Excerpt: Attirs War; Portal City

Attirs War
The smell of aged sap filled the mound with a bleary tang that spoke of the good production of the days work. Insects of all types gathered to conduct after hours business at the rest mounds. There were beetles and flies of many different regions from all walks of life talking and drinking and making promises to exchange cargos.
Attir had come to the burdgeoning metropolis of Gurgens for this very fact. It was a trade city, where stange and forign insects could come and find work, and at the same time a stranger was nothing new. The latter being most important to him.
He made a quick check to see that he was blending well enough. He’d donned a fine coat of clay and pigment to match the local pigment customs and then put on a simple workmans pheromone to cover it all. As near as he could tell it left him looking like any ordinary lowly bug laborer.
The worker next to him was deeply into his drink and fervently expressing his dreams of becoming a rich and powerful insect, rather then spending the rest of his life as a laborer and impoverished bug.
“Better that that some mica dusted fragranced aristocrat. I’d never be able to live as one of those self important insects.” He’d been through this in other cities and other small villages, and each time he had found no place to belong. “I need to be in contact with my world and experience it in the raw, not live in grand spires and adorned with more glitter then the night skies.”
The insect beside him cackled at the simple man he saw Attir to be. But the cackle died quickly when he noticed a new form nearby.
“Careful bug, those dusted and fragranced aristocrats made this city a haven of trade and give you work enough to assure food for your belly. Or would you rather live savage like your ancestors, scrounging around on all six, praying to your brutal and fickle higher powers?”
Attir cringed by not in guilt or shame but only now realizing that he had made a grave mistake in expressing himself out loud. He had drawn attention to himself. The Insect addressing him stood with a look of glee, at the prospect of some lower bug to torment. His features not as guilded and heavily swathed in gossamer pheromones imported from forign lands, as a high ranking city official but he was sufficiently decorated to show he was no lowly labor bug either.
Attir had seen it before and knew he’d likely see it at another time in another place. It was something inherent in the insect cultures around the world, that some bugs rose up in the ranks by throwing others down into the mud.
Attir let it settle on himself, so be it, he had no problem being among the mud. So he simply gave the other insect a nod of acknowledgment and settled in to await the inevitable.
“Answer me! Are you civilized enough to recognize your betters or are you savage?” The fellow was now backed up by two other bigger insects, who though lesser adorned and obviously of a working class, considered themselves above such as Attir. He reached forward grabbed Attir by one of his antenna and jerked him around to face him straight on. Pressing Attir against the wall with the force of his remaining three arms. “We don’t abide savages in our midst here.” The rough shove came as expected but what followed caught Attir off guard.
He’d faced similar confrontations in the past, and simply weathered the abuse, simply because it did no harm to him to be seen as an outsider and someone to be left alone. It was safer that way. They usually walked away proud of themselves for asserting their greatness over the lowly outsider and that was the end. But this was different.
The wealthy insect stood back from him in shock and his expensive pheromone cloack was disarrayed, exposing the fear and hatred of this self righteous fellow. He back pedaled grasping the arms of his supporters to either use them as shields or to direct them forward to the attack. One arm raised In a warding sign and the last pointing directly at Attir.
The digits of the extended hand were smeared with a light brownish red pigment.
“Locust.” The wealthy insect whispered it as a curse, but it rang like a shout in the now silent chamber.
Attir looked down to see his pigments and pharomones in ruins on his thorax, exposing the intricate markings of his clan. Jagged bands of yellow and black woven about, indecipherable to others but a sign of his place among his own kind, a place he no longer held.
Many of the insects who had been gathered in the resting mound either fled or scrambled to take cover from the persived threat of Locusts. But nothing came down o them.
This fact slowly dawned on the wealthy insect and he began to laugh, a cruel edge to his voice.
“Where is your swarm, barbarian? Where are your thousands of kin? Surely you wouldn’t come into our midst alone?” He knew plainly at this point that now barabarian swarm was going to decend oon the city, he knew he faced a lone and abandoned locust and relished this fact. “Take flight Barbarian, while you have the chance. You may just live if you take flight now.”
Attir had no doubts that this fellow was eager to hunt him down, and wanted nothing more then to lead the chase. To glory in leading the locust hunt that would end in Attirs death and the elevation of this wealthy man into the realm of a true aristocrat. And if he could have Attir would have flown and given the man that chance, but the truth was revealed to his opponent by his inaction.
“Ah so you are not some outcast after all, you are an abandoned cripple. Mores the pity that I must face an unworthy opponent.” Emboldened the fellow stepped forward into an attack stance with the confidance that he would bring an end to Attirs exiled life swiftly and with pleasure. A posture and sentiment that would please and strengthen Attir many times before his demise. For it was the look of a fool who judges his opponent too lightly. There are prices to be paid for suchjudgments.
The speed with witch Attir long legs moved was blinding and explosive. The motion was smooth and graceful as any dancer. Tracing a path up the wall, one, two, three reaching strides; on his small feet, bending at the knees, and below that bending back upon themselves again. In the span of a heart beat he was a bugs height up the wall with legs coiled like spings underneath him. Momentum holding back the gravity that held his opponent immobile.
He shot from the wall with an audible snap, on a path toward the wealthy bug and his guardians.
Attir pulled his legs back into the coiled position and turned on his center of gravity, speeding at the trio of harrassers feet first. He had nearly passed over the head of the pompous fool when he twisted around and extended his upper arms to graps him about the neck. Again his legs extended with an explosive snap, connecting solidly with the center of the two goons standing near motionless behind their boss. They skittered across the floor folded up around the injuries, too stunned to make any motion.
The thrust of the kick sent Attir back over top his opponent whome he never loosened his grasp on. The hold and momentum brought him back to his feet with arms over his head bent backward and holding solidly to his opponent. And with one final snap he lefted and hurled the wealthy bafoon forward into the very wall he had run up nearly three heartbeats past.
“You are a great fool, you chose to cause a conflict when one was not needed, and for what? Glory? Power? More mica dust and expensive pheromones from exotic countries? Maybe I am a savage after all. I can see your world from the outside and I don’t like it. I know how to take care of myself, and I can take care of you. There is no place in my world for the likes of them.” Attir sneered at the crumpled forms of the goons on the floor. “There is no place in my world forthe pigments and decorations, and there is no place in my world for the likes of you. Too long I spent trying to blend into this civilization of your, in hopes of finding I know not what. I’m done with that now. I’m leaving this city of fools.” He turned and began to walk out. “If you choose to come after me, you had better come prepared.”
As soon as he was out of sight Attir took his path back around the chamber and headed off in the opposite direction. He knew that he had not ended anything and that soon there would be a chase. It was simply the nature of this type of situation.
“I think by now I’m actually used to this.” He mused.
Seemingly several lifetimes ago he’d been desperate for something lost to him when he was unable to take off with the swarm. He rarely thought about it anymore and had long buried the incident in his mind. But the things that followed him in his lone travels since then he remembered quite clearly . There was always some rich merchant or pompous lord, always, and they always found an outsider to denigrate in an effort to raise their own esteem.
“I was such a fool at first.” He shook his head remembering those very first few encounters after he’d tried to blend in and hide where he came from.
Attir stopped his musing and came to a sudden alert. His eveironment was intensely quiet, too quiet. With the exception of a light moan of air through the upper spires of the interconnected mounds around him, not a single sound came to his many ears. He raised his undamaged wing in a gesture that was part reflexive preparation for flight and part effort to better hear what was going on.
“Flight! Rot and fester, they called in a flight.” The moan of the wind built to a steady hum that confirmed his fear. Winged guard had been alerted and sent to deal with the Locust among the city spire.
Attir legs began to take stride without him even planning to he found one foot a long leap ahead of the other and in quick succession they pumped, driving him with that dancers grace that had served him so well in his conflict back in the chamber.
Strides that made him seem to both glide and bounce along the alleyways twisting along the mounds, turning and doubling back without any seeming pattern to their frantic pace. Bounding up walls and across bridges of the complex inner city.
“Upward and outward, I’ve got to get out.” He said setting his eys on the daylit sky through the opening in the top of the city structure. “Up and out, up and out.” He chanted, matching the words to the rythme of his strides and bounds, becoming mixed with the mantra.
The droneing hum of the wings was getting closer and beginning to be easily heard over his own vice and the snapping of his long strides. The tone drove him harder toward his goal, with all attempts and changing directions and weaving down allies abandoned in favor of rapidly leaping upon and over individual mounds and spires to higher levels and following wider and straighter main roads.
The insects around and about in the light of the afternoon stopped and stared, likely alert and excited to see a Locust, a lone and single Locust on the run through the city. It would be a story many of them would tell the larval children for many years afterwards. The danger and excitement of it all.
Only for Attir the danger was very real, and the excitement was most definitely not. There was no secret that Locust swarms could be brutal and hard on a landscape, and so any locust, alone or in small numbers, were hunted and killed on sight. No nation had succeeded in fighting a full swarm, and the only successful strategy way to bar the entrance to the city and go to cover.
Attir did not spare thought to the roles each side played, wether they were justified in hunting him or wether the nomadic swarm had rights to do as it always did when swarms formed. All his energy and though was in the form of the simple chant “Up and out.” Never looking back but simply locing his gaze with the crisp blue sky above him.
“up and ou, up and out , up and out…” He snapped his legs in as he cleared a ridge to a slightly higer platform, and thrust with full force to send hi up onto the roof of the chamber right infront of him. Bounding several steps before pulling into a crouch and bounding with a snap up onto the spire of a nearby tower. Letting his legs coil like springs as he hit feet first he kicked off again before his momentum stopped his first direction.
Leaps and bounds drove him higher and faster, ever onward to the sight of the ridge at the top of the colony. He knew that no insect left the confines of the city in the light of day. At least not lightly. Many insects never left the city they grew up in during the entire course of their lives.
The outside world was a mysterious region of danger and monsters, to be fear, feared like locusts are feared. Savage and untamed, each suited to the other, he sought to get out of this maddening place of ‘civilised behavior’.
“Up and out.” The sound of his own voice help hide the louder sound of the flight approaching from city center. He could taste the air he was so close, maddeningly close yet no matter how his legs ate at the distance it alays seemed just that close and no closer.
He kept to his maddened pace driving himself forward with single minded intent, but it began to come clear to him that he had no hope of making the top edge of the colony. And his fear bore fruit as a stone slammed down a single hands bredth from where he placed his foot on the next stride.
He could do nothing but run, he had no rocks to throw and with his crippled wing he could not gain advantage in a fight against one flying opponent let alone a whole flight.
“Flee this place. I must get out into the daylight.” He drove himself on but looked for any place he could dive down through and lose an airborne adversary.
The next stone struck him hard between his right sholders, unbalancing his stride and sendinging him into a tumbling roll across the platform bridging the two towers high above the bottom of the city. The air up here moved with the gentlest hint of a breeze, smelling faintly of the the clover blossoms and grass forests above.
Attir lay still for a moment, his mind reeling from the run and the stine that had stuck him.
“Get up and move.” He grunted to himself, desperate to get away.
Though some part of him knew there was no place he could get to that the attackers couldn’t find him. No easy way out. He could either stop and die fighting or gain his feet again and die running.
“To think it’s come to this, a terrible legend I leave behind, the lone crippled locust hiding and laboring for a city who ultimately killed him.” He waited for the sound. And did not wait long. He heard the landing of two figures nearby and braced himself. “What’s say we at least make this something to talk about for a time.” Thrusting himself up onto his feet he held himself in a confident posture, one he actually felt.
He knew that the result of any action he took could only be his own demise and so it didn’t matter what he did at this point. The certainty of his fate seemed to oddly empower him. Proudly he clawed off the remins of his pigment and pheromones displaying the markings of a locust. Striking a savage pose for his attackers.
Opposite him stood a mosquito armed with four more stones to throw. He had the typical overinduldged proportions of a ‘civilised’ mosquito, fed from stores of food harvested in the subterrainian farms. This one looked young enough to have not ever fought anything and likely never had even hunted for it’s own food. He would be skittish and easily handled, which meant Attir could focus on the other figure before him. The Giant of a Dung Beetle carrying several stones in his lower arms ready to supply his partner with them. Dung beetles were horrible shots, with poor eyesight, their advantages in combat came from their strength and size.
Attir looked up and saw that five more figures wove a pattern around the platform, ready to drop rocks and stones down on him from their height should he prove too much for the two on the platform with him. But they kept their distance, obviously deferring the honor of defeating the savage locust to this youth and his companion.
So this boy was important, he rated first shot at the kill and that was valuble to Attir.
“Looks like I may not be in as much trouble as I thought.” He said with what he hoped came across as savage glee.
“You won’t find me a soft opponent Locust, and should I fail my task, my companions will make a quick end to you.” The fear made the boast seem almost laughable despite the numbers and their being armed .
“Lets test your resolve then boy.” Snapped Attir, charging for the dung beetle, counting on his poor sight to allow him to close the distance farther then he otherwise would have been able to. His long stride carried him at a rpid pace right tward the dung beetle that stood firmly planted with his upper arms extended to catch and crush his oncoming opponent, which never came anywhere near him.
Attir got within two long legged strides of the beetle before bending and snapping his legs out in a leap that sent him sailing over the beetle and the youth at his side. But instead of fleeing once he landed Attir whirled around and grabbed the startled mosquito with his left arms and clenched the whisper thin body in close to him backed up to the edge of the platform, holding his hostage tightly.
With a final taunting expression Attir allowed himself and the mosquito to drop out into the air. Where the youth struggled in panic to break free of the weight and get his wings out in the open, but to no avail. Thrashing about with his stones and trying to pound at Attir with them in desperate hope, that he might be let go.
Attir was deeply impressed that the boy did not scream in fear at the uncontrolled plumet he was trapped in.
“come on, come on.” Attirs own anxiety over the situation was growing, he’d made a big gamble and it seemed to be taking an eternity to find out if he had gambled rightly.
The Blow came from behind, and the impact was so great that Attir nearly let go of the mosquito in his arms. As it was three stones broke free and tumbled out into the city below from the jarring impact.
“it’s about time.” Attir said.
“Sorry, but I lost sight of him for a moment.” The beetle replied, thinking that his partner had been the one speaking.
Attir held tight to the small insect easily holding his limbs trapped against his body. Held like he was only so much baggage. With a twist he managed to turn himself around an grab the short antenea of the beetle in one of his right hands and jerk savagely.
Reflexively the beetle moved to relieve the sharp pain and their flight path altered. They were now aimed straight upward through the heart of the the flight of comrades above. The beetle continued his flight struggling to get a grasp on the locust and free his partner. But to no avail. The frantic struggle of the three insects caused their flight path to weave greatly making any chance at targeting one over the other even more impossible. None of the others in the flight dared aim a weapon at the trio and could do nothing but pursue and stay back form the erratic flight as it sped up and out of the city into the sunlit air.
Attir jerked hard on the antennae of the beetle turning him into a steep dive. The beetle struggled with his passengers and the pain trying to get his hand about something, anything, so he could regain control and not be at the mercy of this confusing and painful struggle. He failed to see the direction he was headed in and was completely caught off guard by what happened next.
Attir set then straight into a whirling tumble before letting go of the beetles antennae and the hostage all at once and springing free of them both at the last second before they impacted with the ground in a tangled heap. Attirs own leap was hampered by the momentum of the tumbled and erratic flight from the city, and his landing was hard and none to pleasant. It was only made worse by the impact of his hostages last stone, thrown in angry revenge in the instance he had been let go.
Just as he had landed folded his legs up to cushion his landing the stone struck just above the joint where his leg bent back. The hit had been glancing and had managed to avout completely ruining the leg but Attir could see that the leg had cracked and was not likely to support a long run if it supported him at all.
“Rot!” he cursed his foolishness at letting himself forget the last stone and turning his back on the youth. He would have to find a way to get to cover and fast, as he could hear the hum of the rest of the flight that had given chase to them.

Portal City
Victor sat in his car feeling a little more relaxed after the group gathering on this cool fall night. He was not one for group events especially when it came to spiritual things but it had been nice. It helped him connect with people and smooth out some of the frantic energy in his life of late.
It always seemed that things preferred to hang on the brink of collapse in his life. Always just that much closer to leaving him homeless, or his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere with no money left on his cell phone to call for help. His computer was dead and he had work to do if he was at all serious about finding a new job before his savings ran out.
“Why is it alwys in clusters, Dusk?” He asked his car, which was content to simple sit there being the color of a pastel sunset, rich orange gold with the rusty red spots making the illusion that much more real. “Never one thing at a time, so that I can manage it. Always one big pile, all at once.”
With a deep sigh he started the engine and began to back out of the parking lot. The stack of books in the back passenger seat shifted and fell over into the box of books next to it. The Cds and some odds and ends that seemed to form a jumbled mound in the seat next to Victor shifted a little and victor put out a hand like a protective parent to prevent the pile from spreading out all over the interior of the car as the vehichle made the turn out of the parking lot.
“I’ve really got to do something about this.” He looked at the clutter of projects and trinkets around him.
The night roads were empty and peaceful and that is how he preferred it, because this evenings event aside he preferred solitude. Too many people around drove him crazy, it was sensory overload. He lived his life at night and was thankful that he seemed to be naturally inclined to that sort of thing. It meant he didn’t have to deal with the large crowds or the urgently pushy people rushing about. Waiting in line, watching in all directions for that driver who was in too much of a hurry or too important to drive responsibly. No, he’d rather sit in his room with a good book or tinker with another project and then go to the all night grocery store when food ran out, preferably at two in the morning when he could count on there being only two other customers in the store.
He pulledinto and made a quick stop at the post office to check his box before heading back to the apartment. It was subsitance living here in this tiny building with five others, sharing the kitchen and bathroom. But again it worked well form him due to his hours. He rarely had to compete for anything with the day timers, but it did mean that the kid directly above him who liked to blast his rap music was at his noisiest about the time Victor sought to sleep. It’d taken some time but eventually he’d gotten used to a certain degree of noise, especially the droning repetitive beat that vibrated the radiator and ceiling light and that he could feel in his chest.
As he pulled into the parking space and settled back for a moment in his car to collect his thoughts and just be there and then, he noticed the thick fog settling into the night air. It was sort of aweing to watch as the fog seemed to sneak in to the edges of the world and fluff up like cotton. Grand Pa Donovan had always called these types of days soft days. Vic always liked the term, because it so suited how the world became soft and fuzzy through the haze of fog. It really was a spectacular night out. With the coolness settled into the ground and the warm fog in the air that grew to a thickness that covered everything but the bright glowing moon above and the light at the entrance to the house.
But then Victor saw something confusing. I looked like another light off in the direction of the trees, where no other light should be. If he didn’t know better he wouldhave said it was a motorcycle headlamp… only it was in the woods were there was no road and about two hundred feet off the ground.
The light seemed to continue for a minute as if it were headed right towards him before it just as sudeenly disappeared. All the while he had been straining to hear any sound that would tell him if it was a helicopter or a low fliying aircraft of some sort but he had heard nothing. Puzzled he finally got out of his car reaching in to grab his ever present book bag and slip it over his trench coated shoulder.
There was nothing to see outside the car, no light shown through the expanse of white except the moon and the interior dome light of his car showing through the windows. In fact the light at the front door was gone too. Reaching into the front of his coat he found the chain on the front of his denim vest and pulled until the sturdy chain came away trailing a pocket watch.
“It’s only ten thirty, they know that I’m still out and about at this time. Why would they shut it off now.” He was confused as he looked at the face of the watch with it’s glowing hands and numbers.
And then the dome light from the car faded out leving him in the fog with only a haze of white light above from the moon.
“This should be fun trying to find the bloody dorr in this and then trying to get the key to the lock.’ He grumbled.
His steps were faltering and very slow, trying his best not to turn an ankle on the stone walkway that the owner refuse to maintain. He’d only taken a few step when he was forced to stop so that he could better see the light that had returned. It was not the car and certainly too high up to be the front door but too small and low to be the moon.
“What are you?” He asked the light. And to his utter amazement it responded to his question.
By charging straight at him.
Reflexively he dove to the ground and found the stone walkway to be most uncomfortable to dive upon. He lay there on the ground feeling the crack between the stones on his face, one of which ran from his chin to his left cheek in a straight line before taking a right angle and traveling into another straight line. Infact all the lines felt like straight lines, rather then the rounded irregulars with grass between them that he expected from the poorly maintained cobbles.
“Please don’t tell me I parked in the wrong driveway.” He said to himself, though he well knew that his neighbors all had either asphalt or dirt driveways and walkways. The walkway he was on felt distinctly like bricking. Or maybe it was tile. Not that it made much difference. Both were impossible, but he strained his eyes to try and see what he way laying upon. But the moonlight above him was a pale sickly yellow and had taken to flickering weakly in the fog.
“How does moonlight flicker, just what is going on here?” He was confused, and none to happy about all these games or tricks being played either by his house mates or by the universe in general.
He climbed to his feet and noticed as he did that the moonlight got closer and clearer, in fact it was clear now that the flickering yellow light he was observing was more likely some sort of lamp post. Using it as a becon to guide his direction he moved toward the light and had brief musings about the ways that his actions could be portrayed as a near death experience or less dramatically but similarly humorous to him was the image of himself a s a moth bouncing his head off the light that he was drawn to.
When at last he had gotten as close as he could to the lamp post he looked up the few feet above his head and was astounded. It was old, and unless he was mistaken and his eyes were playing tricks on him that was an alchohol lamp set within the glass enclosure on top of a cast iron post.
“Something is very wrong here.”
“Oy!” a voice came from far to his right.
“is someone there?” Victory asked the darkness.
“Shush, you fool. Do you want to get us both killed?” the voice said closer and more clearly, there were the sounds of quiet foot falls approaching him.
Victory had the brief impulse to flee down the street like mad. He was lost and out of the fog was coming somebody talking of death. It was no something he wanted any part of. But He didn’t know where he was and what was happening let alone where he could possible run to. For all he knew he was at the edge of a precipus and running around without being able to see would mean a shorter life then he wished to have remaining to him.
“Who are you?” He asked trying to sound demanding and not like the lost child he felt like.
“What do you… bugger. Who are you? What are you doing here?” The voice sounded suddenly suspicious.
“I don’t even know where here is. What is going on and who are you?” Giving up any concern at all about how he sounded Vic wanted answers and this person was the first one he’d had the chance to ask.
“Oh bloody… tell me who is on the council?” The voice quizzed as the steps resumed heading towards Victor.
“What council? Who are you and what is going on?” Victor was not happy with the way this was going, the person coming towardshim seemed to have some idea of what was going on and was not supplying any answers.
“That’s about what I expected you to say.” The voice was very close, infact he was so close that victor thought he might be able to see the form coming out of the fog, he was certain he cold see light reflecting off of some sort of glasses on his face through the fog. “I don’t exactly have time to explain it to you all now but the short of it sir is that you are in portal city. Welcome. Now hurry up and come along we have to get moving and I’ve wasted time talking to you.”
“Not much, I’m still completely in the dark.”
“Not for much longer, I’ve got to find the person I’m looking for and soon before the steam dissipates.” The man was right before Victor and his face was well wethered and had a rough stubble about the jaw. His glasses where a pir of specially tinted goggles that seems to allowed him to walk with ease through the blinding fog. He adjusted his outdated bowler style hat before reaching forward and grasping Vic by the upper arm to lead him down through the fog to some other location.
“Hold on just a minute,” Vic nearly yelled. “You can’t just expect me to wonder off to nowehere in this fog with no more information then that. And… wait what did you say about this being steam?” He was caught up by the statement and stopped resisting the mans pull.
“Yes steam. It builds up in the system below ground over several hours and has to be let out regularly. They schedual it by district so that not any one part of the city is covered at the same time as another.”
“This is all some part of a city?” Vic was trying his best to understand what was going on to recover and Keep up with the new information. He prided himself on being creative and at least some what intelligent, but he struggled with changing events that didn’t give him all the information and time to sort it out. “Why do they even flood the street s with it at all?” he asked, sure that is was an intelligent question.
The man hauling him through the street came to an abrupt stop. “Why, what do you mean why? Do you have any idea what could happen if they didn’t let the pressure out. By the Lady. What a mad idea that is.” He resumed hauling the deflated and still more confused Victor through the fog.
It was then that Victor began to notice the fog was thinning. He could look around and more easily make out the shapes of tall buildings all round him. Most of which were looking like old brown stone structures similar tyle buildings. Many seemed to have Victorian aspects and mixed in with those were a few with art nouevo or even art dec sculpting on them. It was truly strange and confusing. What had happened to him between the front door of the house and his car. What was going one.
“Blast, we have to hurry I we are going to meet my contact before the steam is gone for good.” He sped his pace along the brick walkways dragging Victor behind him. “Hurry lad, if we miss this chance then the society could very well be in the dark about …” The man clapped his mouth shut quickly.
“What society and what would they be in the dark about?” It was some information anyway and he needed to feel he knew something that was going on around here in this crazy place.
“Just never you mind about that right now, you don’t need to know this and don’t you go snooping where you’re not welcome when I do meet up with my contact. Just sit quietly and I’ll do my best to get you settled in and help you learn about your new home.”
At this Victor ground his heels into the brick.
“Whoa, whoa whoa. What are you talking about new home. I’m lost but I’m not getting lost in this city for good. You’re going to help me get back to where I belong.”
“Lad, it doesn’t matter one whit what you want this is where you are and that all there is to it. Fight it all you want, move outside the city walls do what you like but this is where you are, where we all are. It ain’t so bad that you can’t get by. Just some thing need a bit of changing and you can have a part in that too. But that’s for you to realize in your own time, right now you either get your feet moving or you get left out here on your own. I havn’t any more time to waste talking to you. The fog is almost gone and I have an appointment to keep, at blast where is it.” He was scanning the thinly fog vield streets reading the signs. “The light on Charlse street near the market. They must have been talking about the produce market. Keep up lad or stay out of the way.” And he started off running.
The fog was thin enough now that Victor could see where he was going and keep an eye toward folloing the stranger he had become entangled with. They pounded down the street and seemed to travel for some time in the brisk run, watching as the steam in the streets thinned and dwindled to wisps that clung to dampened streets signs and building exteriors. The last wisps of it filled stairwells and sthe still, dark corners all around. Victor was caught completely off guard when the last traces had lifted from the night sky and he could look up into a vast brightness. But this brightness was not of stars, they might well have been there but they were obscured by the wrippleling waves of color dancing lightly across the sky like waterfalls broken free of land and flapping in the wind , banners of every color imaginable.
He wanted to stop but feared the loss of the only person he had seen so far.
He forced his attention to catching back up to the man who had gotten further head while he had been stunned by the night sky.
The man was just a few yards ahead of him when they rounded the corner of the street and saw the closed produce market. But they were not alone.
“There they are, seditionist. Don’t let them get away.” Yelled a man in rich clothing, as if he were dressed to meet a queen or dignatary in some formal costume that was required by protoclos.
“Run lad, it looks like we’ve found the place too late.”
“Run? Run? That’s all you can say. I don’t even know what’s going on. What have you involved me with.”
“If you really think this is the time to sit down and talk about it you’ll have to try it with them. I’m not such a fool.” The Man broke and ran down a nearby alley doing his best to get away from the uniformed man and those with him.
Victor took one look at those coming toward him and decided that it was best to worry about why he had to escape after he had escaped. He broke into a run after the older man. Surprised at how fit this man with the greying stubble and white hair was.
They exited the alley on the other side and turned down the street running with all speed that they could bring to bear. Victor had no idea where he was running to or what they were running from but he knew that the only connection he had in this strange world was just steps ahead of him and he had to keep that connection or he would be well and truly lost in this place that was not his own.
A loud pop sounde from behind them and nearby a hitching post on the edge of the street made a loud snapping noise.
“What just happened? Tell me we aren’yt being shot at?”
“Alright I won’t tell ya, but I do suggest we duchk down another side street and start running a little less in straight lines.”
“Damn, they are shooting at us aren’t they.”
“Well technically only one of them can own a gun so it’s a him that’s douin the shootin and even he isn’t doing it right now. Looks like he’s not so high up as to have something that doesn’t need a reload after a single shot.”
“Iis that supposed to be the bright side?”
The man looked back at him with a lopsided smile and kept running, turning down a side steet and weaving around hitchings and light posts.
“Please don’t let me have falllen in with a mad man or murderer. I think I could maybe deal with a petty theif but please…” Victory looked up at the colorful night sky in desperation.
“Lad, while you’re praying to whatever diety you have from back home maybe you could throw in a good word for myself and maybe request a little intervention. Idon’t know as your devinity would suit me much but it doesn’t hurt to ask a bit of help in these types of situations.”
“I’m not really praying, I don’t know as I have a strong belief in anything that responds to prayers.” Victor said in all seriousness because he was suddenly relising that he was this close to being shot iin the back and he didn’t know wether he had anything faith to hold him up or any place he might go to what the bullet struck.
“Then I’ll put in a good word for ya with the Lady.”
“What Lady?”
“She’s sort of the patroness of all the souls in this city, she’s the lady of the mechanism. I’ll wager she had a hand in our meeting tonight.” He smiled back at him.
“I can’t help feeling that that is not something to recommend her.”
“Careful lad.”
Wether he said it about what victor was saying or as a warning was unclear as another shot impacted inches away from victor into the brick side of a building they were turning the corner of.
“we don’t seem to be loosing them, what are we going to do?”
“I suggest we keep running, and cross over the line, they may be bold but I don’t think they’re bold enough to risk a territorial conflict to catch a few unknowns like us.”
“What do you mean? You know I’m getting really tired of asking that question. I would like to know what is going on and … wel just what the hell is going on?”
“Save your breath for running, all you need to know is that we are in that mans part of the city and as long as we are, he can do as he pleases to us. But if we head seven blocks over to the starboard side of the city we will be in Little italy and while they could do whatever they wanted to us over there the fellow behind us cannot do anything over there without the permission of the coucil memebr in charge of that territory.”
“This council memebr stuff is how the city is run?” Victor was desperate to get some understanding of what was going one and despite the warnings about saving his breath he had to know what he was dealing with.
“Pretty much.” They zigged and zagged around a street sign and crossed a stret that remained empty of all other people. Victor wondered if it was due to the night time or the street chase with gun fire.
Again there was a loud pop behind them and a nearby impact. Thankfully their persuer was either a horrible shot or the one shot pistol was inaccurate and difficult to fire while running.
Victor concentrated on running for a while and kept quiet, for which his companion seemed to be greatful, the man may have been fit but he was not nearly the youth that victor was and the effort was beginning to show. The distance between the two began to close and finall y when he seemed to be about to pass him by victor reached out and tried to help haul him along with him. Much as the man ahd done to him upon their meetin in the fog.
Again a pop sounded behind them but it seemed to have gone truly off course because victor could not tell where it had landed as they rounded another corner.
The older man stumbled agaist the wall and stopped. Victor loked up and around the corner to see their persuers some ways behind, having had to sto to fire at regular intervals.
“Come on, you said it was just seven blocks, it can’t be far now.” Victor tried not to sound like he was begging and more like he was reassuring the man.
“You’re not lad, it’s just one block over that way and across the bridge. Hurry.”
“Come on then.”
“I said you’re not far. I might as well be on the other side of the city.”
“What are you talking about?’ Vic looked around the corner and noted that the persuers seemed to sense that something was up and were coming forward more causciously and more slowly.
“That last shot didn’t go wild lad. I’ll not be doing any more running for a good while.” He had been hunched over breathing heavy from what Victor assumed was the running but as the man stood straighter he saw a dark stain on the side of the older mans pant leg.
“Dammit, now what do we do?”
“You get running and over that bridge.”
“What good does that do me. I’d be just as lost over there as here. And you still owe me those answers.”
“Lad you’re a stuborn fool and if either of us live much longer I’ll teach you an important lesson about listening to your elders.” But the man had a wane smile for his companion.
“I’ve got one more question for right now.”
“Another one huh?” The Man rolled his eyes.
“I figure if I’m going to stand by somebody who is looking down the baril of a council mans gun I should probably know his name.” Victor replied.
“Well that seems fair Lad, the Names Connery, Albert Connery. Bu Nobody calls me that. Just call me Spanner.”
“Nice to meet you Mister connery, I’m Victor Donovan. And unfortunately the best I can offer you is Vic for short.”