Authors: Matt Stephens
~oo00oo~
Yasi was not taken back to the Dungeons. Vandark was escorted by three Wildmen wherever he went, but they stayed mostly out of earshot. Vandark had no apparent fear when it came to wandering around the Underside.
The Riverfolk were deferential to him. They did everything he told them to do; even when he went down to the Seven Steps and set up the stalls all over again. What had been torn down by his forces a few days before, was rebuilt by the Riverfolk in less than an hour.
Yasi was struck most by the silence. The Lostkind were everywhere; as usual; but not one of them was talking. They were milling around, like cardboard cut-outs of people trying desperately to play it cool. But Yasi knew they were all watching.
Vandark stepped back after finishing up the repairs to one of the stalls, and looked across the crowd. "When I came here; the people here were living off things stolen from dumpsters. Look around; look up. You have the run of the greatest city in the world; and you don't care. More money goes through this city than most countries; and you don't care. Five star restaurants; power and fame; and you don't care. Late at night, you listen to echoes of the greatest music ever written; played by the greatest musicians ever assembled. You should be sitting up there in the front row. At the very least; you should be living like people. Nobody should be eating out of dumpsters. Nobody should be wearing clothes stolen from five random strangers. You deserve
better
than that!"
Even as he was speaking; the Borrowers were filing along the Seven Steps, bringing their cargo. Vandark himself claimed the first load and began spreading it out. It was food. Not in foil or Tupperware containers like it had always been before. This food was coming in large pots, still steaming. The Riverfolk were quick to assemble burners to warm it up; stack after stack of food boxes were brought to the stalls.
"No trade, no barter, no price!" Vandark declared; his voice carrying in the unusual silence. "It is a gift. A taste of things to come. I came here because my own Underside refused when I made them this offer. Up Above; this food would be slated for judges, lawyers, millionaires and congressmen. The output of the finest five-star caterers in New York City will feed your children tonight. It is exceptional; and it is no less than you all deserve!"
And despite herself Yasi, could feel her stomach growl. A thousand world class meals were being laid out before them; and she hadn't eaten in two days.
Yasi could sense the Lostkind looking at her, waiting to see what she did. Vandark peeked at her over his shoulder as he personally set out the food; and held the bowl out to her. She felt sick. Vandark had kept her hungry for exactly this moment. He wanted her starving enough to pounce on the food he gave her, because once she did, none of the Lostkind would refuse what Vandark was giving them.
The silence hung in the air, and suddenly it was all Vandark and Yasi: One hungry, the other offering beautiful food; and a thousand eyes waiting for a decision, waiting for permission.
Vandark's face softened after an endless moment, and he picked up two plates. "I understand. You don't trust me. I don't blame you. If it makes things easier on you; we will step out; and leave you to eat in peace." He returned her gaze to Yasi. "Won't we, Yasi?"
Yasi did not respond at first, but had to follow when Vandark left the Twelfth Level. She peeked over her shoulder past the Wildmen, and saw the Lostkind running forward, eager to eat. She caught a glimpse of more of the Borrowers coming in, walking carefully to keep the cargo level.
More food. Vandark isn't letting anyone go hungry.
Yasi found herself almost smiling, and a thrill of mortal fear went through her.
If they were hungry, they might fight back.
~oo00oo~
"I feel like half of New York just fell on me." Keeper croaked.
"It was worse than losing the Duel." Yasi was on the floor next to her cot; hugging her knees to her chin. "Keep, we got a real problem here. People are getting more under Vandark than they did under us. Better food, more stuff… Keep, he's going to do it. He'll have bought their loyalty inside six weeks. Even if we think of a way to fight him… It'll be our guys that fight for him."
Keeper smirked crookedly. "Look behind you."
Yasi very slowly turned to look. Kamy was at the other end of the Chapel, casually walking away from a hastily scrawled slogan on the wall.
Three Rules, Always!
Yasi grinned. There was still resistance here. The invaders had broken the Three Cardinal Rules; and the Lostkind could forgive the invasion faster than that.
Keeper nodded; knowing what the Shinobi was thinking. "You're worried, because Vandark can improve living conditions. But that's like eating an entire Pizza. It tastes good, it's easy; it's fast. But it'll make you sick, because you're working contrary to what's good for you. Vandark's breaking the rules. That's a hard thing to keep going, and a hard habit to break."
"Keep, doing what's easy and enjoyable, but bad for you... is the wrong way to live; but there are still plenty of people who live that way, and don't care what the consequences are." Yasi sighed morosely. "It's my fault. You and Dorcan and Archivist were right: I froze everyone out. They hate Vandark; but they don't particularly like me. The one reason they all had to follow me anywhere was the certainty that I would protect them... And I lost."
"Maybe so; but the game ain't over yet. Time will tell." Keeper was drifting again, low on energy.
Yasi looked back at the slogan Kamy had painted.
Kamy is six years old. She didn't come up with this on her own. Somewhere out there; someone is still fighting.
~oo00oo~
Days passed; and things moved quickly, in both the Underside, and New York.
In the Underside, Yasi slept in the Oubliette, and spent her days under guard by Vandark's side at every step. The Underside had been rebuilt; and the Labyrinth passages cleared. The doors had changed from what the Shinobi knew.
Yasi had asked Keeper where the bodies were put; and nobody seemed to know. Yasi was allowed to visit Keeper; and was quietly made aware of a few facts. The surviving Shinobi had escaped capture; nobody had heard from them since The Duel.
Vandark had made an effort to find them, and failed. Yasi hesitated to grin; knowing that the resistance was the only reason she was alive. In the week since the Victory of the Wildmen; the Resistance had done nothing more than put up the slogan; like the Resistance Fighters of old:
Three Rules, Always!
Those were the only rules that Vandark was breaking.
The food kept coming; and it was excellent. The Watchers brought in new information that tabloids would kill to get, and Vandark began stockpiling it. The Archives and the Whisper Gallery had to be reopened as a result.
The Riverfolk had become Vandark's police force; and had the run of the Underside. One or two took advantage; causing trouble for the Lostkind. Vandark's few Wildmen put a stop to it, permanently; and the Riverfolk behaved themselves.
To all appearances, it was peaceful. There were no riots, demonstrations, or brawls with the Invaders. Vandark's rule had gone out of its way to make the Lostkind comfortable.
On the surface, things were happening quickly. Drew and his friends made their trip, collecting the items on the list. Vincent's friends, a network of people that nobody else wanted, were eager to help someone who had gone out of his way to treat them with respect and kindness; gathering information the same way the Watchers did.
Connie worked with Vincent when Tecca wasn't watching. Connie knew most of the same Homeless people Vincent did; both from the Soup Kitchen and the Free Clinic; and took messages for him. She was more than a little surprised to see Tecca had stayed when she went home. Her apartment had a spare room, and Tecca had nowhere else to go. Every night she would come home and find him waiting for her. The two of them had slipped into domesticity with surprising ease.
After a week, Connie knew they were rapidly approaching the point where it couldn't last; and Tecca did too. They had carefully avoided all mention of the future; but it was time to force the issue.
~oo00oo~
Gill was parked out the front of Connie's building, with Vincent in the passenger seat. "Vincent." He said quietly. "Are you sure?"
Vincent didn't answer right way.
Gill turned to look at him properly. "Once you do this; there's no going back."
"I know." Vincent decided finally. "But I have to try." He held out the folder. It was bulging with printouts; scraps of paper with addresses and various other notes written in various scrawls. "Everything I could find in the archives; everything I could get from memory, everything that my friends below the Poverty Line could find in time. It's all here.
Every
entrance to the Secret City that we can find." He gave Gill an intense look. "You understand what I'm giving you?"
Gill nodded respectfully. "I'll do the job Vincent. I'll do it right; I swear."
~oo00oo~
"Tecca, there's something I want to discuss with you." Connie said quietly as she placed the hot chocolate in front of him.
Tecca looked up at her over the rim of his mug, instantly on guard. "What?"
Connie stayed calm. She had spent years with the kids at the Clinic. Children from the streets, or from rough homes were always on guard, had a very good grip on the harshest parts of reality. Any conversation with them was done with a measure of suspicion.
Connie spoke briskly and professionally. She was negotiating a tough deal. "I like having you here. But sooner or later, somebody's going to notice."
"Nobody sees a Watcher." Tecca scorned.
"Even so, it's been a week." Connie pressed on. "I was wondering, if you'd be willing to do me a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"Well, there's something I never told you about me and Vincent..."
"You wanted kids, and he didn't." Tecca cut in. "You think it was because part of him was hoping to go back to the Underside."
Connie paused. "Yes." She said simply. "Thing is... I'm not as young as I used to be... Having a kid is hard enough at the best of times. So I was hoping you might be willing to do me a favor and be sort of a trial run."
Tecca bit his lip. "What do I have to do?"
"Well, basically you'd pretend I was your mom. You know, like that woman who always brought you into the Clinic. You had me fooled for three years before I found out about the Underside. You seemed like a natural."
"You want me to pretend to be your kid?" Tecca seemed stunned.
"I think it'd be good for you. You'd be able to go to school, you'd be able to graduate... You'd be able to stay here as long as you wanted."
"I can go to school?" Tecca's head tilted. "I've never been to a school before. Archivist teaches the kids in the Underside; I remember some of the Watchers telling me about when they were kids. Seemed interesting." He kept his jaded eyes on hers. "Different to what I'm used to."
Connie nodded, and slid a plate over. "Have a cookie."
Tecca looked at the plate like there were strings attached, but took one. "Food's good here." He admitted finally.
Connie held her breath and pulled a few folded pages out of her pocket; setting them down on the table.
"What are they?" Tecca asked around a mouthful of cookie.
Connie took a breath. "Adoption papers."
Tecca froze mid-chew, and swallowed thickly. "Why are you doing this?"
"That's not an answer." Connie said gently.
Awkwardly, Tecca began to answer her; when there was knock on the door. Connie gave Tecca an imperious look. "Saved by the bell."
Despite himself, Tecca smiled back at her.
Connie opened the door to Vincent who gave her a steady look. "Show time." He said simply.
Tecca froze. "What do you mean?"
Vincent gave Tecca a level gaze. "We're going back."
Connie looked stricken, and Tecca rose to his feet smoothly.
~oo00oo~
The Throne Room had been repaired too. Where once there was a table that everyone gathered at, and three seats for her, Keeper and Archivist… now there was just Vandark's Throne.
He had held court every morning, taking reports from the Borrowers, giving orders to the Watchers; mediating disputes, and answering questions. Very few were willing to ask questions, and Yasi was slightly sick to see that they were coming to him at all.
Vandark was polite, reasonable, patient... And Yasi hated every minute that she spent there; hands bound. He'd used her as a coat rack; putting his cloak around her shoulders as he held court. Despite herself, she found she was nodding along with him; agreeing with half the things he said.
The Watchers were given new orders; no longer following the Homeless and the urban Explorers; now turning their eyes on the wealthy. Powerbrokers all over the city now had shadows that they did not recognize. Their homes were being invaded and searched with practiced skill. Each Watcher knew the penalty against his or her loved ones. The Powers Above were having all their dirtiest secrets and hidden loves collected and cataloged for later use.