This story is early alpha and subject to change. I'm looking for proof readers. Message, me to apply
Aethelwulf stares out at the bleak field just outside of New Somburg. The massive hive city stretches into the distance before suddenly dropping off revealing the outer city of Hurrfurt. It was no better than Somburg, filthy from the industrial machine that never stops turning; belching out smoke and soot. Every time the winds shifted Somburg pollution rolls over in thick waves.
He was waiting for his contact to appear holding the contraband. The white sphere with glittering jewel was clearly Eldar in nature. It was illegal to have alien technology in your possession, something he thought was stupid. In a world where a loaf of bread cost 150 credits and you made 8 credits a day, you needed every advantage. Alien technology could save billions and restart the stagnated imperium. Instead it's outlawed and techpriest cling to their fabled STCs.
Almost to prove his point his communicator beeped. She is early. The thought of talking to his beloved made his heart stir. "Hey hun," he says with his face changing to a much happier expression despite situation.
"Has the contact arrived," she asks in sweet tone?
"No foreplay," he jests?
There is a barely audible chuckle, and he looks back at the drab city behind him. It was barely better than his lower city.
She replies, "You're such a tease. Sorry, no time Hun. Maybe when you get home." She lets out a squeal that sounds more like a falsetto, more animate and rhythmic.
"I'm sure he'll be here soon." He says bent over with his right foot resting on the outer balcony.
"I hope so; it was hard securing it from my sisters. I hope you'll be home soon. Love you."
He smiles even though she couldn't see it. "Love you too, I'll be home soon. Bye." He gives a pauses before hanging up in case she wants to say something else.
A crunch on gravel refocused his attention on the shady person in front of him. This wasn't his first drop off but he was still nervous. Despite how hot the day was, it wasn't heat causing the sweat to run down his legs. "Your late," he says to him.
"Sorry," the man says in unreadable tone "authority is tight."
He steps forward with the Eldar artifact in his out stretched hands. "Here is the Eldar artifact."
"Thank you," the man says taking the artifact and handing him the 1010 credit payment. The man steps uncomfortably close as to stuff an extra 150 credits in his pocket. Then without another word, but a curt nod of his head, stalks into the shadows.
He gives a huff, "not much of a talker are you?" The stress of the situation causes him lights up a cigarette. After taking a slow drag, he starts heading home. The shakes didn't leave him that day.
Halfway home he notices the local PDF following him in secret. Well best as heavily armored and armed men can do. He pretends that he didn't notice them, browsing store fronts and stopping to smoke. If they wanted him, he would have already been captured. They were tailing him. Except he kind of knew about this area. They wouldn't follow him past the lowercity enterance, he just had to escape. He jerkingly turned a corner and burst into a run. After rounding another corner, he ended up right where he wanted to be, an endless maze of backallys. It goes exactly as he had planned. Weaving left and right in the maze following a route only he knew and no one else.
Eventually he found the exist out of the backalleys, but PDF guards were stationed outside of it. The soldiers weren't paid enough to chase down smugglers and were looking up and down the street disinterested. He didn't have to put up a fight to get past them. He simply walked past them and blended in with the crowd.
He thought for sure he lost them, managing to reach descending lower road connecting midcity with the lowercity. On both sides were massive concrete and steel warehouses surrounded by chain links fences. The loading yards was a maze of shipping containers. A hundred feet back a lone guard spotted him. Before he was even aware, the PDF had him in the sky and on the ground. They were trying to follow him, why not try to arrest him. He didn't get it.
Hopping over the gate, he zigzagged past the many rows of shipping containers and loading vehicles. Before climbing over a second fence and running down the street towards the lowercity. Once he reaches the side routes on either side of two main highways, he pauses to see if the guards would pursue him. They had formed up at the entrance next to a large green directional sign. One of them, supposedly their leader, wearing the sigil of Ramthas was on a vox unit. He says something and the troopers halt. That was that. Were they just chasing him out of midcity? He never did find out.
She hadn't heard back from him in a while and was starting to worry. He should have been home by now, but he had been late before. She gets off of the dirty mess of burgandy colored patchwork fabric that counts as a couch to get a drink. The apartment is small, like most in Somburg, living space is at a premium. The carpet is synthetic plastic material that use to be a light-grayish brown but is stained a much darker color from the dirt tracked across it's surface.
The walls are covered in peeling wallpaper stained yellow from the pollution in the air, the newly installed air filters could barely keep up with the demand. She tries her best to make this her home. Besides Aethelwulf, this wasn't her home. It was a temporary sanctuary nothing more. The holy aura kept the ever hungry slaanesh at bay and the legion of inquisitor kept cultists away. It made the city safe.
She moves to the kitchen. Opening the built in refrigerator, hearing it humming long before she saw it. Somedays she felt the humming in her bones like a ghost haunting her. She opens it up and took out a strange imported juice. Fruits had a hard time growing on this world and this was closest equivalency.
When the door flew open, it had startled her. She turns around to see a sweaty Aethelwulf breathing in ragged pants. She takes a sigh of relief on not seeing the artifact, but she knew something is wrong. "What happened," she asks with concern?
"Ran into my old friend the PDF. This third time in the last two weeks. They had me dead to rights." He pauses knowing she had a hard time grasping human's idioms. "They had several opportunities to make an arrest, but they never did. I can't tell if there trying to chase me away or trying to follow me."
"Damn," she says. "We might need to lay low for a while." He nods in agreement before stumbling to the couch ten feet away which squeaks in protest against his weight.
She moves into the kitchen, but he didn't follow her. Instead turning on the local holovox. A live broadcast is playing of Xur Ramthas talking to a selectively gathered crowed.
"My run for election will change everything. The wicked will punish everyone. Crime in the midupper will be brought to a halt. We are entering a new age."
He laughed at the way the crowd robotically applauses the speech. These people were obviously preselected because of their loyalty and support. Xur message was a joke too. My ass, he thought. And I'll end pollution and make it rain candy from the sky. Your just another dumb politician getting into power through lies.
His wife turns his thoughts from holovox. She was bringing with her a dish full of food, it made him notice how hungry he was. He tore into the food and she giggles, even her laughs were like music. There is a brief moment where he is lost in her crystal blue eyes. When he finally broke their gaze, he watches her vault with grace and swiftness up and over the couch landing besides him.
"Show off," he says snickering. He says drawing her in close and holding her tight. Her breathes become purrs as she is drawn in close. Their arms envelope each other. He caresses her cheek and she cranks her head making it easier for him. Her entire face becomes flush and he can feel the blood pulsing under her skin. Her temperature always spikes a few degrees when she was turned on. You could pick it up on a thermal reader, he should know, he had tried it. The curiosities of her species, the possibilities of the future. Maybe in another universe where things turned out differently, humanity knew the answers. Now the only lingering faint echoes of truth were in that room between two star struck lovers.
The next day a massive storm caused by the industrial devastation to the planet rocked the hive city. You could hear the storms even from the bottom of the hive city. The noise drug him out of his sleep and out of bed with a yawn. His beloved whimpered but did not stir.
He reaches for his jeans and T-shirt, neither of which had been or would be washed in months, and went out of his room into the L shaped corridor, through the living room into the kitchen. Taking what passed as coffee, he put the ground up herbs into the tray. With a flip of a switch the machine comes to life and he existed the kitchen for the bathroom. In the bathroom he finds the toothpaste is nearly empty. He sighs to himself. It was 850 credits and it went so fast.
Once he brushes his teeth, he waits for the taste to subside by turning on the antique music player next to the mural painted in the living room. The antique comes to life with a chugging scratching sound, like cats escaping out of a metal box. The music of choice: classic music from Abaenu, his home world. It's overt depressing tone were overlaid with happy tones from before the fall of man. It would swell with sad tones before climaxing with happy tones. As music filled his ears, he stared blankly at the mural of a tree in front of a massive ocean, the two kept from meeting by a vast strech of sandy beaches. He forces himself to stare at it. It was something he did every day. Until he traced every line of the mural, until he could see it when he closes his eyes. The seconds pass by as the need for coffee reaches fevered pitches. Overwhelmed, he gets up to pour a cup of coffee and sits back down. Once again imagining he was there. The waves crashing against him. The smell of salt in the air. No matter how far away, reality came crashing back demanding his attention. It was time to get his day started.
Despite setting off from his apartment briskly and full of vigor, he didn't make it ten feet. A shadow loomed outside waiting for him. "Hey bud," a familiar voice said.
"Byre," he exclaimed. "What in the Emperor's name are you doing here?"
"Saving your butt," he says. "You dug too deep for a too shinny of a prize. The grand magistrate can see the glitter of gold from space."
"When are we going to stop living on our knees and hiding in the shadows? If we can't rediscover are own technology, why can't we rediscover alien technology?"
"You know these superstitious fools will never allow it. They would have us blessing toasters. Closer to the earth, more superstitious they become." His friend was right. He takes a seat by leaning against a nearby brick wall.
"So you know who ratted us out?" His friend scratches his head and then shakes it.
"No clue. How about the foremen at the dig?"
He thought about this. "Phill? Not a chance. He is too afraid of the authorities to go to them. Got to be Dan."
"That snake," his friend says with distain "He doesn't have enough of a spine to sell us out."
He nods in agreement, but is secretly betting it was Dan. He was a mover of things, gets them from place to place with no qestions asked. But the man seems sketchy on first meeting, is sketchy even after knowing him, and is slimy as pond scum; which is fitting because he is scum. This is a guy that took cruel pleasure in insulting you ever chance he got. Back seven years ago when Aethelwulf's mom died, he called her weak for dying so easy to cancer.
Byre proposed somebody else, "Should we ask Yamada Tolvoko?"
His friend shook his hand dismissively believing this to be popsterus. "Big cheese himself? risky?"
"Worth it," he says slowly releasing a drawn out sigh. "For the business." Being unable to convince his friend causes him to shake his head out frustration. Finally, he gives up and decides to go along. They both had come to an agreement that seeing the boss was not only the best plan, but the only one. If they didn't catch the rat, the entire organization could be threatened. So they headed for the temporary headquarters.
In unison, they stood up and begin to follow the weathered and dirty sidewalk around a corner of a grey cinderblock building that was fenced off by a thick chain link fence. There the car was waiting for them next to a butcher shop with a lit up neon sign. "They're never going to fix the artificial sunlight down here, are they?"
His friend gave a laugh, "That implies they care about down here." Byre got in the driver side and he got in the passenger side. They followed the freeway running the Berth of the hive city into the middle class economy zone known as midcity.
They pulled aside a multistory warehouse constructed of pitted and eroded steel sheets held in place by rivets. Every time there was a breeze the haphazardly hung roof creaked ominously. He looks around then cast a glance at Byre. "Somethings is not right. The guards are nowhere to be seen, the warehouse workers are gone. The place is deserted. Even in the middle of the night it's not this deserted. Look around, there are no people anywhere."
Byre look at him contemplating and then takes a looks around; nodding in agreement, "Your right. We should get out encase this is a trap."
"No," Aethelwulf firmly. You could see the determination in his eyes. "I need to know what's going on. You don't have to follow me."
"When have I ever abandon you?"
"You been a good friend of mine but you got your own stuff to worry about."
Byre grabs his hand, "You're not going in there without me."
He shakes his head and sighs, "fine."
They walk around the back of the building to a set of metal stairs leading to a metal catwalk attached to office's entrance. They followed the stairs and stepped inside. It was dark and the only light that could be seen was coming from down the hall. "Hello," he calls out? "Yamada?" There was no answer. The only sound was their footsteps. "I don't mean to disturb you," he felt his hair on the back of his neck prick up, something is very wrong here.
"Do me favor, get car running Byre. Something is really wrong here and we're going to need to leave in a hurry. "
Byre nodded adding, "good idea." The man set off down the stairs. Now he was alone and immensely regretting his decision. The rows of cubicle stretch off straight to the offices, where the corridor turns left. Despite the cold feeling gnawing at his gut, he pressed. In the corridor where it turns left a single light is on. No one is in the corridor only flickering shadows. "Hello," he calls out again, but was once again met with silence. Inside the first of many rooms along the corridor, amongst the many shadow is a man standing in silence. Whoever they were, they were standing motionless facing the doorway. Even in the darkness he could sense the danger of a weapon being drawn. He jumps back bypassing a las beam meant to end his life and waste no time running for the exits. The entire way he was sure the man was right behind him, seconds away from killing him.
From Aethelwulf's pale complexion, Byre had guessed he didn't find Yamada. "You find Yamada in there?" He shakes his head.
"Someone was in there standing all creepy. He was standing motionless like a fucking statue in dark. When I got close, he tried to take my head clean off. Between the authorities and this? I don't know what the fuck is going on. Any other place Yamada hangs out?"
"The bistro on mainstreet," Byre says.
"Guess we're going there," Aethelwulf says kicking the car, starting to pace about nervously with a quick glance back at the warehouse. Finally, he gets in with a slamming of the car door.
Bistro was nice, even the artificial sunlight worked; low up beat music played in the background. There was quite the murmur from patrons. But no Yamada. His steely grey eyes swept the bar, but once again didn't turn up anything. A waiter bumps into him while passing by. The blow to his shoulder is hard enough to sting. As he is watching the bistro, someone is watching him. A man approaches him wearing a grey vinyl jacket with a white undershirt and a white vest. "Looking for yamada?"
"Yes," he replies.
"So is everyone," the man says "He has been missing for days."
"You think ..." He pauses dreading what he is about to say. "The authority got him."
"Nah, the authority never got close enough to pin him. Tell you what, why don't you take a seat. Order whatever you like on the house. If Yamada shows up, I'll give you a call."
"Thanks," he says with curtly nod. He goes to retrieve Byre.
Byre and Aethelwulf's are sitting at a round bistro table covered by a white table cloth, together in the upper class bistro. Both men are nursing a drink and staring at nothing. Though Aethelwulf's is playing with his drinks as well. The light in the bistro turns down low and slow music is playing. Byre speaks first, "I don't like this, first the authority and now Yamada is missing? I'm telling you we have a rat in our midst." Aethelwulf looks up from his drink.
"We don't even know if Yamada is in danger," he tries to argue, but he does see his friend's point.
"What can we do next? Yamada is gone for now. We can't peddle technology anymore." Byre adds the next part of the conversation and critical piece of the puzzle.
"I won't become part of the problem by peddling flesh and drugs. I'll go legitimate for a while."
"Man, there is no money in going straight." Byre replies and dismissed the entire preposterous idea out of hand.
Wulf slams his hand on the table. "I'm not some petty criminal. You're either the solution or part of the problem. No, is my final answer."
"So," Byre asks swooshing his drink in his right hand, "what job would you have me take? A sell sword or a butcher?"
"I know these streets Byre; I could guide people through them. I know every backalley and every hidden passage. I can guide them safely, maybe." There is a brief silence between them. "I can be an officer in the PDF." Byre snorted.
"You? In the PDF, fat chance. What about maintenance? Your sharper than a tack." Wulf gets a chuckles out of this. "You have a knack for trading."
Wulf raises one finger adding, "and getting into trouble."
"I'll drink to that," Byre say lifting his glass of ale. Wulf returns the gesture.
The glass windows to the bistro explode raining glass down around them, las fire erupted from outside, patrons begin screaming. Wulf hid under the table, as well as his friend, and drew his sidearm. But dare not move from his position. The staff had drawn their concealed weapon turning the bristo into a warzone. The entire ordeal took a minute but felt like a life time to those that participated.
"Solomanders," Byre said standing up. "What are they doing this far up. They're an undercity gang. Security in Somburg is terrible."
An older man with grey eyes half buried under bushy eyebrows and with the body of a younger man over hears the conversation and speaks up; Wulf looks at him. The man says, "How dare they attack the Yamada family, bunch of petty gang members. If they wanted a war, by the emperor and the gods before the golden age of man, I will give them one."