The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1)

by Heather Hansen

  On top of Undercity, there was a sealed dome on which the Levels, part of the region called Above, had been built. Most of Above’s population lived in the Levels, crammed into tiny rooms. Though the farther up the Levels one traveled, the higher the numbers, and the nicer the area became. Poverty and crime were abundant at the lowest Levels.

  He lived above the static cloud. He wasn’t particularly proud of that. It was a quirk of birth. While he was grateful for it, it made him ashamed, which was why he was constantly here in the Levels trying to make things better.

  He crossed the street, walking on the thick glass that had at one time offered a view into Undercity. Pedestrians walked across it now and never once looked down. Not that much could be seen, the glass, now milky white with age, blocking the view into the city below.

  He caught the public quadralift to reach the transport grid on Level Four. He waited in line only minutes before the platform hoverdisk docked at the station, then was herded along with a group into the round tube. The light door engaged, the edges of the round pad glowed with a blue light as it rose into the air. The walls’ metallic sheeting was scratched with graffiti. Most of the symbols had no meaning to Dade. Except one. His gaze fell on a small outlined sun.

  He smiled with satisfaction.

  When the light doors opened, he crossed to the nearest station and caught the skytram to U Street. Then he used the stairs to descend to Level Three. Hovercars nearly parked on top of one another in the congested traffic. Speeders wove between them. Some would drive up the side of the open skyway, using the space between traffic and the skywalk as a passing lane. A speeder zoomed by too close, nearly taking Dade out with the backdraft.

  Before he reached the dispensary, Dade ducked into an alley. There he slipped a red mask over the upper portion of his face and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. The mask was made from a synthetic material with nanotech that molded to the face, fitting like a second skin, and wouldn’t come off unless he removed it, as the nanotech was coded to his prints.

  He withdrew several packages from the carry pouch around his waist. Dade didn’t usually make deliveries during the day. It was far too risky. He just hoped that no one would look too hard at him and that the visit wouldn’t take long. In seconds he’d be back on the street.

  A sign posted in the window of the dispensary announced they’d run out of VitD meds. That hadn’t stopped a line from forming outside the door. Ravaged bodies shivered beneath swaddled blankets, decaying from Violet Death. They looked like lumpy piles of garbage rather than people. VitD provided the vitamins essential for humans that normally came from the sun. Regular injections were vital to their health. They would die without it.

  No one looked up as Dade passed. He knocked on the dispensary door, impatient to complete his task. A face appeared briefly behind the blinds before the door clicked open. Dade didn’t utter a greeting. His face might be covered, but the neighborhood comms could still record his voice. He handed over the packages to the harried-looking man wearing scrubs.

  “Bless you, sir,” the man said.

  Dade nodded before he melted back into the street, where he was swallowed by the crowd. He slipped off his mask and pocketed it before he moved around the corner.

  Time ticked like a metronome. Dade was always aware of how quick he needed to be and where his presence was required at any moment. Right now, Saben would already be waiting for him. And while he wouldn’t immediately send out a search party, he would worry. Dade wasted no time making his way back to Level One. His destination was marked by a pink neon sign reading “Breck’s Gym.” It flickered over the doorway of the boxing club. Dade bought tickets from a skinny hawker working the front.

  “Thirty credits,” the boy said. Dirt streaked his face, and he had the hollow appearance of too little food, no sun booth allotment, and almost no VitD injections.

  Dade offered his forearm, keeping the sleeve of his cloak pulled down to cover his blackout band.

  The boy used a thin black wand-scanner over the area. A blue light tracked the sleeve as it swept the chip in the band instead of the one imbedded in Dade’s arm, collecting the account information Dade kept under an assumed name. The scanner beeped as it accepted the credits.

  “Them’s fighting it out for the titleship next week,” the boy said.

  Dade grunted in acknowledgment as the boy pushed a clear orangey-red card Dade’s way.

  “Go on.” The boy waved to the entrance behind him, a narrow walkway that had once been an alley and now served as a covered entrance to the club. Above the walkway, rooms had been built in the narrow space.

  Inside the gym, the ticket man sat on a high bar stool. He was burly, dressed in a muscle tee and tight grappling shorts. His attention was focused on a loud match in the ring rather than on the customers coming through the door. Dade handed over his card when he reached the head of the line.

  Dade wove his way through the crowd as they pushed to the center of the room while yelling their bets. The stench was a concentrated mixture of heat, sweat, and dirt. Breck’s wasn’t one of the finer boxing clubs. It was more like a bunch of street thugs beating one another bloody for sport. If the boxers were any good, they could make a name for themselves and move up to a club where the money really flowed.

  It wasn’t difficult to locate Saben. The man was a mountain and stood out anywhere. His arms were crossed over the brown skin of his shirtless chest. Leather strips rounded his shoulders and crossed his torso in an X. The leather held an assortment of knives and other small weapons, as well as two phasers strapped to his waist. Over this he wore a long black cloak, in deference to the cold.

  Seemingly relaxed and interested, he watched the match. Only Dade would notice the slight frown that touched the middle of his forehead.

  “You’re late,” Saben said as Dade stopped next to him. He didn’t turn his head, or otherwise acknowledge Dade, keeping his focus on the fight. “Anything I should know about?”

  Dade shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about Arden. Not yet. Instead, he asked about Saben’s errand. “Did you get it?”

  Saben nodded once.

  Dade exhaled in relief. Good. At least that had gone well. He loved when a plan worked out.

  Two new boxers stepped into the ring. Those in the crowd went wild calling out their bets. Hands were held in the air so that scanners could move over wrist sensors, collecting their money.

  “Do you miss boxing?” Dade asked. He could see how the adrenaline could become addicting. Though he didn’t think he’d particularly enjoy the broken bones.

  Saben shrugged. “That was a long time ago.”

  Dade pointed to the score leader. He was a big guy, heavily muscled, and wearing a pair of synth-silk gym shorts. The man’s hair dripped with sweat. He batted it to the side as he taunted his opponent. “Do you think you could take him?”

  “Of course.” There wasn’t any arrogance in Saben’s response, just simple truth. He smiled, showing his teeth. That they were still in his mouth spoke to how successful he’d been in the ring despite the scars littering his skin.

  Dade laughed.

  “Why are you so interested in fighting?” Saben asked. “Planning an alternate career?”

  “No.” Dade snickered. He watched the match for another few minutes before he asked, “Do you think what we do makes a difference?”

  “You’re doing the best you can in an impossible situation.” Saben shrugged. “Besides, you’re the only one willing to try. That counts for something.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  Dade let the last few seconds of the bout draw his attention. The opponent was clearly tired. He made a valiant effort, but the leader took him out with his next punch, an uppercut to the jaw.

  When it was over, the loser’s body lay on the floor.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Arden followed Colin to the back of Lasair’s meeting room. There wasn’t much free space available in Undercity to acquire b
y either legitimate or illegitimate means, so the room wasn’t that big and always seemed to be overcrowded with people.

  Since this was only the biweekly Lasair meeting where they got their new assignments, it wasn’t too bad. These meets tended to include only the higher echelon, who would then delegate the tasks later to other members. Arden didn’t manage a group, but she worked directly with Niall, so it was mandatory for her to be here.

  She hated this room. It wasn’t comfortable and had a musky odor of decay from the furniture they’d rescued from the dump. The Lasair gang was wealthy enough to buy new things. It just chose to spend its profit on tactical gear and new phasers. Comfort wasn’t deemed important. Arden had hoped for at least one couch that hadn’t been taped to keep its insides from spilling out when Niall had taken over. Yet nothing had changed in the year he’d been in charge. Niall was too focused on world domination and not enough on the gang’s well-being.

  Uri was already in their usual spot, saving seats and smirking when he saw them. He reached up to brush at the dyed black hair that constantly flopped into his eyes. “You barely made it. Niall is pissed you weren’t here an hour ago.”

  Colin slid into the empty seat next to Uri. “Not my fault. The princess was doing princess things.”

  Arden grunted as she flopped down next to Colin. She fist-bumped Uri and then slouched into her chair, stretching her legs out and folding her arms.

  At the front of the room, Niall called the meeting to order. He looked more like her twin than her older brother. He was attractive, or would have been if his extensive drug use hadn’t started to show. The light-caramel color of his hair that he wore long and knotted to his head now had a dull shine. Purple bruises lined his eyes and the area under his nose. The tacky white of his skin had started to turn a shade of yellowish green.

  She hadn’t spoken with him in days. He looked even worse than the last time she’d seen him. She wondered if he’d been on a bender and if that was how she’d successfully avoided him. Honestly, she didn’t want to talk to him, but she knew he’d corner her today. Especially with that pointed look he sent her.

  Niall stood behind a podium. Behind him, several maps of the Levels above were displayed in 3-D. Green dots indicated where they thought current shipments of VitD were most likely to be vulnerable. Various escape routes were sketched out. “Shut up,” he shouted when they didn’t quiet fast enough.

  Low coughing trickled through the room, punctuated by a few throats clearing before it fell silent.

  “First order of business.” Niall looked into the audience much like a prince surveying his kingdom. “We need to deal with the douchebag who keeps ganking our runs.”

  It was ironic that the gang claimed ownership of the very items they planned to steal. They used the stolen VitD to make the street drug called Shine. Arden huffed under her breath, knowing that no one else shared her amusement. Still, she understood the concern. This person was causing all sorts of problems. Going through the dangers of a run only to get there and not find any product was problematic and risky.

  “Kimber has the latest intel, so I’ll turn the discussion over to her,” Niall said, waving Kimber toward the podium.

  Arden had a visceral reaction to Kimber. She couldn’t stop her lip from curling. Colin shoved an elbow into her side to remind her that showing her true feelings in public wasn’t a good idea. She sat a little straighter and wiped the disgust from her face.

  Niall and Kimber were sleeping together. The entire gang knew because it was a badly kept secret. Not that Kimber and Niall were actually a couple. It made Kimber’s crazy worse every time he denied their relationship. Kimber was possessive and not in a normal way, more like in a crazy-obsessive way. Like keeping tabs on her not-boyfriend by hiding a tracker on him. Niall hadn’t noticed.

  Kimber clicked on the halo, the digital screen that projected vid-feeds. Her curly black hair had been pulled into a tight ponytail, and thick glasses dwarfed her small face, highlighting her perpetual frown. “We know very little of this person, nicknamed the Ghost.” She scanned through a series of photos taken at planned heists that were thwarted, including a shot of the sun-star symbol, sprayed with dripping red paint in each case.

  Arden found the Ghost’s use of the sun-star hilarious. She wished she had thought about repurposing the symbol. It was brilliant marketing, designed to tick off a whole lot of people while making a political statement.

  “In the last week, he’s hit three of our projected heist locations only minutes before we got there. Our sources say he’s giving the merchandise away like some sort of modern-day Robin Hood,” she said with a sneer.

  Kimber clicked off the screen, turning to face the audience again. “His thefts cut into our trade. We have no idea how he gathers his intel, but it’s a source we’d like to exploit. Right now, the goal is to find the Ghost and use him. Lure him to our side if possible. If not, he’ll be dealt with.”

  She meant he would be killed.

  Arden raised her hand. When Kimber acknowledged her, she asked, “Why are you assuming the Ghost is a ‘he’?”

  Kimber squinted, her mouth thinning. “We don’t. The only clues we have to the Ghost’s identity are grainy surveillance pictures lifted from the govie database.” She turned back to the halo, booting up the surveillance pictures. They showed a figure covered from head to toe, any distinguishing features data-blocked by his nanotech mask.

  “Based on the height, we’re assuming the Ghost is male,” Kimber said. “But you’re correct, it could easily be a tall female. What is known is that this person always uses a red mask with horns and he, or she, doesn’t speak. We do know that the Ghost doesn’t sell what he steals. Instead, he gives it to local charities. We’ve decided to start our focus there.”

  Niall retook the podium. “Kimber will be running the Ghost detail, so if you’re assigned to that duty, please see her. The rest of you, keep a lookout and report anything suspicious.”

  There was a general consensus of agreement in the group.

  Niall’s stance straightened. “Now on to the finer points of the evening. We need to move forward with our plans for Project Blackout.”

  The reaction was immediate. Voices spoke over one another, and several people half rose from their seats. Niall was losing control of the meeting, and he looked oddly happy about it. His hands gripped the podium as he smirked while watching the chaos.

  He clearly wanted this uncertainty. Somehow it would help him put into motion whatever messed-up plan he’d set. Arden understood him enough to realize that. This was the way he’d run the gang ever since he’d taken over, pushing them into risky things. They weren’t the only gang out there, yet his ideas ensured they made a name for themselves.

  But the fact was, letting the gang run amok was dangerous. It made Lasair a target and crumbled the gang from the inside. She wasn’t the only one who’d begun to question Niall’s authority.

  Arden stood, hating that she had to publicly confront Niall, but she knew that if she didn’t, someone else would. If that happened, she wouldn’t be able to direct the outcome. Maybe he could see reason before it was too late, because he was numbering his days with this move. She battled her conflicted feelings even as Colin sent her a glare.

  The situation with Niall, as he systematically destroyed their gang, put into perspective how right Colin had been. Days were fleeting and precious. If she didn’t break from the gang soon, she’d be dead along with everyone else when this nonsense Niall cooked up played itself out. It didn’t stop her being constantly sucked back into the gang’s problems. How could she watch her brother mess up his life along with everyone else’s and do nothing to stop it?

  She raised her voice to be heard over the yelling. “I have something to say.”

  Colin groaned.

  Niall meanwhile wrested the attention of the room back to him, pointedly ignoring Arden. “I have received intel indicating the best time to hit the joint refinery and processing
plants will be within the next month. They have a transport due to ship out. If we hit before it leaves, the losses will have the greatest impact.”

  She spoke over him even though he clearly wanted her to sit down and shut up. “What’s going to happen to this city if VitD is destroyed? Everyone will die.”

  Niall glared. “Lasair won’t. We’ve stockpiled enough. We’ll be the only ones with a surplus. It will be enough to give us time to make a play for the city.”

  “The govies won’t let you do that. Once the drugs are gone, they’ll take emergency action.” Besides, when did the gang have aspirations to take over the city? Since never. That road could only lead to disaster.

  Niall ignored the rest of the room now, speaking directly to Arden. “We’re not fighting the govies. They’ll be as lazy as they’ve always been and back whoever has the power.”

  Unlikely. But keeping on this track wasn’t the way to convince him, or anyone else. The gang could be swayed to his thinking.

  “What will happen to everyone else once the drug trade stops?” she asked. “What about the children? They’re innocent and shouldn’t be condemned to death.”

  Niall shrugged. “If they don’t like it here, there’s always the Wilds.”

  Arden pressed on, not wanting to think about the large swaths of undeveloped planet in between the cities where the soil was fertile but nothing grew without the help of artificial sun lights. Or the animals that were either poisonous or liked to eat humans. Even if the danger from being eaten wasn’t enough to put off someone from crossing it, most of the Wilds territory was too dark, the static cloud too thick to see anything. To go there would be a death sentence. It was the reason people didn’t leave this city. There was no way to get to another of the planet’s cities without a transport ship. “Our stockpile will eventually run out. What would happen to us then?”