City of Stone (The Watchers Trilogy, Book Two)

by T. C. Edge

  He seems conflicted. He doesn't have the same defiance he had before.

  I lead him on and he turns to me.

  “I hope you get your friends back,” he says. “Good luck, Cyra.”

  With those kind words, I throw my fist across his face. His eyes instantly go dull and he drops towards the ground. I step in and catch him before he hits, then shuffle him into the car beside the others.

  “Sleep tight, Tommy,” I say.

  “Wow, that was brutal,” says Markus, looking impressed and quite surprised. “I just gave them a shot to knock them out.”

  “Oh...”

  He walks off laughing.

  I feel a huge sense of relief leaving Tommy behind and seeing him safe. It's one thing shooting someone and killing them in a gunfight, but it's completely different when you've got to know them a little bit. As we lift off in the plane once again, I look at him, unconscious in the car, and hope that he doesn't suffer for having helped us. Somehow, I get the feeling that he won't be seen as completely guiltless when he's found and questioned.

  With Stein now in control of the aircraft, we gather together in the cockpit. The plan, it seems, is to make our way to that hive of immorality where I once spent the night; New Atlantis. Being a mecca for smugglers and addicts and those of ill repute, it seems appropriate that Stein's contact be found there. If, that is, he's still alive.

  We fly fast along the coast, keeping a keen eye on the airspace around us for potential threats. The sight of a Custodian aircraft is nothing out of the ordinary, and we largely make quick progress as we approach more populated areas. Soon, I see villages pop up, then towns, then the sight of larger coastal cities, many used for fishing. Military bases are also spotted, soldiers training, weapons of war being tested. It quickly puts into perspective what we're facing.

  We fly for a few hours, silently drifting along the coast just a little way out to sea. Once more, some low cloud cover helps to conceal us. Progress is quick. We travel fast. Soon, the familiar shape of New Atlantis grows visible in the distance. I see Drake and Markus stare at the city as I once did, fascinated that such a place exists.

  “Some of the towers go many levels deep,” says Stein. “My contact used to operate deep down in one of them. I just hope he's still in business.”

  “This contact...who is he?” asks Drake.

  “An arms dealer, illegal of course, but powerful enough for us to leave him alone. I dealt with him when I was a Councillor. We'd let him operate as long as he paid us a monthly levy.”

  “Sounds corrupt.”

  “Oh, it was. That was part of the reason I got so disillusioned. By the sounds of it, things have only gotten worse.”

  “And if this man isn't there?” asks Drake.

  “We have to hope, young man, that he is.”

  That's not all we have to hope for. As we approach the city, towards the landing docks over the wall, I notice the sight of guards lingering at the customs checkpoint. The last time I came here, when we stowed away in a container ship from Eden, there was no such presence.

  “OK, now what?” I ask. Everyone else sees them.

  “Don't panic, child,” says Stein confidently. “All of you, put on your morph masks.”

  “But they don't know my face,” says Drake.

  “They may have footage from the prison break. Do it,” he says. Stein, it appears, has not only made a quick and full recovery, but has taken up the roll of leading the mission. It's odd to see Drake defer so easily.

  We all don our masks, including Stein. Given the situation, I hardly manage a giggle as the men's faces change. My handsome father, suddenly, isn't so handsome any more.

  “They will scan us,” says Stein. “Obviously, we cannot let that happen.”

  “So what do you suggest.”

  “There's no option. Take them out. Then we run. If we can reach my contact, we'll be safe.”

  “But you don't even know if he's there!” I say.

  “We have to trust in faith, girl. There's no other choice.”

  We prepare ourselves in the belly of the plane, donning concealed armour and weaponry. No heavy firearms this time to give ourselves away. We'll want to take them out quickly, and silently, so as to avoid causing a stir.

  Thankfully, the gathering of guards are all concentrated in a single area. There are four of them, standing at a checkpoint along a boardwalk. Any aircraft touching down on the landing pads will need to pass through in order to enter the city.

  I look close through the window and see that they're holding heavy weaponry. If we get near enough, however, we can take them out without a shot being fired.

  A quick strike of concern rushes through me...what if a Watcher has seen this already? We're close to Eden now, close enough that the Watchers stationed there will no doubt pick up any danger this close to the city.

  Is this another trap? Are we just being lured in again?

  I have no time to question things further or voice my concerns. The aircraft descends quickly and hits the landing pad heavily. He's clearly out of touch.

  “Cyra, you and I will go ahead,” says Drake. “Markus, stay here with Stein, prepare to join us once the coast is clear.”

  Drake looks at me and nods. “Ready?”

  “As I'll ever be.”

  His hand reaches forward, pushes the button, and the door slides open with a hiss. We step out onto the landing platform and descend the steps towards the ground. Ahead of us, the four guards stare suspiciously and raise their weapons.

  “Who are you? What are you doing in New Atlantis?”

  We don't answer, but keep on walking.

  “Who are you!” says the man, more aggressively this time.

  “We have cargo,” says Drake.

  “Cargo? What cargo? Why are you flying a Custodian aircraft? Where are your uniforms?!”

  The four men get more edgy with every step we take. Soon, though, we're getting near...almost close enough to strike.

  “Calm down, please,” says Drake. “Scan our bar codes and you'll see that everything is fine.”

  He's set the trap. One intended to get us close, right among them. They shift nervously and look at each other, unsure of what to do. We inch closer, confidently. We know there's nothing they can do to us.

  I keep an eye out as we go, searching left and right beyond them where the city extends into the distance. There's little activity in the landing port, no sign of other guards approaching. I look to the sky, expecting to see another plane swoop down with Ajax on board. But there's nothing. No sign of danger.

  My attention turns back to the men. Drake and I are soon close enough to make our move.

  “OK,” says a guard, “show us your wrists and put them into the scanner. Slowly now.”

  They each step back a single pace and hold their weapons at our heads. It's not far enough. Drake half turns his head to me and I see his eyes gesture to the two guards on the right. Then he winks, and makes his move.

  His attack is sudden and ferocious. So quick that the men have no time to react. He springs forward like a cat, darting in and, in a single move, striking both of the men with each of his fists. It's so quick that I get to see the entire episode before I realise I have to do the same.

  The two guards to the right turn their attention to Drake, swinging their guns in his direction. I don't let them fire. I move in, swinging my pistol from beneath my clothing, and clatter it into the head of the first guard. The other gets the same treatment a split second later.

  All four are on the floor before they can even react.

  Drake immediately turns back to the plane. Markus comes rushing out quickly, Stein in his wake, keeping pace as best he can. I marvel at the change in him. How only this morning he'd barely been able to stand, and now is able to run on those creaking bones and joints. The medication administered to him, I can only assume, has played a fairly large role in that miraculous transformation.

  They join us, and we move fo
rward as quickly as possible, moving along the board walk and towards the city. Our attack, quick as it was, appears to have gone largely unnoticed. But not completely. I hear a voice behind us and see a man emerge from another aircraft stationed in the landing docks.

  “Hey! What are you doing! Stop them!”

  His calls draw attention to the guards sprawled on the floor. Other people take notice, watching as we reach the perimeter of the city. Nearby, the shipping docks buzz with people going about their business. Many look up with disinterest as we rush on. Clearly, here in New Atlantis, such commotion is a common occurrence.

  We turn into the main city, reaching the walkways that pass between the buildings rising up from the water. It's more crowded now, men and women of questionable ethics flowing this way and that across the network of paths. We fuse into the throng and slow our pace. Behind, no one seems to be chasing. The calls for us to be stopped have faded into the background.

  We filter off down a side alley between two towering structures and catch our breath. Stein appears to be suffering the most, perspiring and looking a little spaced out.

  “I'm OK, I'm fine,” he says when Drake asks him how he's feeling. “Let's just keep going.”

  We continue on without delay, sneaking off down side streets towards a more unsavoury part of town. There's a grim, garish feel to the place, the area lit with neon lights, the scent of drugs and alcohol and cheap perfume carried on the air.

  Stein looks about the place like he's looking at an old friend.

  “It's strange being back here,” he mutters, half to himself. “It hasn't changed a bit.”

  I hope that the very reason we're here hasn't changed either.

  “How old was your contact when you last saw him?” I ask.

  “Oh...not as old as I was, but a lot older than you, Cyra. By now, he'll be an old man.”

  We continue on, going deeper into this vulgar district. The buildings look rotten, the place decaying from the inside out. The men we pass look pale and ill. The women appear unwashed and dirty. Many look like they live on the streets, begging for scraps of food to get by.

  We approach a building ahead. It reaches up above the waterline below by a couple of stories. Beneath us, however, you can see the shadow of the building extend into the watery blackness.

  “This is it,” says Stein. “Let's hope he's home.”

  Outside, two men stand, either side of the doorway. They wear black leather, hold heavy guns, maintaining a constant vigil. It's a good sign.

  We approach, and their eyes trace our steps.

  “What do you want?” one asks.

  “We're here to see Cassius Duke,” says Stein.

  I hold my breath. The guards look at one another, then back to Stein.

  “Who are you?”

  “Just an old associate of Mr Duke. I haven't been here in many years. Is he home?”

  The guards share a look again.

  “He is.” I feel a wave of relief rush through me...he's alive. “But, he's not expecting anyone.”

  “I'm sure he'll want to see me. We go back a long way.”

  “What is your name? I will have to relay the message.”

  “Just tell him that the Councillor is here after many years. He'll understand.”

  The guards look at Stein with quizzical stares. A moment passes where I think entry will be denied, and we'll have no choice but to use more force. Then, one guard nods to the other, turns to open the door, and disappears inside.

  “He'll be just a minute,” says the other guard.

  A period of slight awkwardness follows. No one knows quite where to look. We all just stand in silence until the door opens once again and the guard steps out.

  “Mr Duke will be happy to accept you. Follow me.”

  I file in behind Stein and Drake, Markus at the back, passing through the heavy metal doors and into a dim, featureless interior. There's little here aside from a lift immediately ahead. We're led towards it.

  “Go inside, press the button for...”

  “Underwater 12,” says Stein, cutting the guard off. “If my memory serves me correctly.”

  “Yes,” says the guard. “Mr Duke will be waiting for you. You'll have to leave your weapons here.”

  Stein nods to all of us and we pass over our weaponry to the guard. Then he pats us down to ensure we have nothing else hidden beneath our clothes. Drake looks particularly put off by the physical contact, but doesn't say a word.

  We go inside, press the button, and begin dropping down into the depths. Markus and Drake continue to inspect every inch of their surroundings with wonder and intrigue. Stein just stands, relaxed, perhaps still intoxicated by the thought of being free from that hell hole we found him in. He holds a perpetual half smile on his face, his eyes twinkling like a child's. It's all in stark contrast to the gravity of the situation, and certainly to the expression I hold; hooded eyes, set jaw, brought about by a constant feeling of unease.

  The door pings, the old lift slides open, and I stare out into a more brightly lit room.

  And there, standing ahead of us, is an old, hunched man, draped in finery and looking at us with a keen interest.

  He waddles forward, short and fat and completely bald, with two further armed guards to his side.

  Stein steps out first, the rest of us stay a pace behind.

  “Well, old friend, you've changed,” he says.

  Duke continues to stare, confused.

  “You're not the man I was expecting,” he croaks. His voice is weak, broken by excess smoking and age. “You're not Aeneas Stein.”

  Stein laughs, reaches to his face, and pulls away the morph mask.

  “Now, Cassius, I need your help...”

  26 - An Unlikely Ally

  I sit with Drake and Markus at a small table in a corner of a lavishly decorated room. The walls are maroon and covered in paintings. Well crafted ornaments and statues from centuries past are dotted everywhere. There's a theme of power and strength, two qualities that I suspect Cassius Duke has taken a great deal of interest in over his many years on this earth.

  He sits on the other side of the room in quiet discussion with Stein. Guards linger around us. It seems that Duke isn't yet sure if we're friend or foe.

  All of our eyes stick to the pair. They look of similar age; in fact, if anything, Stein looks the slightly younger of the two. Their physiques are contrasting; one short and fat, the other tall and lean, owing to their two lifestyles. Gluttony and greed against captivity and suffering.

  After a few minutes, we're called over to join them, and take seats around the table. Duke clips his fingers and water, tea, and various foods are brought out. The sight of it makes me realise how hungry I am, but I maintain my poise and hold back from sampling the offerings until permission is granted.

  “Please, do eat and drink,” says Duke in his raspy tone.

  The food is a luxury I haven't enjoyed since Eden. Rich, delicious, and hugely satisfying. As I munch on a chicken leg, I listen to the conversation around me. It starts with Duke.

  “So, here is what I understand: you three broke Aeneas here out of Tartarus with the aim of getting into Eden to assassinate Augustus Knight. You have come here because I'm the only one who can help you do it. The question is, why would I do such a thing?”

  He looks at each of us, but none have the answer. None but Stein.

  “Because, old friend, if you do so, you'll be handsomely compensated when we get the job done.”

  “Well, I'm happy enough as it is. I have all the money I need, and all the power. I'm an old man, Aeneas. Why would I risk the wrath of Eden on such a whim. You have clearly forgotten what you're up against. You have no chance against Knight.”

  I stop, mid chew, with a chicken leg in my hand. Once more his words bring home the impossibility of the task.

  “With your help, Cassius, we can succeed.”

  “Why do you think that? What could an old man, a couple of men from the De
adlands, and a girl do to Knight? You won't get within a hundred yards of him.”

  “We will,” says Stein defiantly.

  “And even if you did,” continues Duke, “why would I want Knight gone? I've cooperated happily with him for decades, as you well know, and he's made me a very rich man. If I help you, and you fail, I'm done, finished.”

  “That's not true,” cuts in Drake, finding his voice. “No one knows we've come down here. No one will know you've helped us.”

  “But, my boy, the point still stands: why would I want to help you?”

  Drake has no answer.

  “Because, if you do, we will give you the city,” says Stein. “If we kill Knight, and take power, everything will change. It will be a whole new world, old friend, and you'll be right at the forefront of that. Doesn't that excite you?”

  He's goading him well, using his words effectively, picking on his weaknesses; a lust for power, an ambition, perhaps, to rise from the shadows and become a more legitimate authority here in New Atlantis.

  After a moment of pondering, Duke speaks again.

  “And how would I take charge of this city, even if you did take power? New Atlantis has always been a free city, Aeneas. No single man governs here.”

  “A free city, yes. And if we succeed, the entire country will be freed from the shackles of Eden. They have controlled and manipulated everyone for too long. We're here to put a stop to that, to reset things, make them as they once were.”

  “I just don't see how you'll succeed, my friend. I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no...”

  “No...”

  Everyone looks at me. I drop the chicken leg to my plate and swallow my mouthful.

  “You...please, you have to help us.”

  Duke looks at me at first with surprised eyes. Then, as I speak, they turn mournful.

  “My friends were taken when we broke out Mr Stein. We...I can't lose them. Please, help us.”

  My voice is soft, and I see Duke reacting. I push a little further, and allow my eyes to well with tears. I'm tugging on his heartstrings with all I have, playing up the innocent girl card. I catch sight of Stein, and his eyes tell me to keep going...