Write the First Time

With Berto safely tucked away in the labyrinth of the Citadel, I threaded my way through the streets of the city. The address on the card led me to a small side lane that I had passed many times but never turned down before.  It was nondescript.  Just a dank side alley filled with overflowing garbage cans and the scuttle of small animals that took flight as I approached.  The alley had a few scarred doors on each side.  Every one had a patina of slime and disuse to them.  None matched the address I had so I kept walking, scanning ahead, ears perked for noise from behind, all the while the gloom of shadows lengthened.  The lane ended abruptly.  I don't know why I was surprised.  I mean, it wasn't like the Black Moths were going to have a welcome mat or placard announcing their presence but I did, at least, expect a door.  Forgive me my ignorance, it was my first time playing to this level of field.  I wasn't quite aware of how out matched I was.  But that sad realization was quickly approaching.

I turned around slowly at the dead end.  More rats.  More stink.  Less light.  But still, no sign of a door.  Just a solid brick wall ahead.  I stepped forward, my toes brushing the loose mortar that lay in front of the wall.  I could not see a since clue that there was anything other than brick before me.  It even smelled of old stone.  I glanced at the card one last time and notice something.  The dark winged moth was glowing.  It wasn't pronounced.  Nothing you could find your way by.  But the shine was there.  I lifted it closer to my eye and the glow intensified.  Clearly, something was happening.  I stepped back and scanned the wall.  Sure enough, there was now a slot, small enough for the card, appearing before me.  There were no instructions but it seemed pretty self evident.  I slid my card into the crevice and waited.

The bricks began to rumble.  It was low and quiet.  A smell of oil and sulfur tinged the air and suddenly my brick wall opened into a small lobby.  A man sat behind a desk directly before me.  He glanced up at me in irritation and waved me in.  I hesitated.

"Come now, mustn't tarry.  You are letting in the smell," he snapped.  His nose wrinkled in distaste.  I scuttled forward and felt the opening shut behind me.  The room was small.  Only a few feet wide with four chairs along the north wall.  The desk with the fussy man sat next to another door.  This one plane wood.  It was closed.

"Now, let me see," the desk man pushed his spectacles up his nose and shuffled some papers with gnarled hands.  "Ah yes, Miss. Raz?  Is it?  And your brother, ah, Umberto de la Torez?  Where would he be, um?" he peered over the rim of his glasses and tapped his fingers impatiently.

"My brother couldn't make it.  He had another engagement." I answered levelly.

"I see," the desk man sighed in disappointment and scribbled something onto the page before him.  "Take a seat please, they will be here for you shortly."  He nodded toward the row of chairs to my right.  I watched as he rolled the paper before him into a cylinder and then slid it into an opening behind him.  There was a woosh of air and it shot up the wall, through an opening below the ceiling and out of sight.  The man returned to his scribbling without further notice.  Warily, I took a seat and waited.

Write About A Sudden Silence

It took two more shots of courage before I left the bar. I needed time to think my options through. It wasn't pretty. Bert must of sensed something was wrong from my sudden silence. He wrung his hands and swayed quietly at my side while my head raced. The Black Moths were big time. As the Citadel grew in strength and pumped out more efficient Runners, the under belly of the city responded in kind. Small time gangs and loan sharks were efficiently rounded up by the Runners and swallowed whole by the dark tower. The ones that escaped detection were the most ruthless and most deadly. About two years ago, rumors began to circulate that a new organization had formed. Petty differences and territory skirmishes were squashed under this new leadership. In order to thwart a better mousetrap, the mice had evolved into something smarter, quicker, and deadlier. I didn't know much about how the organization was run. I liked playing in the kiddie pool and had no illusions that I could swim in the deep end. Unfortunately, it appeared I had just taken the plunge.  But I could run. Berto and I could high tail it right now for the countryside. Maybe find work on a farm or sheep ranch. Or we could head out to sea and try and loose ourselves on one of the outer islands. Maybe try our hands at piracy. But while we might slip out of the reach of the Black Moths, we would leave quite a few behind. Our step brothers and sister, friends, colleges.  I shuddered at the thought.  Santiago knew us.  I had no illusions that he would help me.  The casualties were too high for running away.

I pushed away from the bar and headed out the door and up the stairs.  It was heavy night.  Two moons hung low over the horizon.  My thumb rubbed the embossed moth again and I noted the address.  It wasn't far.  As I headed across town with Umberto in tow, I paused to look up at the Citadel that spiraled up the sky.  Even at this hour of night it was alive with lights and smoke and noise.  That was another option. I stopped on the corner and gazed at the building, thinking.  The Citadel wanted the Black Moths.  They had been hunting them for years.  So far, their Runners had been lead on a merry chase.  They would pay for what I knew.  Heck, this address alone would buy me a years worth of coin alone.  But again, there was the small issue of my family and friends.  While the Citadel would gladly protect me and Berto, I doubt they would throw their cloak of protection over all those I cared about.  No, I knew I had but one real choice. One true choice but there were still a few variables I could finesses. If I was going to have to play this cruddy hand, I might as well stuff as many aces up my sleeves as possible.

"Come on Berto, let's go to the Citadel," I said, walking briskly toward the square.

Berto's face scrunched in confusion.  "Raz?  Why we gonna do that?  I thought you said to never ever ever go there?"

I turned to face my brother.  "I know, I know.  But this is special."  Berto crossed his arms and planted his feet.  Clearly, my earlier admonitions to stay clear of the Runners were in full effect.  I didn't have time to waste so I decided to go to my old stand-by, the harmless lie.

"It's the kids, Berto," I pleaded.  "Remember?  We promised to help them?  Well. my old pal Santiago at the bar told me that the Citadel needs to be told about what is going on.  He thinks the Runners may be able to help.  I have to go and, well, meet with someone real quick. I thought if you head to the Citadel and, you know, report what you learned, that would be fastest?

Umberto's face cleared and his shoulders straightened.  He fairly radiated determination.  "You got it Raz!  I knew you would think of something. I'm a gonna just go and tell..." he faltered and his brows fell again.  "Um, Raz?  Who am I gonna tell?"

"You know, the guy.  The one who deals with the Cuttle?  The ambassador...um, I forget.  Just tell 'em you want to see whoever is in charge of Cuttle relations.  I'm sure they'll direct you were you need to go," I nodded sagely and gently shoved Umberto toward the Citadel.  He didn't look totally convinced so I added, for good measure, "It's for the kids.  Berto.  The kids."

I watched my half-brother as he headed out.  I had no doubt that he would be scuttled back and forth for hours.  He'd probably land at some poor pencil pushers desk but he would also be safe.  For now.  And that was one less thing to worry about.

22342 South Reacher.  I fingered the card one last time before putting it in my pocket.  I twisted the ring around my finger for reassurance and headed off.  Time to meet the Black Moths.

Write About a Black Winged Moth

If you have to bluff, go big.  No hesitation, no thinking, just jump right in and trust that Lady Luck is feeling magnanimous.  It had worked so far in my life, so I decided to continue riding the great Lady's coat tails just a little longer.  I opened the door quickly and soundly.  No sneaking in, no slinking.  Just squared the shoulders and walked through like I owned the place.  If you look like you belong, who knows?  Maybe you do.  Of course, having Berto at the back helped.  Most people's glance slide right off my face and up, up, up to his.  Tonight was no exceptions.  My brother and I stepped squarely from that dank tunnel into a crowd.  The Lady held me in her arms yet again.  I knew exactly where we had landed.  We were in the back store room of McFreedy's Fine Ales.  The name was a lark.  The place was owned by a swarthy man named Santiago and the only fine thing it served was a wicked hangover.  It was near the docks however, and Santiago was known as a bit of a smuggler.  Nothing big.  Just little stuff slipped under the eyes of the Runners and the Citadel.  I had never known him to traffic in human goods but this was neither the time nor place to ponder such mysteries.  Our entrance had turned the heads of a group of gentlemen who were playing Sharks in the back storeroom.  The stakes looked high and one seat was already vacant.  The trail of blood that ran along the floor to the door I now stood in was relatively fresh.  The strange sticky substance in the tunnel behind me now made prefect sense.  We we lucky not to have run into the removal team.  Even luckier, Santiago wasn't there to alert the gamers to our uninvited status. The goons by the back door had taken a step forward when we appeared.  But they had stopped at our confident entrance.  Bless the Lady of the Bluff.  She was going to save our hides once again.

"Gentleman," I scanned the table, making brazen eye contact with each man present.  A few I recognized by reputation.  Without missing a beat, I headed across the room toward the back door that lead to the public room of McFreedy's.  The goons looked towards their bosses but no one stopped us.  With the same false confidence, I shouldered my way past them, tugged the door open, and left the room of players behind.  Santiago was serving behind the bar and his eyes widened when he saw us emerge.  I made a beeline to him and perched myself on a sticky stool.

"Hey, man, we need to talk," I stated simply.  Berto leaned his back against the bar, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room behind my back.  Santiago nodded to the men next to me and they grabbed their drinks and headed for a table.  The stools around me were now empty.  Time to run the bluff.

Santiago was in his late 40s.  His face and hands were heavily scared.  Whether from hard labor or hard fighting, no one know.  He was a distant cousin to someone in the Duermo organization and as such he was afforded their protection.  I hadn't had much dealings with the Duermos.  They were big time.  I was far to small to register on their business plan.  But it did explain what I saw the other night.  Human trafficking was right up their alley.  Now, I just had to confirm my suspicion.

I leaned into the bar and lowered my voice.  "I saw the 'delivery' that cam from your back room down at the docks the other night.  It seemed a bit...fresh if you get my drift."

Sanitago had an excellent poker face.  He continued to slowly rub the bar in front of me with a damp cloth.  The moment felt like it was stretching too thin so I played my next highest card.

"Heard the Runners were paying good money for any leads about these fresh deliveries.  Now, I'm not one to pick sides, you know that Santiago, but money is money.  If what I saw has a price, I want to be paid.  Don't rightly care where the funds come from.  So if there is someone else I should see about what I know, someone else in the market so to speak?  I'd be more than willing to take my business there first."

Santiago continued with those slow maddening circles.  I was just about to throw down my cards and quit this game when he left the rag on the bar and reached under the counter.  Berto tensed and I had to remind myself to keep breathing.  Slowly, he raised his eyes to mine and slid a card across the table.  Like a dealer in Sharks, he flipped it face up in front of me.  I'm sure I blanched when I saw it.  An embossed black winged moth stared up at me.  With deliberation, Santiago slipped a gnawed pencil from behind his ear, scratched an address across the bottom of the card, and slide it across the counter to me.  The stakes had just turned.  I picked up the small cream card and brushed my thumb over the embossed moth.  Santiago pushed back from the bar with a wry smile and set a shot of something foul before me.  Without hesitating, I downed it in one gulp.  I'd need all the courage I could find.  The Night Moths.  Fuck me.  I'd have been better off in the hands of the Runners.

In The Distance

The tunnel opened before me.  I could feel my pulse rise and my breath came fast in my throat.  There was no light in the distance.  No sound.  No breeze.  Just dead dark.  My hands began to shake as the tunnel seemed to close around me and I'm sure I would have fallen if Umberto hadn't wrapped and arm around me.

"Raz?  Raz?  Are you ok?" he asked me.  "Are you sure you wanna do this Raz?  It looks kinda dark...."

Something about the stupidity of that remark shook me back on my feet.  I pulled out of his grasp and rummaged in my overcoat pocket to find the gem Jules gave me.

"No shit it's dark you idiot," I grumbled, slapping the gem in my hand and watching as it flickered to life, "it's a secret tunnel.  What do you think, it's going to have lighting installed?"  I strode off in a huff, the eerie blue gem light casting shadows along the tunnel walls.  It didn't illuminate far ahead but enough that I could see where I was going.  I heard Berto shuffle behind me.  When the trap door closed, the darkness fully engulfed us but I refused to let my steps falter.  I kept my breathing steady and focused on Jules' gem light.  I did, however, set a brisk pace.  I wanted to get to the end of this passage and out as soon as possible before panic overwhelmed me.

The tunnel itself rose sightly.  The ground was muddy and the sides were rough cut stones.  There was enough height to stand comfortably but if I were to stretch out my arms, they would easily touch the sides of the passage.  Single file was our best option.  With Umberto's hulking footsteps behind me, I lead the way into the darkness.  Time is a funny thing.  In the dark, without any sounds or outside cues, it's easy to lose track of it.  We couldn't have been walking long before I saw a bundle up ahead.  I slowed as I approached.  In our pathway, crumpled on the ground, was a brown coat. Never one to leave a pocket left unsearched, I knelt down and rifled through the coat.  A few pence, a small notebook that was too hard to read in the gem-light, and a round silver watch with the initials ARW engraved on front.  I tucked my treasure into my pockets and motioned Umberto to follow.  The ground of the tunnel was damp and muddy as if a great flow of water had recently passed through.  It made the going slow as our footing was questionable.  But still the tunnel traveled up.  After an indeterminable amount of time, I could make out a faint glow up ahead. I tapped our gem off and stood for a moment, letting my eyes adjust.  The darkness began to settle about me.  Again, I could feel my heart starting to seize up and my head began to spin.  It was so dark.  So dark.

"Raz?  Um, why are we stopped?" Umberto whispered into my ear.  For once, I didn't care about appearances.  I reached back and grabbed his big warm hand.  Together, we crept toward the glowing outline of the door before us.  When we reached it, the muffled sound of voiced carried into the tunnel.  I could hear clinking glasses and laughter.  It sounded like a party.  I had hoped the entrance to the tunnel would be in a secluded place we could just slip into.  That was not going to happen.  We were going to have to make a very loud entrance.  Loud and fast.  I stepped back from the door way to think.  I wished there was some way to get a peek on the other side but we were going to have to go in blind and hope for luck.  Not the way I like to operate but, truth be told, it was my usual modus operandi.

I stretched myself up on tiptoe to reach Umberto's ear.  "OK brother, here's the plan....."

On the Horizon

There are few things you should know about me.  I guess now is as good a time as any to fill in some of the details before events start to unfold.  First, I am the youngest of nine.  At least, at last count it was nine.  We all share the same mother and are scattered across the City and even some of the outer Islands.  Old mom got around.  Second, mom had the gift.  She practiced the Dark Arts, had an understanding with the devil or could touch the other side.  Whatever you call it, she had the goods.  Each of us got a taste of her gifts to varying degrees.  Of all of us, I think I take after her most.  I was tested at age 12.  The results were off the cart and I was quickly bundled up and stowed on-board a ship for a direct journey to the University.  Luckily, the masters didn't appreciate my skill with locks and I slipped off that ship before it set sail.  Which leads me to the next little quirk I have.  I love locks.  Mechanical, ethereal, alchemical, or just down right nasty, I adore them all.  If I was ever to go straight, I'd open a locksmith shop over on Market Street and spend the rest of my days happily tinkering away.  But the straight path just isn't in the cards, as my older sister would say.  And she would know.  What Elsie can see in her deck would turn you hair.  But I digress.  Lets see, what else?  Ah yes,  I suppose I should catalog my weaknesses as well as strengths.  The one I'm most branded with is arrogance.  Go figure, right?  Rashness.  Again, totally unjustified.  No concept of reality.  And fear of the dark.  No really, I'm terrified of darkness.  It isn't something I'm proud of but there it is.  Next break in the actions I'll give you the details but for now, we are out of time.  We've reached my sister Imogien's house.

Imogen isn't the oldest of the bunch, that distinctions belongs to Rueben.  But she is the oldest female which means she loves to boss us all around.  She also insists, as eldest daughter, that she be keeper of the family ring.  Arguing with Imogen gets you know where, trust me I've tried, so we've all resigned ourselves to this set up.  Imogen did well for herself.  She married early and well.  But things didn't work out so great for her husband.  I guess marriage to my sister isn't conducive to a long life.  Suffice to say, she married young, widowed even younger, and has been living large ever since.  Her home is in the posh part of town.  We've learned to approach by the servants door.  As we unlatched the side gate, Umberto's face lit up.  He loves Imogens.  Thinks she's a fine lady of quality.  Just more proof that Berto's mental facilities are a bit on the shaky side.  But I was more than willing to use it in my favor.

"Hey, Berto," I began as we rapped on the delivery door," why don't you pop on up and ask Imogen if we can borrow Mother's ring?  I know she'd love to see you."

Umberto nodded eagerly and a big grin broke across is broad and homely face.  Nellie, the downstairs maid, opened the door and waved us inside.  I settled down on the kitchen table and tucked into a nice meat pie while Berto followed Nellie upstairs nattering on happily.  Imogen loves Umberto.  It's a bit of a bone of contention between us. She would like nothing more than to make him her ward, slick him up, and introduce him into Society.  I believe Bertos strengths lie outside of cotillions and high teas.  More ont he side of barroom brawls and muscle work.  For this reason, I try to steer clear of old Imogen.  Our "discussions" usually turn into something much nastier.  So I was content with my meat pie and wheat ale.  It took about and hour or so before Berto came downstairs.  I don't know how Imogen did it but in that time she had managed to wash, trim and oil his hair, fit him with new breeches and a thick woolen overcoat.  But no matter how you dress a turkey, it's still a turkey.  Berto stood before me, shifting from foot to foot and picking at his sleeve.  He managed to work loose a seam thread and I watched the cuff begin to unravel.

I sighed.  "Did you at least get the ring?"  I asked.

"Yeah Raz, I got it!" Umberto stuck out a meat mitt and there on his pinky rested a clouded red ruby set in a silver band.

"Alright, lets get out of here," I said and headed for the door.  Berto grabbed two pies for himself and by the time the side gate had latched, his woolen overcoat was decorated with trails of grease and pastry crumb.  By the time we reached the street, his coiffed hair had returned to its disheveled state and he was looking more and more like my brother every minute.

The sun was just hitting the horizon when we arrived at the wharf.  The seagulls circled and called out in harsh tons above our heads and the smell of salt and raw fish lay think in my mouth.  I could just see a large vessel way out on the sea.  It shimmered in the suns last rays.  More mirage than real as it slipped over the horizon.  I lead Berto over to the rock wall I had investigated last night.  It looked as solid and substantial as before but a light push on the right spot and..... the hidden door popped open silently.  I took a moment to admire the mechanics of it.  Very well done and maintained.  This close to the sea everything rusted fast but these hinges and bolts were solid and well oiled.  This was not a rarely used bolt hole.  This door was too well cared for for that.  Ahead, the tunnel was a deep black.  And remember that fear of the dark?  Yeah, that's going to prove problematic in a few moments.  Very problematic.

Write About A Silver Ring

We cut across town.  It was early morning and the street traffic was light.  Mostly food vendors setting up carts and cabbies jostling for a prime spot at the curb.  They didn't even spare us a second glance.  I wanted to hit one last stop before we explored the wharf and the tunnel.  We headed toward the heart of the city.  The buildings became taller and more respectable.  Less trash but more dirty looks as we threaded through the streets.  We were almost to our destination when Berto stopped suddenly.

"Look at the lights, Raz!" he exclaimed, turning down toward Lyson Road.  Up ahead, I could make out the pulsating, searing lights of Cuttle.

"We don't have time, Berto," I pleaded.  I tried to tug him back on track but it was no use.  Most people found the visual speech of the Cuttle disconcerting.  I had only a rudimentary understanding of what all the colors meant but only a fool would approach a Cuttle flashing the cold hard colors of blue and purple.  In my experience, the Cuttle were like rats.  They did their own thing and left you alone unless you cornered them.  Then, they fought viciously.  I avoided them at all cost.  But Umberto had a strange fixation with their blinking lights.  He claimed he could understand them.  But then, he also claimed he could hear butterflies sing when they flew.  He isn't the quickest off the starting blocks if you get my drift.

"They are so sad, Raz," Umberto muttered, as he hurried into the square in front of the Cuttle consul.  For such a big guy, Umberto can move surprisingly fast.  I had to hurry to keep up.  He stopped at the edge of the Cuttle crowd that had gathered on the embassy steps.  Deep midnight blue and dark violent violet colors splashed across his face from the Cuttle around him.  I stayed on the edge of the crowd.  I had no urge to get in the middle of that rats nest.  The Cuttle surrounded Berto quickly, pulsating rapidly.  Umberto stood still, his eyes wide, mesmerized by the lights.  The rhythm and glare gave me a headache and I had to look away.  When my sight cleared, the Cuttle had parted and Umberto was walking back to me, tears in his eyes.

"Raz, it's awful," Umberto sniffled, running his nose along his arm.  "They have lost their kids Raz.  Their kids!  And no one cares or is doing nothing.  Can we do something Raz?  I bet you can think of a way to help, right?"  Umberto looked down at me, expectantly.

Just between you and me, there was no way I was getting mixed up in Cuttle kid business.  Their offspring were a mean, dog eat dog, hardscrabble lot.  And I mean that literally.  Cuttle kids were notorious for loving the taste of black dog.  The last thing I wanted was to track down a couple of missing Cuttle squirts but I didn't have the time to win Umberto over to my way of seeing things so I did something I would end up regretting later... I lied.  It seemed like such a good idea at the time.  If only I knew the heart-ache it would cause us later.

"Sure Berto, we sure will help.  I bet if we find those Cuttle kiddos, they'll be some big reward for us which would be great, right?  But to do that, we need to hurry up and look into that tunnel I told you about.  No more wasting time, ok?" I said.  Umberto nodded eagerly and then wrapped me in a big bear hug.

"You're the best Raz!  I just knew I could count on you!"  Umberto dropped me back to the ground and ran back toward the Cuttle.  "I'll tell 'em we're on the case now!" he yelled over his shoulder to me.  I watched as he tried to talk to the Cuttle.  I have no idea what he told them or what they understood.  Their colors turned bright gold for a moment and then Umberto was back at my side, ready to go.

"So, whadda we gotta do, Raz?" he asked me.

"We need to pick up Momma's ring Berto," I said as we headed north, the lights of the Cuttle riot at our back.  "Then we'll be ready to explore."

You Found It In A Drawer

My plan was simple.  We were going to find out where that dark passage led.  Those men I had seen at the wharf were clearly trying to keep a low profile.  That meant, if we could find out what they were up to, we had something to sell.  Either our silence or our knowledge.  I didn't care either way.  Who ever paid more worked just fine for me.  We had made a pretty penny a while back when we had stumbled upon a counterfeiting ring a few years ago.  For the right price, our lips were sealed and our palms crossed.  In fact, that was where we had first met Jules.  She was the brains behind the operation and had figured out how to turn lead into gold.  Unfortunately, the effects proved to be temporary but Jules and her cohorts were long gone by the time that had happened.  Jules turned out to be a good resource over the years.  She always had some invention that wanted testing.  Most of the time, her ideas fell on the wrong side of the law which was just fine by me.  I figured before I headed back to explore the tunnel, I'd line my pockets with a few of her handy devices and see what, if anything, she had heard..

By the time we reached her neighborhood, dawn was breaking.  Jules worked under a printing shop.  She claimed that the sound of the printing press as it pounded out copies of the daily rag gave her inspiration.  All it gave me was a headache.  We reached the stairs that led down to her rooms just as the sun breached the horizon.


"Um, Raz, do I gotta?" Umberto had balked at the top of the stairs.  He had resumed is shuffling and hand wringing.  I stifled a sigh.  Umberto didn't like Jules.  Jules didn't like Umberto.  They were water and oil, cats and dogs, and any other over used cliche you could think of the described to forces that did not play well together.


"Yes Berto," I replied patiently, "we got to.  You lost the money, now we have to find more.  Jules is the way.  Sorry big guy."  I patted his arm and turned back to the stairs, taking them two at a time.  Umberto followed much slower.


The door was unlocked but I knew better than to open it.  Instead, I swung the metal message flap up and hollared out, "Hey Jules!  It's me!  Is it safe to enter?"


There was a loud crash followed by what sounded like a buzzing noise and the door was pulled open and out of my hand.  Jules looked disheveled but grinned up at me.  She was a tiny little thing.  Maybe five foot one on a good day.  But if you knew Jules, you knew height meant little.  Her smock was blackened with soot and she held a strange device in her hands. It was covered with gears and grease and what looked like small opalescent orb floated in air above it.  I didn't even try to wrap my mind around what it was.  It was out of my league.


"Razzie," grunted and frowned up at me.  "You have the worst timing," she said as she turned and walked into her lair.  I grinned at the back of her retreating figure before following but was stopped by Umberto tugging on my shirt tails.


"Please Raz?  Please?" he asked in a whisper.


"Oh, you brought It with you I see."  Jules turned and looked at Umberto.  Her head tilted to the right a bit and her eye lids lowered down to slits.  Then she smiled.  It wasn't friendly.


"Hey now, hey now, lets not do this Jules," I stepped between them, blocking her line of sight and felt Umberto growl behind me.  "Berto, why don't you go guard the door for me while I talk to Jules, ok?"


Jules had lowered her gaze and was fiddling with her device.  It began giving off sparks as the orb began rotating at an alarming rate. With a grunt, Umberto turned, slammed the door and stomped up the stairs.  Now it was my turn to glare.


"Really, Jules?  Really?  Do you have to do that?  You know Umberto is harmless?  Why do you have to rile him up so?" I asked and I settled myself in the nearest chair.


Jules shrugged and tossed the orb device into her desk where it sputtered to a stop.  "Just can't help myself," she sighed, and she untied her smock and soothed her wrinkled dress.  She glanced at me now with lowered lids and that same head tilt I had learned to watch out for.


"What are you up to Razzie?  You never visit me anymore unless something is going on.  Spill it.  What mess have you gotten tangled up in now."  She settled herself in a chair next to me and began fussing with a tray set for tea.  She passed me a delicate cup and saucer then sat back with her own while I explained the situation.  When I was done, she had finished her drink and was on her feet rummaging through her desk drawer.


"Ah, here it is!" she exclaimed as she pulled forth a small metal box.  She opened it carefully and then spun it in her palm so its contents faced me.  "This is a little gizmo I designed for a, er, client.  He never claimed it so it's been gathering dust for the last few months but I think it is just what you need."  Gently, she lifted a flat metal disc from the box and placed it in her palm.  The disk had a large raised stone set in the center and with her free hand, Jules gentle tapped the gem.  A soft glow began to emanate from the set jewel.  It grew in strength until Jules tapped the gem a second time.  Now the glow was a steady green light that illuminated her face in a ghastly manner.  But it was strong.


"One tap on.  Two taps to set.  Simply turn it over," she quickly flipped the disk in her hand and the light was extinguished  "and it's extinguished."  She smiled at the look on my face and tossed the disc into my lap.  "Really, Razzie, you are so easily amused!  It's merely trapped ether magnified and focused through the facets of a crystal.  Amateurishness, I know, but sometime I like to try my hand at the easy things," she sighed breezily.  She sat back down in her chair and leaned across to me, her playfulness dropped away and her gaze was serious.


"But Raz, this business by the wharf, are you sure you want to poke around in it?  I haven't heard much but what I have isn't good. People have been disappearing which isn't new but something happened to turn up the heat.  I heard the Runners are looking into it.  You don't want to mess with them."  She shuddered and leaned back in her chair.


That was not good news.  The Runners were the known for their tenacity and their incorruptibility.  If they were poking around this scheme I would have to tread lightly.  But it also meant that whatever was going on was big if it had grabbed their attention.  My chances for a payout were looking better and better.


I stood up and smiled at Jules.  "No worries, my dear.  I was born careful.  I promise not to blunder into the path of a seeking Runner. And with this little gem," I added, flipping the disc in the air and catching it again, "I am set to learn a little more about what has the Runners in such a bother."

When We Left For.....

My journey home was swift.  The pounding rain meant the streets were clear and the city was quiet.  As my feet lead, my mind began to ponder options.  We needed money.  Fast.  There were a few favors I could call in but was hesitant to do so.  I had worked long and hard to get my head above water.  To throw it all away and be back at zero?  The thought brought an ache to my hart.  I rounded the corner onto Rubin Street and ducked into the alley behind The Heated Stone.  If not a favor, then we could hire out.  I grimaced at the thought and mounted the stairs two at a time up to our rooms.   I hated working for someone else.  Being your own boss, that the only way to go in my mind.  My rules, my way.  I hadn't taken orders in over two years and the idea of having to cowtow to some fat bossman made me hit the door hard as I entered our apartment.

Umberto shot out of his chair when he heard me come in.  He stood there, all six feet three inches of him, shifting from foot to foot, rubbing his hands together, his face drawn in anguish.

"Where you been Raz?" he asked, his big hands reaching toward me in supplication.  I batted them away and pushed past him into the kitchen.

"Thinking Berto.  Something you know nothing about."  I banged about, setting the pot onto the stove and lighting the gas burner.  Once the flame took, I turned to face my half-brother.  Umberto was back to his rocking and hand wringing.  I felt some of my anger seep away.  It wasn't really his fault.  It was an accident.  Berto was famous for his "accidents".  Blaming him didn't get us anywhere.  It never did.  We needed a plan and that was my specialty.  Umberto must have seen something on my face because he stopped rocking and offered me a timid smile.

"You aren't still mad at me?  Are you Raz?  'Cause I'm really really sorry.  I just thought it was a box, you know?  If I had know about the money I'd of never thrown it out.  Promise Raz!  I dinnit mean nothin' by it, you know?" he stammered.

Berto had our mother's eyes: large, soft and brown.  My own were blue.  They have been called shifty, squity, and calculating.  Doe-like, they are not.  Guess I take after my dad in that area, whoever he was. We both shared our mom's brown curly hair with a steak of white right above the left ear.  That white streak was how we had found each other.  And although Umberto caused me no end of trouble, he was family.  All the family I had.  With a sigh,, I crossed over to him and patted his forearm.

"It's ok Berto, it's ok.  I know it was an accident and I'm not mad.  Not anymore, at least.  But you understand that we are in trouble now, right?  Marco will want his usual payment next week and we don't have the funds to set us right with him now.  And that's bad Umberto.  Got it?

Berto nodded his head eagerly and smiled down at me.  The kettle started to whistle so I headed back into the kitchen, talking over my shoulder.

"We have to make some cash, and fast.  The way I see it, we can call in our favors and hope we can squeeze out enough to make it for this month or we need to take a risk."  I poured hot water into my battered cup and dropped in a strainer of tea before I continued.  "We could hire ourselves out but that would take too long and I don't want to go back to that.  Not unless we have to.  So that leave, what?" I mused.

I turned back to Umberto whose brow was creased in deep concentration.  Just seeing him trying to puzzle this out made me smile.  The tip of his tongue stuck between his lips and his shoulders were hunched up almost to his ears.  I was tempted to leave him like that all night but we didn't have time.

"Jules," I stated.

Umberto's eyebrows shot up and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he quickly swallowed twice.  Then again.

"Sorry my brother, but it's the only hope we've got," I said as I grabbed my mug and took a sip.

"But, Raz," Umberto whinned, "I don't like Jules.  She makes me....." He shuddered and frowned.

"Uncomfortable?" I offered.

"Yeah, uncomforted," Umberto replied.  "Do we gotta?"

Yes, Berto, we gotta,"  I said and dumped the rest of my drink in the sink.  I grabbed my coat and headed for the door.  Umberto followed me slowly, his feet dragging reluctantly.  When we left for Jules' that night, I had no idea what lay before us.  If I did, I would have found another way, no matter how distasteful, to make our payment.  But hindsight, as they say, is clear.  That night, as we stepped into the light of the moons, we were blind to the fate that lay before us.

Write About Going Underground

I had heard rumors of the tunnels.  They supposedly criss-crossed under the city and were used to smuggle illegal gin or tussled up kids to the slaver ships.  If course, that was all they were, rumors, so I never paid them much attention.  I was busy just trying to get by.  Trade was down and my usual haunts were quickly drying up.  I probably never would have even steeped foot underground if it weren't for Umberto.

Umberto is my half brother.  He's loyal as a dog and about as smart.  Jules says I should have ditched him long ago but some last soft part of my heart won't let me.  So Umberto follows me around, always underfoot, always sorry, and always a pain.  I know he was trying to help when he managed to lose out savings.  I told myself that while I counted slowly to twenty but it didn't do much good.  I had carefully stashed every last farthing we owned into the side of this old cardboard box.  I slit it so gently, you couldn't even tell the money was in there.  It was a perfect hiding place.  So perfect, that Umberto tossed the box in an attempt to clean the place up.  So it was gone.  All of it.  All that was left was my anger and Umberto who was crying and apologizing all in the same breath.

I stormed out of our room, down the stairs, and into the alley that lead behind the building.  I was somewhere between desperate and furious and wasn't exactly aware of where I was going.  My head was in turmoil and my feet where on their own.  They lead me down to the wharf.  It was late, and the air was cool and salty.  I remember grabbing the railing and staring at my white knuckles while my mind raced looking for an answer.  I don't know how long I stood there but it must have been a while because I saw the movement out of the corner of my eye.  Just a flutter of something darker than black down below me.  I was aware of the shuffle of feet and a muttered curse.  It took me a minute to realize that what I was seeing was an abduction.  Three men had a kid bundled up in a black blanket.  One at the feet, the other the head.  The third held open a section of what looked like a stone wall.  The blanket was limp and unresistant but it was clearly a small body.  Why I stood there, motionless, I don't know.  Maybe I was in shock.  Maybe some survival instinct still functioned under my rage. But for whatever reason, I watched in silence as the three men walked up the gangplank to the moored ship before them and disappeared below deck.

Remember now, I was desperate.  Hard times call for hard choice so don't judge me just yet.  I hopped the railing and found myself in front of the immovable stone wall.  Only I knew it moved.  Carefully, my hand felt the rocks and mortar looking for the catch.  It didn't take long to find and soon the stone moved for me as well.  With the moon to my back, I peered down into the darkness.  The tunnel was crude but roomy.  The sides were dirt with some wooden support beams.  I could only see a few feet ahead and then the air turned black.  A deep, heavy black not of mystery.  This black smothered.  There was no way I was going one step further without a good torch and some back up.  Carefully, I swung the stone wall closed and padded back to my rooms for my half-brother.  Perhaps, just perhaps, our troubles could be solved tonight.