“What is that?” I ask, as we move around it.
“It’s an energy core. The heart of Acheron. It’s what keeps the city alive,” Naomi responds, as we turn a corner and walk down another alleyway.
We enter a door on our right, walk towards the back of the establishment, and sit down at a small booth. A young woman with bright yellow hair, facial piercings, silver bracelets down one arm, and carrying a green glowing tray, asks us what we would like to drink. Jagger and Naomi both order a Cloud Tea. As I’m not sure what to have, I ask for the same.
We sit in silence, waiting for the others to join us.
The woman returns with our drinks in tin cups, steam billowing from the brims. I take a small sip of mine, enjoying the flavors of cinnamon, nutmeg, and warm milk with something else in the mixture, but I can’t quite tell what it is. I take a bigger sip and begin to feel my insides warming up, my head getting a little lighter. I’m in the process of taking another mouthful when Jagger places his hand on the top of my cup.
“You’re going to want to drink this stuff slowly,” he says, as he guides my cup back to the table’s surface. “It tastes good now, but you’ll be floating later if you drink it too fast.”
I smile at him in thanks and put down my cup.
We keep an eye on the entrance, waiting for the others to walk through. I see a couple of Regulators walk in, sit down and order drinks. Many other people in the place look run-down, and worn out. Some remind me of the occupants of the Wasteland, others look like Laics who left the Boroughs a long time ago. There are a few individuals who are finely dressed in silk suits, freshly pressed linens, and wool coats.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“This is the Underground. It’s like a waste disposal for people. Those fortunate enough to have escaped the Boroughs, or vile enough to mingle down here with those they can’t control, live down here,” Naomi replies quietly, as if she is afraid someone will overhear her.
“The Superiors and High Ruler know this place exists, but they don’t dare do anything about it since most of them come down here to have a temporary escape from their lives above the surface,” Jagger adds.
He points skyward.
“See that man over there,” he begins, pointing to an older gentleman wearing a gray silk suit and tie. “He is the Superior of Education, but the woman he is fondling is not his wife.”
The man gropes the woman’s breast, then nuzzles her neck as his other hand slides up her short skirt. She squeals with delight and the two soon part, his communicator beeping incessantly, though he pays no attention to it.
We sit there for half an hour before Quin and Cass walk in. Quin has disposed of the uniform and is wearing dark blue pants, black shirt and jacket. The two sit down with us and order Cloud Teas.
“Where’s Faber?” Naomi asks, as she finishes her drink.
“He’s not coming,” Cass says, as he begins to sip his drink as soon as the waitress sets it down.
“What do you mean he’s not coming?” Naomi’s voice rises, “where is he?”
“Dead,” I utter, before anyone can stop me.
Naomi stops and stares at me, shocked, before she bursts into tears, her body heaving uncontrollably. Cass puts his arm around her and rocks her back and forth while Jagger gives me a nasty look.
I’m shocked at my candor about the matter.
How could I just blurt something like that out? Why am I not that upset about it?
I determine it’s my detachment training kicking in. Trea responding, not Meg.
Quin leans over and whispers in my ear.
“You might have tried a little discretion. Faber was her twin brother.”
I sit quietly and drink my tea while the others try to console Naomi.
I notice that the monitors down in the Underground don’t display any of the cities emblems or news flashes, but instead show snippets of women dancing provocatively, men drinking excessively, and couples in the throes of passion. Each segment lasts five minutes before moving on to a new one. The display currently on screen is of a man lying face down on a mat, two women massaging his back with oil. The caption at the bottom reads Acheron Baths, as soft music plays and candles burn in the background.
The screen changes to a semi-dressed woman clinging to a pole, her body moving with the chaotic sounds from behind her. The woman’s long auburn hair is pulled behind her in a braid, and the harsh spotlights bounce off her dark skin. The camera changes to show a face with deep brown sad eyes, bony cheeks, and no smile.
Kedua.
“Where is that place?” I ask, pointing to the monitor. My arm jerks so fast I nearly knock Quin’s cup from his hands.
Everyone follows my hand and stares at the screen. In the bottom right hand corner the words Club Alasti flash then the scene changes again to men drinking.
“You don’t want to go there,” Cass states.
“Why not?”
“You’d have to be depraved to go there,” Jagger says, as he orders another round of Cloud Tea.
“How depraved?”
“Meg, you’re insane. First off, you’re a female so they’ll never let you in. Second, it’s strictly for the Superiors and those who work for them. Laics like us are not welcome.”
I look around at all the
