quickly. He put the first stack back, making sure it was nice and neat just like he’d found it, before moving onto another one. The second stack wasn’t any good either, but he hit gold with the third. He nodded as he flipped through the pages – most of these gateways would open in the next two weeks, which should be plenty of time. There had to be at least one hundred pages in the stack, more than enough.
David pulled a backpack out from beneath his stolen jacket then paused. If he just took the records, someone would know there’d been a break in. He knew that Passion Priests took the theft of gateway records very seriously. He really didn’t want to get exiled to Jahan. Staring around the room, he caught sight of a photocopier – he’d seen one before in Hue’s office. They were much smaller than Earth ones, two thin pieces of metal that closed together. He turned it on, hoping it wasn’t too complicated or too noisy. The machine made a barely audible hum as it started up. David glanced around, but he was still alone in the sorting office. He fed the papers through the machine, then placed the originals back where he’d found them. The copies he stuffed into his pack, which he now wore on his chest, then zipped the jacket up over top. The jacket barely closed with the full pack under it, and it made him look pot-bellied when he wore it, but he didn’t care.
He left the sorting office, reminding himself firmly not to run. As he walked through the hallways back to the stairs, he saw another person in a parallel corridor – a man in a brown Passion robe. The priest glanced at him briefly, nodded, and continued on his way. David let out a breath he didn’t remember holding and forced himself not to run for the stairs. He let himself take the stairs at a quicker pace, still wishing he could run. Finally he reached the ground level and found the employee’s entrance.
Only when he reached the alleyway with his jacket and cap did David exhale loudly. He leaned against the wall, bracing his hands on his thighs. He mopped sweat from his brow with a shaking hand. After a few minutes, he returned to the alley where he’d left the janitor. He put the jacket back on the man and returned the keycard to his pocket. Pausing for just a moment, he took the janitor’s wallet. He needs to think I’m a regular mugger, David told himself. With that salve for his conscience, such as it was, he headed out of Shamla, the backpack of photocopies hidden under his jacket.
By the time he returned to Seth’s apartment, the sun had just poked over the horizon. David couldn’t see it well through the dense urban jungle of Jigok. Standing briefly in front of the apartment building, he wondered how long he had before he got caught. The thought of being trapped on a lawless world, with no hope of returning to Bantong or Earth, made his stomach clench. He shook his head firmly. I’ll be fine. They won’t find me.
No matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn’t really believe it. He’d never been much of an optimist, and the last few days had only made things worse. He’d lost everything again, and he didn’t know if he’d ever get it back. Shaking his head, he headed inside the building. He didn’t want to think about his life; it would only make him depressed. He wanted to focus on his anger now.
Seth opened his door seconds after David knocked. Despite the early hour, he was already dressed. David wondered if he’d been up waiting for him. “Already?” he asked, gesturing David inside.
David pulled out the backpack and dumped the records on the table. “No sense dragging things out. I hope this is enough to convince you and your friends of my sincerity.”
“I think it will be,” Seth said, his eyes gleaming as he flipped through the papers. “You had no trouble?” David shook his head. “Good. Yes, this is wonderful.” He waved at the kitchen. “Help yourself. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He pulled on his shoes and left with the records.
Alone again, David stared blankly around the kitchen for a long time. He took out his contacts then wandered into the shower and scrubbed at his hair until the red dye came out. Even if someone saw me, they won’t know who I am, he told himself. He had the cooker make him curry and sat down on the couch, putting his agitator on his lap. I should have kept some of the records for myself.
People couldn’t be trusted. They’d die on you or betray you. Bantong had taught him that. Seth was from Earth, but that didn’t mean David could trust him either. He might be a kid, but he was also a criminal, and David needed to take care of himself. Of course, even if he’d kept some of the records, he didn’t know what he’d do with them. He wouldn’t know how to find buyers without getting caught. He’d have to find another way to sustain himself so he wouldn’t be dependent on Seth or Seth’s friends.
He pulled out the wallet he’d stolen from the janitor. The credit cards and license he left inside but extracted the money. There was over three hundred dollars. David still didn’t really know how much Bantonan money was worth, but he couldn’t just ignore it. As if by their own volition, his hands took the money and put it inside his own wallet. He stepped into the corridor outside Seth’s apartment and threw the janitor’s wallet away in a trash can beside the staircase.
He had no friends, little money, and few talents. He had a agitator, though, and he’d already robbed one person. He hadn’t planned to rob the janitor – he’d only done it to cover a worse crime – but he’d still done it. Did the reason really matter?
In Bantonan eyes, he was already a criminal. Why not continue as one?
No. No, he wouldn’t do that. He could find other ways to make money. The priests might believe him evil and corrupt and friends with the Nephilim, but David knew better. Committing crimes against the priesthood and all their stupid rules was one thing, but he wasn’t a petty thief.
It’d
be hours yet before Seth returned. David stepped back inside his apartment, scrawled him a note, then left. A dirty pub stood beside Seth’s apartment building. Despite the early hour, it was open and had a few patrons. David marched inside and walked up to the bar. “I’m looking for work,” he told the barkeeper. “Do you know where I could look?”
The bartender eyed him while cleaning a glass. “You look like a strong young man. There’s a dance club four blocks over.” He pointed a thumb to the left. “They always need bouncers.”
“Thanks,” David said. He left the bar and turned left. The dance club wasn’t open yet, but David found the employee’s entrance at the back. A big, heavy-set man with thinning brown hair lurked outside. He had piercings in both ears, his nose, his eyebrows, and his lip. “I heard this place needs more bouncers,” David said.
The man sneered at him. “We need tough guys, strong guys. Not pretty boys.”
David raised an eyebrow. “I’m tougher than I look.” A year ago, he’d have been much warier. Despite his large stomach, the man was clearly strong. But David had fought monsters and people and Nephilim. A man like this couldn’t intimidate him.
“Got another applicant, boss,” the bouncer said, touching his ear piece. “Can I have fun with him?” David couldn’t hear the response, but the man grinned and David could guess he’d gotten permission. He lunged at David before he lowered his hand from his ear piece.
David slid his feet apart, slipping into a loose stance. Despite his size, the man moved quickly. But David had spent the last nine months sparring with the best Bantong had. The man didn’t move nearly fast enough. David easily side stepped, ducking under the man’s out stretched arms. As the bouncer went past him, David grabbed his arm, twisted, and flipped the man over his shoulder. The bouncer hit the ground hard, staring blankly up at the sky. David rested his foot lightly on the man’s stomach and leaned over him with a smile. “I did say I’m tougher than I look.”
Slow, lazy clapping sounded to his right, and David looked up to see a group of six men. The five in front were like the bouncer: big and strong. Behind them stood an older man in a striped suit. The old man clapped twice more. “Not bad. I don’t like seeing my boys get embarrassed, though.” He nodded to the five toughs beside him. “Teach him a lesson.”
David fell back from the downed bouncer, giving himself more room. “Is this part of the application process?” he asked. “Or do you just not like me?” The five men fanned out, two coming at him from the front, two on the left, and one on the right. David’s hand twitched, wanting to grab his agitator from where it lay hidden beneath his jacket. He didn’t. Anger at his situation welled up again. He just wanted a job, and instead he found these idiots. It made him want to hit something.
So he did. He threw himself at the thug on the right, burying his fist in the man’s gut while he stood gaping at David. Then he swept the man’s legs out from under him and turned, kicking the man who’d tried to attack his back. As the man he’d kicked wobbled on his feet, David swung his arm out, slapping him across the face. The man dropped to the ground.
He sensed something to his left and ducked just as a fist flew overhead. He grabbed the arm and flipped the man. The thug hit the pavement with a loud thud. David took hold of the next man’s shoulder and twisted his arms behind his back, pushing him to the ground. He kept him in a tight hold as the final man fell back, looking to the old man for guidance.
“He moves like a Sword Priest,” the last man breathed.
“So he does,” the old man said, narrowing his eyes at David. Two of the men David had dropped earlier struggled to their feet. The old man made a cutting gesture, and the men moved beside him, never looking away from David. “Who are you?”
David let go of the man he held and stood up. “I’m a traveler, and I’m looking for work. A bartender told me to try the dance club.”
The old man raised an eyebrow. “You must be new to Jigok. The bartenders around here send people out to give my boys some practice.”
“Wait, I was set up?” David asked, clenching his fists. “God, what is wrong with this fucking world!” He turned to head back to the pub and give the bartender a piece of his mind.
“Stop,” the old man called. “I’m not looking for help, but the way you move…” He shook his head. “You fight like a Sword Priest. You still want a job? You’re hired.”
David stared at the old man for a moment, his mouth hanging open. “Really?” He straightened and looked around. The men he’d beaten watched him warily but with a respect in their eyes that made David puff out his chest. “How many people do you need to run a dance club?”
“Oh, I have plenty of people for that, but I can use you somewhere else.” The old man stepped forward and clapped his hand on David’s shoulder. “Í am Pludes Hato. What’s your name, lad?”
“David Kemp.”
“Well then, David Kemp, why don’t we go inside and talk?” Pludes kept his hand on David’s shoulder as he guided him towards a small door in the side of the dance club. One of his toughs came with, the man David had held in a vise. The other men stayed behind, watching David warily. They walked through a short hallway with worn purple carpet then entered an office with more purple carpet, purple wall paper, and purple curtains. David stared for a moment then let Pludes push him into a chair.
Pludes sat behind him desk, steepling his fingers before him and staring at David over them. “Tell me, David Kemp, what’s a talented young man doing in a place like Jigok?”
“Looking for work, like I said.” David had no intention of telling Pludes about how he’d been a Sword Priest or about his association with Seth. There was something about the old man that made him uncomfortable. “I lost my old job and moved here.”
“Fair enough. We get a lot of vagrants here.” Pludes nodded and smiled broadly. “And how did you come by that agitator hidden under your jacket?” The man beside him stiffened, watching David even more warily.
You saw that? David almost asked but bit his lip before he could. Obviously he’d seen it. “It’s my weapon, if you’re wondering.”
Pludes wasn’t smiling any longer. “Don’t play games with me. Only Sword Priests have access to agitators. For anyone else, carrying one is a crime. Tell me now, and answer me honestly. Did you attack a Sword Priest to get that weapon?” His dark eyes seemed to stare right through David. “If you lie, I will find out. I don’t need anyone who’s wanted by the Sword Priests. I get enough trouble.”
David forced himself to look Pludes in the eyes, not backing down. “The agitator belongs to me. It was a gift. I know some Sword Priests. None of them have a grudge against me.” Well, perhaps Bellon and Anur did, but they wouldn’t come hunting him down in Jigok. They were probably glad to have him gone. As for the agitator, he supposed he had stolen it, but only from the store room. It was compensation for Bramira, and poor compensation at that.
Pludes nodded slowly. “I’m willing to give you a chance, I suppose. Take this to the address listed.” He pulled a package from under his desk. It was wrapped snugly, about the size of a bread box.
“I need a map or directions,” David said, glancing at the address. “I don’t know my way around Jigok yet.” Pludes drew him out a quick map, and David took it. It shouldn’t take him more than an hour, if he read the scale right. David picked up the package and stood. “Be back soon.”
*
Three hours later, David staggered back into the dance club. The same man from earlier let him inside Pludes’s office. David slapped an envelope down on the desk and glared. “You could have said I’d be attacked for taking the package there.” He rubbed at his black eye. He was covered in bruises, but he looked a lot better than the five men who’d attacked him. He’d been forced to use his agitator liberally (on stun), but he’d gotten away, the package in the hands of an ugly man who’d watched the whole fight without even pretending to help.
Pludes smiled. “Min was very impressed with you. So
was I.” He flipped on a television behind his desk. David stared as an image of himself appeared, slugging one man while shooting a second. He hadn’t noticed any cameras during the fight. He’d been pretty busy though, and annoyed afterward. “But I guess your skill isn’t that surprising, former Sword Priest of the sixth division David Kemp.”
He stiffened, pulling his eyes from the television screen. Pludes wasn’t smiling any more as he stared unblinking at David. The tough beside him didn’t look surprised by the revelation. “How—”
“I have access to a lot of information. I wonder if you know how poorly Law Brothers and Sisters are paid? And they get so little respect, constantly filling out paperwork and running errands. They don’t even have any gifts! Those are reserved only for Vicars and higher.” Pludes shook his head, looking sad. “When I offered to pay them a generous sum for a copy of records, quite a few of them were eager to help me out.”
David’s fists quivered at his sides. “Those hypocrites.” He hadn’t thought he could hate Law Priests any more than he already did. He’d been wrong. He shook his head and focused on Pludes again. He couldn’t be distracted at a time like this. “So you know. Fine, I was a Sword Priest. Do you still want to hire me?”
“I’m a well known figure here in Jigok. Everyone who’s been here long knows who I am and not to mess with me. But new people constantly arrive in Jigok, people who would also like to have power.” Pludes clucked his tongue. “It grows very tiring, constantly teaching new people their lessons. I have lots of people to help me, but the new people think they have more or that theirs are just better. However, if people knew I had a Sword Priest working for me…”
“What would I have to do?” David asked, resigned. He’d figured out what Pludes was now – a gangster, the Bantonan equivalent of a mafia godfather. He wanted to turn the man down, look for respectable work. What was the point of being respectable, though? He was already planning to help Seth plot against the priesthood. If Seth and his friends targeted the Law Priests, he’d be more than eager to help. “I won’t kill anyone.” Even in the midst of riots, David had never killed a person, and he didn’t plan to now.
