by Jack Lance
A member of the gang elder to the mouthy one called Thom picked up one of their rods and threw it after them. It clattered around the road between them, but did no further harm.
Jayne backed away from the group as they turned in her direction, but stopped as she bumped into someone.
Frightened, she turned to see the shorter woman, dressed in a lived-in nurse’s uniform.
“Please don’t hurt me. I just want to go home ok?” she said shaking.
The girl smiled in a tired way and said, “You don’t have to worry.”
She walked past her to the gang and the man called Thom said “Yeah, relax. We’re a nice gang.”
“Really?” Jayne said looking him over.
“Nah, not really." Thom said, and began skating around the width of the tunnel entrance, ignoring her.
The others followed him as one laughed raucously and shouted “Nice gang! Hah!”
The white haired girl glared futily, at them then back to Jayne and calmly said “I’m Faye Scotia. I’m a nurse for South... Err… East Syndicate. Maybe you should come with us.”
Jayne shook her head slightly then Faye went on “We have an errand to run. An appointment to keep. Then we can take you home. You can’t go home alone from here, and we can’t turn around.”
“What’s your name?” one of the gang said as he rolled by them slowly. He was the tallest and most well built of the bunch, and wore a headband in his long hair reflecting a narcissism despite his young years. “I’m Fenn Dore, the hardest... errr... the best fighter.
Fenn came closer to them and for some reason Jayne didn't feel afraid. He pointed to the others as they bombed around the small space.
"That guy's the oldest, Sorbe Malcolm. He's actually over five hundred years old, and older than all of us in real years. But he's been here longer than all of us put together, over a century. Doesn't look it does he? That's Mach Hadron, he's a psycho, you won't like him stay away from him. The cheeky bastard is Thom Gubichayan, he's smarter than Sorbe... and this little fella …”
He pointed at the short girl that had been knocked unconscious, now being helped to her feet by Sorbe Malcolm.
“Juille. But we call her Allstar. We work in a robo-factory near here.” Fenn said, pointing at his oily shirt. “And you are?”
Faye Scotia waved her hands between them and said "You don't have to answer that if you..."
“I'm Wendall Jayne.” she said and smiled at them slightly, and then together they began walking through the factories.
The two ladies followed the more energetic men as they rolled dreamily in figure eights along the low roads leading northward, in the opposite direction to the one taken by the more violent gang. Jayne and Faye found a comfortable distance to walk behind the others, talking on and off about the Sagars and the craft fair. She left out the story of her unsuccessful date, although she had an urge inside to unload it onto someone.
They walked for miles around the city perimeter, though district after tunnel after district, until they entered a cavern signposted as Border Sec 3 District.
The place was different to the others on the city outskirts, and was instead filled with a collection of steepled buildings, that got larger incrementally away from the entrance tunnels. They were throwbacks from the original base, with the same old fashioned, sentimental style.
At the far back of the place, set into the outer dome wall was a huge pyramidal ziggurat raising up from behind the other buildings in broad steps to a flat top.
“There.” Faye pointed to the large place, and Jayne followed them up a winding cobblestone street, around each of the buildings, to a wide cobbled square that led to the first steps to the pyramid.
“Where are we going again?” Jayne said as she walked with them
“It’s called The Shell.” Faye said focusing on their destination.
“I’ve heard of it. Solitary confinement right?” Jayne said, and then looked around considering if she should leave now.
Faye looked at her wearily and said “It would be safer if you stuck with us.”
“Who do you know in there?” Jayne said with front.
“Randall, my boyfriend… was caught up in the last escape.”
“That was months ago…” Jayne said while looking up at the gargantuan old complex.
Faye walked on in silence a way, while staring ahead at the place.
“I hope my kid’s alright.” she said, with more than a note of apprehension.
They made their way to the top of the steps then into the temple-like building. They took one of a fan of corridors that branched out from the drafty front entrance. They walked patiently to its end, that seemed to be situated deeper within the wall at a point that felt beyond the borders of the city itself. Here they faced a large hall, hosting a massive hovering bubble of viscous blue liquid that pulsated as if it were organic in nature.
Within the bubble were men and women, each wearing a sensory deprivation helmet in the style of a ridiculous clowns mask. A tube was fed to each from a box at the top part of the bubble, feeding each of them oxygen and food, and excreting wastes. A lightning strike hit each of them at intervals as they stood and watched.
Around them on the walls were blood red murals of faces looking on, like some kind of vindictive audience set in stone.
“Hello?” a voice startled the group from behind.
They turned to see a tall, thin Border Sec officer walk up to them. Jayne took a few steps back instinctively, then stopped herself.
“Farnon.” Faye said and hugged him, and was then greeted by each of the men.
“This is Wendall Jayne.” Fenn gestured to her, and then introduced the officer in kind. “This is Port Farnon, he's alright.”
“Yes, hello.” she said dismissively.
“Just one or two minutes to go.” said Farnon and they all watched the bubble. After a minute one of the bodies floated to the bottom area of the bubble and a valve opened up sucking the body into and then spitting it out of the bubble. The helmet had been released and the muscular man fell in a shower of purple liquid onto the cobble stone floor.
Faye and a couple of the boys ran to him.
They turned him over as he coughed and spat out a mouthful of the coloured liquid.
“Randall?” Farnon said, and for a second the man flinched as if to claw the words away.
“Flynn.” Faye said crying. “Are you still with me?”
The man, Flynn Randall opened his eyes and looked at them, and to his partner, Faye.
He nodded to her and then shakily stood up.
He was naked but Jayne was too upset to care.
“Let’s get out of this hole.” Randall said as they walked past her to the corridor.
They walked around him, holding a long towel over his shoulders as they exited the place, down the steps and then through the police town to one of the tunnels. Jayne walked at a distance behind them, still a little shocked by it all.
They moved to the next apartment district and up a nearby sliproad to the highway, where a hole in the fence led to a waste ground beneath a junction of railroads. Through the maze of supports they could see through the jumble of apartment units.
The floor was jagged and uneven under Randall’s bare feet, but they all made it inside the dark place without anyone else interfering.
Jayne stood back watching the freezing, drafty place and the strange people within it.
“Come on.” Farnon beckoned to them all. “We need to stay out of sight. There’s druggy lookouts in all these districts and they all radio back to Old Gang.”
“And OG knows your getting out The Shell this week.” Faye said. “We tried to keep it a secret. They might want to talk to you… about the people that died. They already talked to Farnon.”
Farnon threw him a big suitcase full of clothes and Randall began to get dressed. Farnon also took clothes from the case and changed from his prim police uniform beside him.
A train rolled by
above and from the industrial districts nearby, the end of shift horns blew.
“Rush hour should give us some cover.” Thom said craning his neck to see the first of the departing workforce.
“Good, let’s go.” Randall said, pulling a light shirt over his shoulders.
He walked past them all as if to lead, and for a moment they stood and watched him, a little sceptical.
Randall stopped beside Jayne and turned to look at them.
“I’ve had worse.” he said, and continued on, fitting a tie as he went.
“Where are we headed?” Randall said, helping Jayne back down to the path from the fence.
The others followed, and Farnon answered “East Syndicate. You won’t have heard… obviously, but South Syndicate has been dissolved. All the districts have been taken over by separate gangs. It’s like Westside now but more lawless.”
“God frickin dammit!” Randall burst out.
“I know friend. I’ll miss those days too.”
“East Syndicate is pure business. If I don’t have a job I might as well make good with a narco pimp.”
“We’ve sorted something out.” Farnon said, stopping him. “We have a contact inside. Importer-exporter type. Says he needs someone like yourself. And best of all, it’s someone else from the escape.”
Faye put her arm around Randall’s shoulder as they walked and said “We’ve got the lot worked out. Our guy Bailey’s deep in with all the major East gangs. He’s the one that mapped our route today, so we could avoid all the arseholes... apart from this one gang. They must have strayed off their own patch. It's all sorted though.”
Randall nodded, and they moved on, with Jayne walking a short way behind.
They made their way to one of the inner neighbourhoods by rail and foot, and by that time Jayne was getting pretty tired. Her feet were throbbing, and she was trying to find the words to say her goodbyes, and make her way back to the Sagar house. Now, with the city center so close she thought it could be her chance.
Unfortunately, as they moved from the neighbourhood’s only rail station and down a long flight of steel steps to the ground she heard behind her on the platform a group of screeching girls, and quickly hurried after the group.
Jayne followed mournfully down to the streets below the forest of towers and windows. Still unable to muster the courage to break away she immediately found herself wishing she had.
It was just the sort of neighbourhood she had painstakingly avoided for years, and so now things were taking another turn for the worse.
All housing districts from the original colony had been constructed with the same layout by and large. They had been quaint, cobbled streets of tall terraces and shopping strands that had then been built upon over and over after the conversion to a prison. Now the apartments dominated the rest, standing over the old, mostly abandoned buildings of old, that served as a kind of basement to the rest and not a lot more.
The streets they walked through here were gaunt and lifeless as a result. Thom, who seemed to be taking over slightly, led them from street to street, to a strand that still served its old purpose. They walked past a few bars and stores to a grocery store near the end, that served as a front for something else.
Since the legal bars had outlawed all narcotics, other pill-bars had been built in hidden places, away from robotic eyes. They headed into one such establishment now, hidden behind the grocery store, that was itself a working food outlet in this neighbourhood.
They entered beneath a low canvas awning and walked through the claustrophobic aisles of fresh veg to the counter. There Thom flashed some kind of hand sign and was let around the counter to a reinforced door leading to the back of the store.
Jayne followed them, trusting so far that they weren’t going anywhere too dangerous. She followed them at the back of the line as they walked through the grocery storage room to another, more regular door, that Fenn and Thom moved up to with some apprehension. They listened slightly to the music within before bulling up and opening it, showing now where they were headed. Her noble heart sank as she found herself led down into a bar steaming with narcotics.
She had heard of these things but never visited one, since she had always strived to live a normal life as she would have done back on the colonies had she not made her mistake.
Once in the place she found herself huddled with the others on a carpet near the bar, overlooked by drunk people on low balconies. A little way across the bar was a gathering of hardcore looking gang members, who themselves became very angry to see them emerge so close beside them.
One of them marched toward them with his arms in the air, and was followed by a few others backing him up.
“What you doin’ here, fool?” he said, and Thom stepped forward, flashing the same hand-sign as he had before.
“No man, I don’t know you.” the gang member said and punched Thom hard on the side of the face.
As Thom staggered against one of the small tables there was a static whistle from a speaker beside another reinforced door, on the opposite side of the bar.
“They’re with me.” it said, and the door buzzed and unlocked.
They all walked quickly to the door with Jayne close behind, while Thom stayed a moment to look at the gang member straight before backing down and following them.
Through a thick foundation wall of bricks she found herself in another building, and the knot in Jayne’s gut began to untighten.
The door was closed and locked behind, and they now stood on the ground floor of a house that somebody had abandoned maybe centuries ago. The thump of the music from the pill-bar could be felt all through the dusty halls. There was a collection of old furniture that hadn’t been removed from the place, and a cradle that on inspection, Jayne found was empty.
They walked through each of the museum-like rooms to what would have been the front room, and found there a man with his back to them, beside two cubicles that had been sectioned off with a soundproof rubber wall and windows. He had his head bowed low and was rubbing the back of his neck back and forth as if he were under immense pressure. The hot glare from the bare bulb above him wouldn’t have helped.
“Isn’t it quite odd…” the man said, and Jayne found she vaguely recognized the voice. “How nobody has even considered the possibility that these narrow boxes we live in are another part of the prison?”
“Bailey?” Fenn said, and Aaron Bailey turned to greet them with a smile.
“Part of a design...” Bailey said smiling. “You haven’t considered it have you? I know.”
Jayne recognized him immediately as Bede’s boyfriend that she had met passingly on her exit from the craft fair. He held an apple that he was cutting slices from with a small but sharp knife.
“Who cares anyway?” Sorbe said.
“Well you should. We all should. Nobody should live like this.” Bailey said walking toward them, and gesturing around with the knife. “Scratching around for scraps…”
He played with the apple a little, and looked over their faces. Jayne hid behind them all but he knew she was there.
He ate a piece from the knife then pointed with it over their shoulders toward the bar they had come from.
“Sorry about them, they’re a bit on edge. Another one of their lot got cattled.” he said while chewing. “I probably should have told them you were coming.”
Fenn eyed him harshly and said “Err. Yeah.”
“So this is Flynn Randall.” Bailey said stepping past Thom to Randall. “I don’t remember you from the South Syndicate escape. I’m actually half thinking about starting another escape myself.”
“Well that’s not for me, but thanks.” Randall spoke up. “I’m just after a job.”
“Nobody’s escaping. Not yet anyway. Right now I need a minder. Someone to watch my back while I’m dealing with certain types of associates. Selling to these gangs isn’t my usual type of work.”
“You don’t seem to be doing too badly.” Randall said
looking around at the men in the cubicle, who were concentrating hard on their craft. “What is it you do exactly?”
“I’ve inherited an import export company from a relation. Turns out my cousin had ties deep into East Syndicate, and used the company as a front to traffic narcotics to the local drug lords. Gangs like these…” Bailey thumbed the two men in the chambers.
“These guys work for the gang you met outside, that work this neighbourhood on behalf of East Syndicate. These guys are writing messages for East Syndicate spies in Old Gang. One of my little sidelines is to deliver those messages. I've got my fingers in many pies.”
“Sounds pretty dangerous.” Randall said, sounding a little fed up, but totally unafraid.
Bailey smiled and said “These guys make it undetectable. They write direct to microfilm with a needle. Even if we get searched they won’t see these notes.”
“What are you packing anyway?” Randall asked. “If I’m going into OG turf I’ll need some little pistols.”
“This is all we need.” Bailey gestured with his apple knife. “That and a smile. I hope that doesn’t disturb you, Randall. I hate guns.”
“I couldn’t give toss, mate.” Randall said bluntly. “Just point n click. I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
“Randall…” Thom said.
“No, it’s good.” Bailey said. “I need someone with a pair of balls, and preferably not so many brains. If you need a few days to rest up, do it. Then call in to my office.”
“I don’t need a few days.” Randall said dumbly.
“I need you at full strength. Faye, you sort this out for me.”
Faye energized and said “Ok, Mr Bailey.”
“Good business, as always. Goodbye for now.” Bailey said and turned away, smiling. He returned to the place they’d found him beneath the bulb.
Jayne watched the conversation from the shade behind them, and when they all turned to leave she backed away ahead of them.
The knot in her gut returned, but she walked to the door and pushed the button to open it. She walked out first into the narcotic sweetened bar, and looked at the gang that she found were looking in her direction. She smiled awkwardly and walked forward with the bag of paintings covering her knees.
