"Mr. Chilton." A voice breaks over the dark of the room as light shines in. He looks up from the floor, where he's been tracing in the dirt, to see a girl his age holding a plate of food, her KaneCo uniform pristine.

"So he's decided to feed me." Mike says, because although he doesn't know how long he's been here, it's been two days, at least.

The girl doesn't smile, just opens the small crack at the bottom of the door and slides the plate in. "Enjoy." She says, and it isn't sarcastic, but it also isn't kind.

"I will." He tries, but she just turns around and starts to make her way out.

She's almost to the door when he says it, expecting the hard truth or no answer at all from this stranger, the five words that have been nagging him since he was thrown in the cell.

"Why hasn't Kane killed me." It's not a question, but it isn't a statement either.

"He- he wouldn't-" the girl stutters, standing up for her boss, her leader – and then she looks at his face, and he doesn't know what she sees there, but her composure slips, just for a second, and doubt crosses her face.

Her last words, just a whisper, ring throughout the cell even after she leaves.

"I don't know."

. . . . . . . . .

The girl isn't back for five more meals.

The people who give him the food change, and just slide the plate in his room without acknowledging him.

And then she's back.

This time she just slides the food through the crack in the door, and like the others, turns to leave.

"Not even going to tell me your name?" Mike chuckles at the door slides closed.

. . . . . . . . .

She's back again the next day.

She does the same thing as the day before, slipping the food through the door and ignoring him.

But as she leaves, she turns around and whispers one word.

"Julie."

. . . . . . . . .

"So, your names Julie?" he greets her two meals later.

"And yours is Mike." She answers, not looking at him, but not leaving either.

"What about a last name? You know mine." He tries, but her face hardens, and she says no forcefully.

"So not into sharing." He nods, "Understandable."

And then her face grows angry, and she practically screams at him. "How can you be so calm!" she shrieks, "How can you be so calm when you're trapped in this cage."

And then he grows angry, because this girl knows nothing about him if she thinks that his being caught is the worst thing on his mind. "Really?" he laughs cruelly, "Your boss, Kane," he spits out the word, "Killed dozens of people, and I couldn't stop him.

"I let them all die." He finishes with a whisper.

The girl stands there for a minute, before looking him in the eyes for the first time ever. "At least you tried to stop him."

And before he can ask her what she means, she was gone.

. . . . . . . . .

Going by the guess that he's getting one meal a day, Mike hasn't seen Julie in two weeks.

. . . . . . . . .

The door opens, and he looks up, like he's done every day, hoping that it's Julie.

And this time, it is.

She smiles at him, but doesn't say anything as she slips the plate through the crack.

"What did you mean, last time?" he asks, as she crouches by the bars.

"I meant – I meant that what Kane is doing isn't right." She whispers, like this is the first time she's admitting it to anyone – even herself.

"Congratulations." He says sarcastically, "You've finally found it out."

"It's not like you found it out to soon either!" she snaps, "You were my – my leaders favorite cadet before you went and disobeyed him."

"Your leader? Really. I thought what he was doing 'wasn't right'."

"It isn't!" she screams, "It isn't at all."

And with that she leaves.

. . . . . . . . .

She's back the next day with the food.

"I threw in some extra food." She tells him.

And then she leaves.

. . . . . . . . .

"So, Jules, I noticed the others are out of the rotation." He tells her after her fifth time she brings his meal in a row.

"Yep." She answers, lingering by the cell bars for a few seconds before leaving.

He can hear mutter 'Jules' under her voice as she leaves.

He can't tell if she's happy or mad.

. . . . . . . . .

When she comes the next day, she doesn't give him his food, but sits down in front of him.

And sits there.

Silently.

And then she looks at him and says, "Tell me about it."

His eyebrows knit in confusion. "About what?"

"Motorcity." She breathes the word like it's some tantalizing, amazing thing, like it's a sin to just say the name, but she's loving it.

He smiles, because he knows the city below them merits no such response, at least not to the eyes of a Deluxian.

But at the same time he understands what she's feeling.

And so he begins to describe to her the desolate beauty he viewed down in Motorcity, his food left forgotten on the floor.

. . . . . . . . .

And he continues to tell her.

Each day, he tell her more and more.

And when he's finished they begin their discussions.

. . . . . . . . .

"Deluxe is safer."

"But Motorcity has a wild sort of beauty."

Or

"What would it be like, to be free down there?"

"I wouldn't know."

Or

"Do you think my…do you think Kane started off with a – a goodness in mind?"

"I hope so. It would make the man more human."

. . . . . . . . .

Julie brings news of a Deluxe boy named Dutch who has been missing with his next plate of food.

"Do you think he's down there?" she asks, her eyes sparkling at the thought.

Mike smiles, and says that he hopes so.

"I want to do it." She says suddenly. "I want to go to Motorcity." And just like that, his whole world stops.

If she left, he would have no one to talk to.

If she left, he would be alone.

But he forces a smile. "Good for you, Jules." She's practically bouncing in her seat. "You can come to!" She says happily, caught in the excitement of her sudden epiphany, "We can have a new life, free of Kane."

But he just shakes his head. "It's not that easy, Jules. For one, I've seen down there. There is no free of Kane. You still have to fight. Plus, there's the small fact that I'm in a cell in the middle of KaneCo."

She's still smiling, which throws him off guard.

"Firstly, I wouldn't care. I'd be happy to fight if it meant freedom." She tells him, and he sees her in a new light. Not a naïve Deluxian. But a fighter. Someone who belongs in Motorcity. "And secondly, I happen to be a very influential intern here at KaneCo who knows all the good ways to sneak out."

His thoughts storm around his head, but seeing her smile, and her eyes that know they can do what she's said, his thoughts clear.

And they plan.

. . . . . . . . .

For four straight days they plan.

And plan.

And plan.

And then one day, she doesn't come.

. . . . . . . . .

With Julie's sudden disappearance, his life is bland.

He can't be sure, but his meals seem to be coming less and less.

He can't go by the certainty that he gets a meal a day anymore.

It isn't nineteen days that Julie's been absent. It's been nineteen meals.

And he can't be sure how many days that actually is.

. . . . . . . . .

The meal bearers goes back to the rotation, and every time the person bringing the food isn't Julie, he sinks lower and lower into the truth.

. . . . . . . . .

He gives up on her ever coming back.

She went to Motorcity without him. Or decided he was wrong, Kane was right, and had given up the freedom she had yearned.

And with his food coming less and less, he gives up on surviving. Without her, he wouldn't make it out of his cell. He needed key cards, all things she had access to.

And without food, he just plain old won't make it.

. . . . . . . . .

He gives up counting the amount of meals he's eaten. It hasn't been a lot.

He doesn't look up when the food is brought to him anymore.

He waits until the KaneCo person is out of the room to eat the food.

. . . . . . . . .

One day he can't take it anymore.

When a man brings in his next meal, he's ready.

"Where is she?" he fires off, ignoring the food lying next to him.

"Who." The man grunts, and Mike knows by his voice that the man is much older than him.

"The girl that brought me my food the most." He says, not willing to let on that he knew nothing more than her face.

"Ah, yes. Her." The man's face grows cold, cruel. "Tell, Mike Chilton, do you even know who she is?" There's something about the way he says it that makes Mike feel like he has something he needs to defend.

"Yes. She's Julie." Mike says, abandoning yet another thing, his resolve.

"So Ms. Kane told you, then?" the man's cruel smile grows even colder as Mike starts at the name…and the feminine prefix.

"Kane? No. Kane is…" he says, thinking the man must be playing with him.

But the man's face grows even crueler with each word. "Her father."

And Mike can tell it's the truth.

. . . . . . . . .

He passes in and out of unconsciousness. The food is coming hardly ever know.

. . . . . . . . .

One day when he wakes up, there is a plate full of twice the amount of food he's been getting in front of him.

He eats it slowly.

. . . . . . . . .

The meals are back to the way they were when he first came to the cell, or close enough that he can't be sure.

And there's twice as much as the largest meal that he's gotten in all the time he's been down here.

He's no longer loosing unconsciousness, and can feel the strength returning to his body.

. . . . . . . . .

She still hasn't come.

He tells himself he doesn't want her to.

. . . . . . . . .

He's beginning to get worried.

Kane is feeding him decent meals. Enough to keep him going.

He thought he was going to starve to death down here – that that was Kane's plan.

But Kane must have changed him mind.

And that's what worries him.

. . . . . . . . .

He's pent up, like a wild animal kept in a cage.

He's never been good with waiting, being still.

He's restless.

He's seriously thinking about taking out the next person who brings him his food and running like hell, with no plan in mind, just to run.

He doesn't even care that he might die.

. . . . . . . . .

He's pretty sure he's gone crazy.

. . . . . . . . .

He dreams about her.

She's sitting there, talking to him, just like all those times. She laughing at something – he doesn't know what – and then suddenly she begins to change.

She a monster.

She's a monster with the face of her father.

. . . . . . . . .

And he dreams about her again.

. . . . . . . . .

And the next night.

. . . . . . . . .

Nine nights of dreaming about her.

. . . . . . . . .

His dream this night is a great relief from the usual, with Julie as a monster.

She's still there.

But she's not a monster.

They're in Motorcity, along with three other people. He calls one Dutch.

There's a tall kid who he seems to be close friends with.

And a strange kid named after one of the old States.

And all five of them are happy.

And free.

. . . . . . . . .

The door opens, and knowing it's just his next meal, he doesn't even bother to look up.

Until he hears his name, whispered with a voice he hasn't heard for what seems like forever.

"Mike."

And then he's on his feet at the bars in an instant, his heart jumping with joy – until he remembers.

He smiles at her, but it isn't the same friendly smile that he had so many times before. In fact, his smile feels like it would look about the same as the man that had told him Julie's secret had.

"Julie Kane." He says, greeting her.

She flinches at the last name, then nods as she slides his food through the little door at the bottom of the cell. "Yes."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He tells her, and she looks up, a bit of hope on her face. It almost makes him feel bad for what he says next.

Almost.

"In fact, I was hoping I wouldn't." Her face falls, but she doesn't look surprised, just disappointed.

"I'm not sorry I didn't tell you." She says.

"You should be." He spits, his anger over-coming him for a moment. He takes a deep breath, calming himself – slightly. "Why didn't you."

"Because you wouldn't have talked to me."

"True." He nods, then gestures for her to continue.

"Because you're the only person who understands what I do. That Kane – that my father is an absolute monster. And I knew if I told you you wouldn't have even acknowledged me. I was planning on telling you – eventually."

"And the what?" he growls. "You see the light? Find out your precious father was right? Decide to turn your back on me for god damn knows how long?"

"No." she whispers. And then she stands up, and looks him in the eye. "I left because my 'precious father' didn't want me to be near you. He forcefully stopped me from doing the job he assigned me in the first place. Thought you were a bad influence." She chuckles, but it sounds more like a sob. "And he was right about that, at least, wasn't he?"

"Then why are you back down here." He demands, because dammit, he knows what's coming but he wants to hear it from her lips.

"Because he's going to kill you. Publicly." The last word slips out of her mouth like a snake. "And I thought you should know."

Mike nods. "That's why he's been feeding me, hasn't it? So I don't look like a martyr. Poor starved little traitor." He laughs, and sad, hollow laugh.

She nods.

"Get out of here, Kane." He tells her.

"Three day, Mike. Enjoy the food."

And then she slips out.

. . . . . . . . .

There's a key card in his meal.

He breaks it in half.

. . . . . . . . .

She doesn't come back.

He doesn't forgive her.

. . . . . . . . .

And he doesn't eat the food.

It's a feeble protest.

. . . . . . . . .

A day passes.

. . . . . . . . .

And then another.

. . . . . . . . .

And then there are guards at his door. They go to shove him up, but he complies easily.

He knows what's coming.

They put him in a pair of hand cuffs and lead him up, up, up, forever up. Because that's what Deluxe is.

He doesn't even bother to fight.

. . . . . . . . .

It's a beautiful day.

Just like every day in Detroit Deluxe.

There's a small crowd around the podium. Just the guards and a handful of Deluxians.

The stage is five feet off the ground.

He's been wondering how they were going to kill him. Now he knows.

No painful beheadings. No KaneBots.

Just a chair and a needle.

They were going to put him to sleep.

Kill him the same way you would kill a dog.

. . . . . . . . .

They don't strap him into the chair just yet. He figures Kane still has to make his speech.

Sure enough, Abraham Kane begins his ascent up the stairs.

"Mike, Mike, Mike. You could have had it all." Kane says lowly, so it's just between the two of them – and, of course, the guards restraining him.

"Was it worth it, really? You saved a few measly lives, and now you are going to lose yours." Kane smiles at the thought.

"It's always worth it." Mike says, the last of his will going into that one sentence.

"Fighting to the end, eh, Mikey?" Kane says, and it sparks a memory – Mikey is what the tall kid in his dream called him.

And then Mike laughs, slowly. Because Kane obviously doesn't know him as well as he thought, or else he'd know that if Mike was fighting, there would be a whole hell of a lot more of a struggle.

"Let this be an example, Deluxians," Kane tells the few civilians in the crowd, "Of what happens when you disobey me. I have given you the perfect life. Why is there need to commit treachery?"

Mike drowns him out.

And then Mike sees her.

Standing in the back of the crowd is Julie Kane. She meets his eyes, and flashes something – a KaneCo key card. Just like the one that had been used to put on his hand cuffs.

And in one stare, they have a plan. In one stare, he knows she did mean what she said – all of it.

In one stare, he forgives her.

. . . . . . . . .

She begins to slip through the crowd.

When she reaches the base of the stage, she gives him a curt nod.

He leaps from the guards grasp, catching them off guard – he hadn't fought back before, why would he now – and pushes past Kane, right of the stage, and lands next to Julie.

In one swift motion, she has him out of the cuffs.

And they begin to run, fighting their way through the guards.

Fighting their way towards freedom.