Through The Vortex
Part 17 - Den of Thieves

The man that looked like Howard lowered his eyes first and abruptly turned away from me. "Find him some place to sit and a covering to keep him warm. His Chooser would not be pleased if he were to become ill."

There was movement behind me as someone left to do his bidding, giving me an opportunity to take a better look at my surroundings. The first thing I noticed and was grateful for was the fact that the floor was dry. My feet were wet and cold as a result of traipsing through the sewer and my footwear was disgustingly soaked, but I comforted myself with the fact that I was free of the disgusting tunnel. I looked around me and counted approximately fifteen poorly clothed people in the room with me, all gaunt and worn looking. As they shuffled around the metal space that I decided must have been a maintenance room, I didn't recognize anyone else as being the double of anyone I knew on Earth.

The four walls were lined with... stuff. That's the best way I can describe it. The overall appearance gave it a look of a poorly organized, overly stocked thrift store, with folded clothing, blankets and who knew what else stacked against the walls from the floor to the ceiling. There were legs of chairs sticking out, mattresses, a small ratty table or two, and all of the furniture was completely covered by the afore mentioned stuff.

One area in particular was being cleared away. Armfuls of various colored articles of clothing were removed to reveal a single, worn fabric chair. A small, hunched person with a dirty face and brown, greasy and ratty hair looked up after the last armful had been transferred to another spot in the room and motioned for me to come over. The hand still gripping my arm more or less dragged me to that point. I sat quickly in the chair, not wanting to be thrown into it. I wish I could have brought my knees up to my chest because the room was cold, and I felt it acutely because of the wet shoes and thin garments I always wore.

The same person who'd cleared the chair, a woman I decided, came back to me a moment later with a worn but clean-looking blanket. The edges were slightly frayed and there were holes in it. "I will search to locate some coverings for your feet," she told me in a quiet voice, watching me even though her face was pointed towards the floor.

"My gratitude," I said, taking the offered blanket and heard the sharp intake of breath from the woman who seemed startled by my words. Then slowly her head rose and a hesitant smile grew on her face, showing the lack of several front teeth. She knelt down and took the impractical shoes - that I referred to as slippers - off my feet, then quickly stood and left.

I waited until she walked away before tossing the old blanket over my shoulders, hoping it would help to ease the chill. With nothing else to do, I sat back and once again looked around the room and sniffed. Although it smelled somewhat better than the tunnel I'd been led through, there was a decidedly damp and rank odor hanging in the air that had no doubt leaked in from the sewer line. My attention was drawn to the man who'd abducted me when he left off speaking to one of the others in the room and strode in my direction. He stopped directly in front of me and proceeded to scowl down at me. If he thought he was intimidating me, he was wasting his time. I'd face a lot worse then him on the streets of L2 and in an OZ prison. "You will not to depart from this space unless you are instructed. Do you understand?"

I nodded, deciding to act like a Purple should and not to tick the guy off. After glaring another moment or two, the surly man finally turned and went about his business. I sighed, wondering why I always seemed to be the one to get into trouble, here as well as in my former life on Earth. I thought about what the guys would think of me at the moment: barefoot, pregnant, and kidnaped by a bunch of sewer dwellers. No matter how you look at it, it was pretty pathetic. If the guys knew about my current circumstances it would no doubt ruin my reputation as a tough guy and Shinigami. In the back of my mind I could hear the four familiar voices commenting on the situation: Wufei's voice sounded slightly exasperated as he said, You're a magnet for trouble, Maxwell. You only get in these kinds of predicaments so that I have to come and rescue you, Heero teased. Duo, please be more careful; Don't take so many chances. Of course Quatre would be worried. And then Trowa would merely give me a half-knowing smirk, communicating that the others were right on all counts. At that moment I felt overwhelmed by how much I missed all of them.

My feet felt like blocks of ice by the time the pitiful woman returned with a pair of ugly, thick green socks. She knelt down once again and slipped them on my feet, then took a moment to vigorously rub each of them with both hands in an effort to warm them up.

"Malia!" The booming male voice of my abductor caused the woman's body to jerk and she shot to her feet, looking fearful. "Do not provide him further comfort." She gave a curt nod of her messy head to the gruff man, gave me a look of apology, then darted off. The man who'd forcibly taken me from Mueller gave me a baleful glare before turning away and ignoring me altogether.

So I sat quietly in that chair with the borrowed socks on my feet and ragged blanket over my shoulders, both giving a small bit of warmth to my chilled bones. Several times I found it necessary to shift in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position, but I soon decided it was a lost cause. I'd softened up living as Duwan, a fact made more pronounced by fact that the chair felt too damn hard on my bony butt. With nothing other than my discomfort to occupy myself, I directed my attention to watching my kidnapers as they worked around the cluttered room. There seemed to be some kind of sorting or organizing going on. The piles of "stuff", carried by the ragged and thin people, came and went through the door opposite the side of the room that I had entered. The eyes of those in the room turned to me frequently, as if they were as curious about me as I was about them. I bet they would like to have talked to me but it obvious they were intimidated or maybe even afraid their gruff leaders because no one approached me. I was disappointed. If no one was allowed to talk to me I probably wouldn't be finding out anything else about his lower class of Erith's society.

With only the bustling about and low voices speaking beyond my ability hear, I quickly became bored. Yawning, it slowly dawned on me that I wasn't afraid of these rough people. I was pretty sure I could defend myself against any of them, if it came to that, but suppose I felt safe because of the way the Whites cast their side-long glances at me. These poor, wretched refuse of Erith apparently had an underlying respect for either my rank or condition. Even my abductor, rough as he'd initially been in the early stages of my kidnaping, and despite the dark glares he shot my way, didn't seem to want to physically harm me. His actions indicated that he'd been trying to intimidate me into behaving, a tactic that had no doubt worked on other timid Purples who'd found themselves in my position.

I was calm enough about the situation, that I wasn't going to be hurt, to relax as I huddled into the sparse warmth that the holey blanket offered. I shifted again, setting the side of my head against the tall pile of cloth next to me and closed my eyes, hoping to catch a few winks regardless of the fact that the air still smelled of mildew and sewage and that my stomach wasn't too happy about either one.

I jerked awake at the touch of a hand on my knee. Through the thin material of the clothing I wore, I could feel heat and calloused palms. My eyes focused on the man crouched in front of me at eye level. Howard's double held a steaming, chipped yellow mug in his hands. "Drink this and it will warm you," he said, offering me the two handled cup. "You are blanched. Are you well?"

I nodded and took the cup from him. "Just cold," was my honest complaint. I brought the cup up and let the steam kiss my face, relishing the warmth and taking in a deep breath, inhaling the odor of the contents. It smelled like... berries, a welcome reprieve from the smell of raw sewage that lingered in the room. Taking a tentative sip, I found the dark brew to be bitter with just the slightest aftertaste of berry. Having had Quatre as a close friend, I was often faced with a cup of tea. It seemed to be some sort of bonding ritual for the blond Arabian. From my first encounter with tea, I'd learned that it was drinkable if I put quite a bit of sugar in it. I didn't think it would be appreciated by my captors if I asked for this world's equivalent. It was probably something these impoverished sewer dwellers didn't have anyway.

After a couple of swallows of the bitter liquid, I looked up to the man still crouched at eye level with me. Unlike the Howard I knew, this man's face lacked the vitality that I'd always associated with the brilliant aerospace/mechanical engineer. His eyes lacked the spark of life and quirky sense of humor that personified the builder of Peacemillion. Sure, the man with the South Pacific tan and Hawaiian shirts had wrinkles on his face, but most of them were from laughter and sunshine rather than the deep, hard-life furrows the man in front of me had etched deeply across his forehead and around his eyes and mouth. "My gratitude," I said, nodding to the hot drink. Its taste was close to vile but it was hot and warmed me from the inside out. "What are you called?"

The man snorted. "It would be unwise for me to speak it, for you will undoubtedly be interviewed if you make the decision to return to your Chooser."

He was right, of course, but I was curious about the Whites and so many other things. "Do you do this often? Snatching a Purple for some kind of gain?"

The man shrugged, not giving up much information. "We do what we must to perpetuate the cause that frees the upper rank's breeders from their degrading servitude."

Degrading servitude? Frowning, I asked, "Are you telling me that the reason you brought me here is not for your own profit but to give me a chance to break my contract?"

The man answered with a curt nod of his head.

Suddenly, and quite surprisingly, I felt... curious yet resentful. "I'm a Purple and carrying my Chooser's progeny. What would happen to me, to my progeny, if I decided to break my contract and choose your way of life?"

The man's eyes lit up with a spark of hope in them, and I could see he thought he could win me over to his way of thinking. "We have a med-tech in another space than here. He will remove your collar and bands. After which he would extricate the AU from your body, freeing you from your burden and rank. You will the have the freedom to choose a new way for yourself."

My frown deepened. It couldn't be as cut and dry as he made it seem. It came to me then that he hadn't mention the child within the A.U. "Do you mean this med-tech will deliver the progeny when it's mature enough to breathe, and then take it and the A.U. out?"

"No, that was not my meaning," the other man answered, his face reflecting the seriousness of the topic. "We have no use for progeny that are from Blues and Reds and not born of females. Even so, the progeny of Whites rarely survive the ordeal of birth. We claw our way through our existence as Whites in Sangor. Our survival is difficult enough without adding the burden of young ones to our suffering."

My hands instinctively went to my belly. "No!" I said firmly. "You said I had a choice, and I choose to return to my Chooser to fulfill my contract."

"You would rather choose demeaning servitude over freedom?" the man asked, disbelieving my choice and apparently not too happy about it.

"I would choose life over death." I looked from him down to my slightly protruding belly and a surge of the strongest emotion I've ever felt swept through me. It was an overwhelming feeling of love for the two small beings forming inside of me. I swallowed hard and had to blink back the tears as I realized the strength of my bond with them. Without a doubt, I would be willingly to give up my life for theirs if I had to. "I gave my own seed to my Chooser and what I carry in the A.U. is a part of me. There's life growing in here and my heart tells me this is the most important thing I have ever done. I'll fight you for all I'm worth to keep you from harming them."

"You are inexperienced as to what you are passing by," the man replied in a rebuking tone. "You were born and trained to be nothing more than a breeder, kept within isolated walls and used as the Blues and Reds desire. You know nothing of freedom, of making choices of your own without collars and stripes of color telling others of your rank and duty."

I had to force myself not to punch at the man in the nose for his insults. From what I'd learned about Purple's role in this society, I knew that some of what he said was true, about Purples as least, but the part about me being naive about freedom wasn't. I decided to tackle the most objectionable thing he'd said first. "I do know what it is to not have freedom, but I also know what it means to fight for it," I told him sternly. "I've known what it's like to be cold and hungry, to live with depravation, death and grief. I've lived a part of my life treated like the lowest of the low, like a White, but it didn't defeat me; it only made me stronger. From all I've gone through, I've learned to choose life and to value it as much as freedom and peace. Erith might not be perfect, and I don't agree with how the Whites are treated, but this place has attained peace unlike the place I've come from."

"Peace," the Howard look alike spat the word out as if it were something unpleasant, interrupting me at the beginning of a rant even Wufei would have been proud of. "Whites know nothing of this peace you speak of. We fight for our food, for shelter and the chance to earn our way. We are trod upon by all other ranks simply because we bear no bands of color on our arms."

I sympathized with the man who was steadily growing angrier as he spoke of the unfairness of his life. "I agree that you and the rest of the Whites have been treated inhumanely."

"What is that word?" the older man snapped angrily.

"It means you've been treated unjustly, wrongly. Whites are those who lost their bands because they couldn't live within the guidelines of Erith or Sangor, correct?" The older man scowled, then grudgingly nodded, telling me it was true. "Let me tell you what happens to people who break the guidelines where I come from and you judge which life is worse."

I noticed then that the others in the room had gathered closer to the place where the other man and I had been speaking. It was obvious they were listening to our conversation. "Where I came from, If a person is found guilty of breaking a rule, or what we call the law, they go to a place called prison. It's a building that contains many small rooms, smaller by far than this room. There are metal bars that keep them in that small space. They eat, work and move about when told, and even retire in the eventide and awaken when they're told to do so. They have no freedom, no choices."

The room became still around us and all eyes looking our way were wide with surprise. Pseudo Howard looked doubtful. "Where is this place of your origin?" he asked.

"Far away,"

After a moment, the man nodded. "It is better to be a White and free than in this place you describe. We have little, but we move about as we please, except in the urbanas." I knew he was talking about the inner city and its streets and commons. Mueller had already explained to me that those places were off limits to all Whites.

Suddenly, the far door to the room was flung open and it crashed with a loud bang against the metal wall behind it. A man I hadn't seen before and whose appearance was the same run-down state as the others burst though the open doorway. "The settlement has been agreed to by the Purple's Chooser," he announced, rather breathless. "We are to take him back to the pool of water where he was taken from his caregiver. The exchange will happen there."

"No enforcers?"

"She made a contract with me that she would not inform the enforcers."

The man in front of me stood, a look of fierceness on his worn face. He looked down at me. "You will not choose freedom?" he asked. I shook my head; the Whites had nothing to offer me. Frowning, Howard's double turned to look at the man who had taken me from Mueller's side. "Bring him," he ordered. Then without a look back, he left me and our earlier conversation.

Without even a grunt of hello, the brute approached and grabbed my arm, roughly, pulling me up from the chair and to my green stockinged feet. With a steel grip on my arm, he pulled me out of the room through the door the messenger had made his appearance moments before. Howard's double was hastily ordering the other Whites about before he followed after us, and I gathered from his words that the ragtag group was going to relocate, just in case something went wrong.

Three Whites walked with me as we traveled through the underground labyrinth of metal, the two original men who had taken me and Howard's double. It seemed to take a longer period of time to return me to the surface than it had taken to bring me down through the sewer tunnels to their hideout, but I was so turned around there was no way I could get my bearings. The underground tunnels were like a labyrinth with countless twists and turns. I decided that even Heero would be confused if he were in my place. Like that would ever happen, I thought, snickering at the very thought of Heero pregnant, wearing something akin to a harem costume and being held for ransom by sewer dwellers. Ridiculous and amusing.

We finally left the narrow corridors and entered another room, similar to the one where I'd been held. Again the walls were lined with more piles of clothing, blankets and other items. We crossed the room to the other door and I hoped it wasn't the entrance to the awful smelling sewer line. The opening of the door and the stench that wafted in dashed my hopes. I was pulled unwillingly into the sewer line, regardless that I was wearing socks on my feet. Just thinking about what I'd stepped into that was wetting my feet, caused my stomach to heave and out came the bitter tea I'd had earlier.

My three silent escorts paused briefly while I finished throwing up, and the moment I stopped, they turned and we continued on our way with a faint light held high in Howard's double's hand. While they dragged me along, I once again put my hand over my mouth and nose to try and keep myself from being sick. There was nothing left in my stomach by that time, but it sure didn't keep the gag reflex from kicking in.

We finally made it to a ladder and stopped. The man I'd first met in the sewer hole when I'd climbed down into the putrid tunnels earlier that day, now moved up the ladder and cautiously opened the manhole. I shut my eyes against the light of day as it came streaming through the opening, feeling like it was burning a hole in my retina with its brightness.

"All is clear," came the announcement from above. Pulled forward, I was nudged into climbing up the ladder's rungs as the man at the top scurried out of the manhole and crouched at the top, waiting to give me a hand up. As I crawled out into the open and onto the blue grass, a hand clamped painfully around my ankle, holding me in place on my hands and knees. The man behind me, my abductor and evidently this group's muscle, held me in place until he crawled out of the hole himself. Once he'd gained his feet, he pulled me up to stand next to him and waited for the last man to climb out after us. His glare in my direction was a clear warning not to pull anything funny. I tried to think of how a Purple would react in this kind of situation. No doubt a pampered, pregnant Chosen would to into hysterics, with Herron possibly being the exception. Yet as I looked at the grim faces of the men leading me, their eyes warily shifting back and forth, probably looking for a trap, they didn't look like they wanted to deal with an over-emotional Purple at the moment. Though it seemed cut and dry and something they'd done frequently, kidnaping apparently still had some element of danger attached to it.

By the placement of the sun in the sky and the coolness in the air I knew it was almost evening. The grip on my arm tugged me forward and across the blue grass while staying behind bushes and shrubs as much as possible to hide our presence. I cast my eyes around and realized we were directly across the pond from where I'd been taken. We hunkered down into the bushes and through the leaves I could see Muller in the distance along with our mistra and another person dressed in red that I didn't recognize. All three were sitting on the bench I'd relaxed on earlier that day.

Skirting the pond and using whatever cover we could manage, we approached the three who were obviously waiting our arrival. From the corner of my eye I saw the metal blade in the hand of the White's muscle a moment before he roughly grabbed me and placed my pregnant self in front of him. I wasn't too surprise to feel the edge of the sharp blade pressed to my neck.

"Don't harm him unless we've been deceived," Howard's double ordered.

He received a deep grunt in reply. At a nod from the leader we moved from out of the bushes and into the open, approximately one hundred feet from where the other three sat. Upon seeing us, they stood as one with Mueller looking frightened as he took a position behind Mistra Hildah. She looked angry enough to spit blood while the man next to her appeared as cool as a cucumber. My instincts prickled, warning me that a trap was about to be sprung. Having learned a long time ago to trust my instincts above all else, I immediately analyzed the situation. If things turned sour, I'd have to disarm the man holding me, the only one who posed a potential threat to me and my children.

"You were instructed to come alone," Howard's double growled, apparently unhappy with the third person.

Hildah's eyes narrowed as she glared at the man. "Anyone who would abduct an enceinte Purple is not a person to be trusted. Release him." She held out her hand, displaying a slim card that looked to me like one of the credit cards I used to carry in my wallet. "The agreed settlement has been met, now dispatch your part of the contract."

"Have your other Purple deliver it to me."

A very timid looking Mueller looked from Hildah to Howard's double, obviously uncertain and fearful. But his training regarding his contract with Mistra Hildah eventually overcame his trepidation and he cautiously stepped forward to take the small card from her hand. He then turned and walked towards us with slow, slightly faltering steps. The blade in the muscle man's hand was pressed against my throat again, something I was very uncomfortable with. Half way to us, Hildah called out sharply. "Mueller, halt!"

The blond man immediately obeyed, stopping mid step to turn his head and look back at her, waiting for further instructions. Hildah's calculating eyes turned to Howard's double once again. "Bring Duwan to his caregiver," she said firmly. "Once Duwan's hand is in his, he will give you the transaction chip."

All eyes turned to the leader of the sewer-dwelling Whites. "Do as she requests," the leader told the knife wielder.

Thankfully, the blade was removed from my neck and I was moved forward with my back still pressed against the taller man behind me. We stopped just short of stepping on my caretaker, who gave me a shaky smile as our eyes met. He reached out his right hand, inviting me to take it while his left hand remained in a semi-cupped position, holding the chip in his fingertips like some form of enticing bribe. The arm pinning me tightly to the solid chest slowly relaxed, releasing me. Putting my hand out, I clasped Mueller's cold palm and he immediately and forcefully pulled me forward and into his arms. The moment I was released, the man holding me snatched the card from Mueller's hand and fled, his footsteps strangely loud on the blue grass. For a reason unknown to me at the time, my caregiver suddenly pushed me down to the ground, forcing me to lie on my side as he put his own body over mine in protective position. With my face pressed into the cool blue grass, I managed to look up at Hildah and the man next to her just as a stream of white erupted from a narrow, cylindrical container that each of them carried in their right hands, pointed in the direction of my kidnaper.

With some effort and a major case of curiosity, I managed to turn my head towards the direction my former captors had been, hearing muffled grunts and a strangled cry of fear. The substance that had come out of the handheld containers appeared to be some form of sticky netting. My original kidnaper and the man who'd opened the manhole were caught in the netting which covered most of their upper bodies. They both struggled briefly before falling to their knees while Howard's double ran to the nearest clump of bushes before turning back to yell with anger and contempt, "Contract breaker." The anger on his face made it seem as if he'd just spoken the worst insult he could have thrown at the two Reds. He then fled, disappearing into the bushes and probably down some other manhole into the sewers below. My eyes went back to the two captured men who were now lying on their sides, unmoving.

"Duwan, are you well?" Mistra Hildah's voice, coming from above me, was filled with concern. Mueller finally got up and off of me and I moved to sit up, looking at Hildah as she crouched by my side.

"I'm all right," I reassured her. "But I really need to bathe." That much was obvious as the stench of the sewers clung to my clothing, hair and skin, not to mention the wet, fetid socks on my feet. I guess the smell didn't bother Mueller too much because he threw himself forward, wrapped his arms around my neck and hugged the daylights and breath out of me.

"My apologies, Duwan," the over-emotional blond cried into my hair as he smashed my face against his shoulder while kneeling in front of me.

"It wasn't your fault and I wasn't harmed," I said as I hugged him back. "There's nothing to be upset about any longer."

"They didn't harm you?"

"No, not really. They weren't unkind to me."

The man who had accompanied Hildah had come to stand by her side. He paused to look down at us and Hildah stood to speak with him. "My gratitude, Otta, for your assistance. It appears my Chosen is unharmed."

I looked to the two men who were laying unnaturally still, partially covered by the white substance that had shot out of the guns. "Are they dead?" I asked.

"They have been netted and rendered senseless by the contact relaxer," Hildah explained. "They will be dealt with appropriately."

"What does that mean?" I asked Mueller as the man in red strode off towards his prisoners.

"That Red is an enforcer," the blond told me as Hildah stood over us. "Our mistra contacted him as soon as I informed her that you had been taken from me. He will deliver them to a holding place and they will stand in judgement for their offense to Mistra Hildah and yourself."

Somehow, I felt badly for the two unconscious men. I know that what they did wasn't right, but they were obviously a desperate, downtrodden people.

"Come, Duwan. Mueller. Let us return to our abode so that Duwan may be cleansed from the taint on his skin and clothing. Otta will no doubt wish to inquire about your being taken, Duwan. I will ask him to come to our abode later this eventide."

Mueller disentangled himself from me and quickly got to his feet. He offered me his hand and helped pull me up. Hand in hand we followed behind Hildah as she led us away from the commons. I looked over my shoulder and felt some measure of pity and regret for the two men that lay on the ground. Regardless of what I'd just been through, I couldn't help but think that their way of bringing the bad guys down was impressive. Apprehended alive and without harming the perps or endangering innocent bystanders was pretty damn cool in my book. At the tug on my hand, I turned my attention back to the path in front of me as Hildah and Mueller led me back to the safety of our abode.

TBC