The First Penitatas - Broken Trust
#16 of The First Penitatas
Hafn awoke with a pressure on his chest and a cold, sticky dampness creeping across his left pectoral. With a groan he tried to sit up, only to find himself pinned in place by Ros. The Kyyreni boy gave a frustrated grunt and shoved his fellow Penitatas, who yelped and writhed as he was forcefully moved aside. "Thank you so much for drooling all over me!" Hafn spat as he tried his best to wipe his fur clean.
"Whassat?" Ros mumbled, still half asleep. He gave a loud yawn and stretched himself, a routine spoiled by a sharp jab to his ribs.
"I've told you before to keep to your side of the bed," the older of the two boys grumbled.
Ros gave a shrug, "I try to. I can't help it if I move about in my sleep."
The brief argument was put to rest by the arrival of a Kyyreni Nightsider, a woman with fur so dark it seemed black to the boys. "Good, you're both awake. I need you out of bed and moving; we need a full scrub down, front and back of house, and a manual stock-take needs doing. I want you both in the kitchen in five minutes or you're skipping breakfast!" mistress Ivaka announced.
It wasn't a threat idly given, and both Penitatas knew it. They hastily pulled on enough clothes to be decent and raced downstairs, earning a chastisement for it in the process. Hafn lost, but only because he'd paused to grab his token; a metal disc on a string he always wore. Danin was in the kitchen waiting for them with a breakfast prepared, and sat with his muzzle in a tablet reading news while the two youths hastily gobbled up their plates of cold meat and cereals. He was still left undisturbed when Ivaka returned with armfuls of cleaning products for the pair and ushered them into the front room to start their work.
It wasn't easy keeping the place spotless. The Sinking Light was far from disreputable, but it drew a fair share of rowdy clients and it was inevitable there'd be sticky puddles, chunks of food and other discarded leavings scattered about the place. By the early hours when the doors shut, those responsible for closing had a habit of leaving the resulting mess for morning, much to the frustration of the boys. They swept up and scrubbed down, quickly made tired by the physical nature of the chore. Worse, by Hafn's estimation was the vapours from the cleaning products, which irritated the eyes, nose and throat. The stuff stank, and even rubber gloves didn't stop the stench from seeping into his paws. On a calmer day the boys might have chatted, but Ivaka wasn't having any of it. She darted in and out, usually to check on something behind the counter or simply to make sure the Penitatas were working, and today she snapped at even the quietest of chatter.
Danin eventually came to help along with a pair of new girls, and between the five of them they got the bar and dining space ready for customers with three minutes to spare; a fact they were all scolded for. While Danin took up his place behind the bar, Hafn and Ros were ushered into the kitchen to repeat the whole ordeal; another floor to mop, but at least the cooks would do the rest for them.
"Mistress?" Hafn whined when Ivaka paused long enough that he thought he could hold her attention, "I don't feel well. Can I go back upstairs for a while?"
Ivaka scowled at the six-year-old Penitatas. Her right hand tapped her chest, and realising the meaning Hafn quickly tucked his pendant into his shirt. "What's wrong with you then?"
"I... I feel sick," Hafn replied weakly. It wasn't entirely a lie.
"Tough it out," the manager growled, "we've got soldiers and mercenaries coming home from the front, and that means big business for us tonight. You're not slacking off. Now get the floors done in here, then move on to the stock room."
As Ivaka returned to her busywork, Ros made a point of catching his comrade's eye. "Don't say anything," he warned.
"What? I wasn't going to."
"Then keep it that way. Every time you open your mouth you get in trouble," Ros chided before taking a mop and heading for the far corner to start.
Before they'd even finished mopping the voices of patrons began to drift into the kitchen, and by the decibel level alone there were plenty of them. Although he couldn't make out what was being said, Hafn could tell from the overtones they had a mixed bag today. Judging by the babbling they had some Humans present, speaking Panglish to one another, and one loud, rasping voice that was likely a Drakonian; Hafn didn't know of any other reptilians besides Drakonians and Chaldakri, but the latter spoke in a rolling moan that was completely different to the hissing tones. Then the party moved away from the bar, replaced by intermittent Ruljic speakers with varying accents. At one point he paused and cocked his ear at a strange accent, his Ruljic words delivered in a barking tone and sharp gait. He'd heard the tones in another tongue before while running errands elsewhere in Vices, but he couldn't place it. The voice that replaced it was clear, and he shivered at it. On the edge of his hearing there came a series of rapid clicks, followed by a computer-voiced translation. Ny'ee. Kyyreni fancied themselves as fierce, even those who were as tough as wet cardboard boasted about their racial prowess, but few boasted like that in the presence of a Ny'ee. The ghostly image of a three-eyed, clicking mess of wrong-shaped limbs fluttered into the Penny's imagination, and he groaned at the vividness of his own mind's eye before exorcising it with frantic scrubbing of the floor.
Before long, Hafn was collared by his owner and sent on a new errand. As was all too common in Vices, some poor soul had been caught short and relieved himself in the narrow path behind the bar, and so it fell to Hafn to hose the path down. He stowed the cleaning gear temporarily and slipped out the back door, foot first into a damp patch. Squealing in disgust and anger, he tried to avoid the puddle on the doorstep and punched the lock-code into a wall-mounted box that contained a hose and some basic cleaning gear, installed for this very purpose. "Disgusting bastards!" he spat to the world at large as he first rinsed his feet, then the door and step. What was particularly insulting was the presence of a sewer drain less than ten feet away and in clear sight from the door. But no, apparently the public pisser needed that little bit of privacy offered by a doorway rather than the grid.
Lost in his own dour mood, with curses whispered to the world on his lips, Hafn wasn't aware of the two boys in the alley until they were on top of him. A hand took his shoulder and span him round, slamming his spine into the door-frame and bringing a box-cutter up to fill his vision. Beyond the short, glinting blade was a Daysider boy in a long-sleeved grey shirt, with a similarly dressed boy behind him. "Keep your mouth shut and you won't get hurt," the armed boy growled, his green eyes brimming with cold malice with every growled word.
"Hey, back up," the other boy said urgently, "Rhyd! He's one of us!"
There was the merest flicker of motion as Rhyd's eyes went from Hafn's terrified face to his hands and back. The box-cutter retracted, slowly, much too slowly for Hafn's liking. "Penitatas?"
"Yes! I'm a Penny!" Hafn squeaked, raising his hands to show the markings clearly.
The second boy stepped forward, placing a hand on Rhyd's shoulder and pushing him a step to the side, "Sorry, we didn't know. This is Rhyd, I'm Alif. We need some help."
"We need supplies," Rhyd clarified, still no warmer to Hafn than before. "Food, drink, money. Lifters and voiders drink here, right? We could use a way to reach one willing to smuggle us off-world."
"You're on the run?" Hafn asked. The twitch of Rhyd's lip made it clear he didn't appreciate the question.
"We can't linger here," Alif cut in urgently, "can you help us or not?"
Hafn's gaze switched between the two Daysider boys before him. There was no camaraderie in Rhyd's face, but Alif struck him as the honest type. As honest as a Daysider could be, anyway. But, he thought with a pang of doubt, Lyy was a Daysider and she'd always been decent. Maybe being a Penitatas gave them all some commonality. In the end, he made up his mind; with a tap of his lip and a nod to the door, he punched in the code and slipped inside. Nobody paid him any mind as he darted into the store room, took an armful of flavoured water cartons and followed it with dried meat sticks. Almost dropping his bounty, he was back outside before the slow piston hinge had fully closed the door, and he dumped the spoils into Alif's waiting arms.
"What is this crap?" Rhyd growled, examining the offering.
"It'll be fine," Alif assured him, though his voice had no confidence. He looked back to Hafn and gave a genuine smile. "Thanks for your help. We'll be back in a day or two, can you find us a carrier by then?"
"Maybe... but I was thinking I could come with you?"
Rhyd's harsh, barked laugh and blunt, "No." killed that particular dream dead. With a flick of his head, Rhyd wordlessly beckoned his companion to follow, and pausing only to promise they'd return, Alif bolted after his companion into the narrow maze of back-alleys.
Once their foot-falls had faded, Hafn quietly put the hose away and returned indoors. Ivaka was on him almost immediately, instructing him to go wash up and change so he could work the front. He simply nodded and headed for the stairs, experiencing a confusing mix of emotions as he passed out of her line of sight; proud and satisfied at having stuck it to her by helping the runaways, but equally terrified of her discovering what he'd done. Now, he had a new task to perform; to find someone willing to take a Penny off-world.
Having Kas around turned out to be better than Skal had feared. The Medicalos boy's confidence and temperament improved daily, although his old wounds were clear to see whenever Kadan and Skal left for the Hall without him. To his credit, Kas didn't mope around at home without them; from the first day he busied himself, tidying the humble home and doing a little shopping (mostly sweets, Skal noticed). Beyond that, he began returning to the Billet, and while he wasn't clear what he did there he alluded to 'brushing up' on a few things. This seemed to satisfy Kadan, who never seemed to press the young Enforcer on anything he did.
His presence also left Skal wondering about what relationship the two had. It didn't seem right to call him a friend, but there was no animosity anymore from Kas. Indeed, he seemed to be trying, in his own way. "I've been thinking of going to Vices. Do you want to come?" he asked during one such attempt. When Skal had dismissed the idea, he shrugged it off and seemingly never went.
After a few more days, and several more vague hints of wishing to go out on the town, Kas managed to voice his desires plainly. "I want to find the Penny I sent to Black Pit. Hafn. I feel like I ought to talk to him."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Skal countered.
"I know I have a habit of getting us in trouble, but that's exactly why I want you with me. I need you there to make sure everything goes right. I just want to say I'm sorry for screwing up so badly, that's all."
Despite his misgivings, Skal agreed to go along as soon as Kadan allowed him a day off, which as it happened was easily obtained; Kas simply walked up and asked for it. He was regretting the agreement all the more once they were out on the street together, as with soldiers coming home from war and mercenaries being recalled, Vices was now full of dangerous men seeking relief from their worries, and drunk warriors are rarely peaceful warriors.
It struck him how much Vices had changed in a relatively short amount of time. Between the various riots, fires and the ongoing civil war, Vices had undergone remarkable changes, both on the surface and in its blackened underbelly. Not all of the change was bad, of course; Skal certainly didn't mourn the fact that the Doll House was exerting far less influence than it once did, but there were other vices to replace it. Outside of a fire-blackened building a pair of heavy-set Daysiders pimped a gaggle of slaves, males and females of varying species. Half their stock were Aspatrians, a fox-like creature that Skal had never laid eyes on before Haakyr's mercenary band arrived. Other Aspatrians ran errands through the streets, each of them sporting a heavy collar around their necks that looked positively medieval in its design. Skal's own collar had been abandoned, but it had been a simple, light thing that could be forgotten. He couldn't imagine that was the case for the Aspatrians.
The aliens that demanded most attention were the Drakonians. Hulking reptiles of earthy greens and browns, they did not stand upright like most sentient races, instead possessing a raptor-like body shape. Most had come from Ikara as part of the war effort, working as soldiers or in support roles for soldiers, and when off duty they seemed quite happy to go without clothing, letting their thick scales and sharp claws show to the world. It wasn't their scales or their nudity that demanded attention, but the sheer scale of them; an adult could be eight feet tall at the shoulder, utterly dwarfing the native Kyyreni. One such creature, a hulking monster with a regimental insignia burned into its flank, was engaging in a street brawl for the amusement of a crowd and the profits of a gambling ring. Skal and Kas didn't see the fight through the press, but they noted how quickly it ended, and the bloody state of the four Kyyreni males dragged clear of the circle.
They approached the Sinking Light from the opposite direction to normal, as a band had set a temporary stage up blocking most of the thoroughfare. As they passed an alley-mouth, Skal was brought to a halt by a sharp tug on his arm. He turned and saw Kas looking into the alley, directly at a Penny boy who looked positively terrified by their presence. "Hafn? Mind if we talk for a minute?" Kas asked the frozen Dawnsider.
"S-sure!" Hafn squeaked, glancing around rapidly as though he'd been caught doing something illicit.
Kas showed his palms as a way of disarming the situation, "I'm not here to cause you trouble. In fact... I wanted to apologise to you. For... you know." the Medicalos gave Skal a brief, but awkward look, wordlessly pleading or a little backup.
"It's fine," Hafn replied before Skal could come to the rescue. "I'm good. Really. Thanks for the apology though."
"Are you sure everything's alright?" Skal asked, watching how the boy shifted awkwardly in the shadow of the back door.
Hafn checked the far end of the alley as though he was seeking an escape route. He paused, chewing his lip in thought before stammering, "I just... I'm not really meant to be out here. I just needed a break and I figured nobody would see me back here."
Kas nodded in understanding, "Don't worry, I'm not going to grass you up. If you want to be left alone, we'll move on. I just... I needed you to know that I messed up with you. I really am sorry, and I... have paid for it."
"Okay, well, thank you. Means a lot," Hafn added quickly.
While it seemed to Skal that something was amiss, Kas looked relieved as he turned around and walked away. Skal followed close beside him. "Feels like a weight's been lifted," Kas confessed as they ducked and weaved through the busy streets.
"Did he seem... sketchy to you?" Skal probed.
Kas slowed a little as he considered the question. "Yeah, he did," he conceded, "but he has reason to be. Imagine you were in his place, seeing an Enforcer and a prospect walk up to you while you're somewhere you're not meant to be. Especially one who'd made you suffer. Would you be all smiles and jokes?"
"Guess not."
Kas gave his companion a playful punch in the arm and chuckled, "hey, I'm in a good mood thanks to you. Let's go treat ourselves. Pick your poison, and I'll pay the bill!"
With the Enforcers gone, Hafn could finally breathe again. They left not a moment too soon, for Rhyd and Alif emerged from the opposite direction almost straight away. Hafn gave them a smile and a wave, but his amiable greetings faded quickly when he saw the murderous glint in Rhyd's eyes. "What was that all about?" the Daysider boy growled through barred teeth.
Hafn briefly looked back towards the alley mouth. There were a few people coming and going, but no-one who cared to glance their way. "They were just following up. I had some trouble with them at the end of the year and they wanted to, you know, check in."
Rhyd slowed his advance, but did not stop altogether until he was within arm's reach, forcing Hafn back against the back door to the Sinking Light. With a slow nod he said, "Yeah, makes sense. E's are known for being real friendly with those who cross them. Why, I haven't seen one look so sorry for himself since they apologised for arresting me."
Hafn couldn't keep the tremble from his lip as he tried to explain, but he couldn't get the words out. In fact, he could barely draw breath. The boy's eyes flicked downward as Rhyd pulled the box-knife out of his gut, the blade thick with blood. Before Hafn could truly register that he'd been stabbed, Rhyd plunged the knife into him again and again, leaving him with a dozen puncture wounds to his lower body. He wanted to scream, but his lungs wouldn't work. He thumped against the door and dropped hard onto his backside, wide-eyed and fearful as Rhyd spat in his face and darted away. "H-hlp!" he managed to gasp, reaching a trembling arm towards Alif, who stood frozen over him. Then he too was gone, fleeing in terror.
There was no-one left to help him. The pain was beyond comprehension. It shut his body down, leaving him unable to do anything but clutch his wounds and wait to die. Even if he could have moved, his mind was shattered by the agony he felt; he couldn't have opened the door if his life depended on it, which it did. Wide-eyed and crying in silent terror, a shadow passed over him. His eyes slowly focused on an abomination, a monster with three arms, three legs and three eyes. Its triple-jointed limbs carried it towards him. A head of razor-like crests tilted down so all three eyes could alternate on looking at him. It spoke in a series of sharp clicks and cracks, which a chest-mounted device translated into, "you have been stabbed. I will assume our business arrangement is cancelled."
"Help me..." Hafn whimpered, almost too weak to manage even such a simple phrase.
The Ny'ee flicked its head in confusion as its translator asked, "Why? I do not gain from saving you. I may stay and watch, for I never seen a Kyyreni bleed to death."
Hafn's muzzle fell open in a wordless cry of torment, but the Ny'ee snapped its head up as though it had heard something. The creature strode forward and banged on the door hard enough to shake the frame, and then stood back. The door was opened and Hafn collapsed onto the floor, the pain of cracking his head on the floor largely irrelevant at that point. The Ny'ee stared into Danin's shocked face as only a Ny'ee could, and clicked out a message; "I found your boy. I think someone tried to murder him."
If there was one thing Kadan had learned to trust in, beyond all doubt, it was the skills of the men and women of the Free Hospitals.
He'd arrived following an urgent call to find Skal and Kas waiting for him, which relieved him of his initial fears. However, as he listened to the boys and what had played out a sick feeling crept over him. Captain Bast was relaying information in real time, perhaps recognising the significance a Penny-on-Penny assault of this magnitude meant for the Correctors. The boy was in surgery, and there was a strong risk he might lose one of his livers, but the staff seemed confident he was going to live.
That left dealing with the aftermath; security footage had to be reviewed, witnesses questioned and any on-site evidence gathered. Much as he hated to admit it, that last part was a weakness of the Guild. The primary suspect was a Ny'ee, one whose questioning Kadan suffered through only because it would have reflected badly on the Enforcers to let him... her... it walk away without so much as a challenge.
"I was asked to meet the boy behind the establishment," the Ny'ee explained through its speech-device. It's name was an unpronounceable mess of sounds that the device couldn't translate, and it had refused to give an alternative title. "He had a business opportunity he wished to discuss."
"Did it not strike you as strange he wanted to do that in an alleyway?"
"No. Everything you Kyyreni do is strange." The creature replied. The translator delivered everything in the same flat modulation, which by accident or design gave the creature a slight mocking tone. As to the words actually being said, Kadan hadn't a prayer of deciphering intent from the rapid clacking. He also suspected some of its sounds might have been outside of his range of hearing.
"So you met him in the alley and found him injured. Why did you just stand there?" Kadan asked, offering a datapad showing a static image of the event.
The Ny'ee didn't hesitate to reply, but for whatever reason the translator lagged behind more than usual. "I was considering the variables of the situation. To involve myself or not both carried elements of risk - danger of injury, danger of false accusation, danger of inadvertent legal or social taboo. I calculated that inaction held greatest risk to myself, and thus I acted."
Kadan frowned at the aberration sat opposite him. "You thought you would be arrested for helping an injured child?"
"Yes. On a civilised world property rights are taken seriously, and the child was property. Interference with property carries the possibility of death."
"This is a civilised world," Kadan growled in reply.
"That is an incorrect assessment. I wish to leave now."
As much as he wanted to hold the freakish creature, he knew nothing good would come of it. He returned to his desk and pored over the security footage given to him by the establishment's owner. The assault itself was easy to find, but Kadan has his young assistants skim through several days of prior material just in case. It was Emyl who found what they were after; the Daysiders made contact with Hafn once before, and he gave them goods from the kitchens. "Who do you belong to?" Kadan asked the stilled image. The angle was poor for a facial recognition system to run a trace, but surely someone would have reported them missing by now?
"Kas to Captain Kadan," his communicator chirruped. He'd left it open on a channel to the boys just in case. "Hafn's awake. He's in real bad shape, but he told us something that might be useful."
"You are on leave!" Kadan growled in a low, feral tone. From the other end of the link, he was sure he heard a trembling intake of breath.
"He gave us the name 'Rhyd'. Boy has green eyes. That's the one with the weapon, the other is called 'Alif'. That's got to be enough to go on, right?"
Kadan, despite his anger at the boy's defiance, keyed the names into a search. "Got it. I'm going to go have a word with their owner, and you are going home!"
There was a pause that was too deliberate to be anything but defiance. "Sir, please let me help. This is street work now, the work I live for. I can handle a Penny. Please?"
Kadan glanced up at the wall with the duty roster, and the shocking lack of manpower stared back at him. "Fine, this once and that's it. Don't push your luck again."
He cursed internally, turning his eyes to the two young Correctors working away at desks nearby. Torn and... Emyl. He kept forgetting her name. The Enforcers were a segregated Guild in all but name. Men worked the streets, manned the prisons, oversaw the executions; women handled accounts, admin and maintenance duties. You saw the other sex around, but you rarely had any involvement with them. He'd rarely paid them any mind, and he assumed the same was true in reverse. He shook the thought away just as a notification appeared on his desk monitor; a summons from Noble Tavik. "Emyl? I need you to drop whatever you're doing and get on this Daysider issue. Specifically, I need you to run the narrative. Find out how much information is in public domain and - no, first I want you to get on the Broadcast Guild and make it clear that if anything about this story comes out from them I will call a fucking Red Wall down on them. Then tell me what's public knowledge. Can you do that?"
The young woman saluted nervously, "Yes sir, I can handle that."
Kadan accepted the confirmation with a nod as he rose from his desk. He took a moment to study the woman's anxious face, and as he glanced across he saw a similar concern in Torn's features. "I know this is all more than you signed on for. I know I've dropped you in the deep end with no warning and less help, and now I'm piling more shit on your shoulders. Welcome to the Guild. This is what all the training was about, all the physical and mental tests, all the drills and the sleepless days and nights. Not everyone's cut out for this, but if you can hold your head and push through, if you can take everything I'm asking of you and do it, I guarantee you'll make Captain, or Head of Section, or whatever it is you're gunning for. Now go get me a fucking miracle."
He turned for the door, dreading whatever shit the Noble was about to rain down on him. As such, he didn't see the fierce pride in the eyes of his young charges, nor how they flung themselves into their work the moment he was gone.
Hunting was something every Kyyreni loved. Even if they didn't know it, there was a primal, feral part of them that found pleasure in the chase, and the sweet release of its end. It didn't matter if they were ancient pack-hunters chasing down lanras, or modern Kyyreni hunting fugitives; the animal inside didn't see any difference.
Even so, Skal was nervous. He said as much as he and Kas made their way back to Vices, and it gnawed at him even though Kas repeatedly insisted they had Kadan's blessing to be part of the hunt. They didn't go straight back either. Kas took them out of the hospital via a small precinct on the edge of the grounds, essentially a holding cell for anyone who needed to cool off from a night out, but also needed urgent attention. There was an armoury on site, and Kas argued, pulled rank and likely bluffed his way through a back-and-forth with the Dawnsider female in charge of requisitions until she handed over a shock baton and a pair of cuffs. "You just hang back, let me do the rough stuff," he told Skal as they finally went on their way.
As they reached Vices, Kas raised the question of where to start, coaxing Skal to answer. The two boys had experiences from the opposite sides of the law, but it was clear there was a convergence of thought. Rhyd and Alif couldn't stay in the open, and so it was a question of where they would go to ground. "Maybe they went to the Daysiders?" Skal offered.
Kas shook his head, "No, I don't buy that. Haakyr's a crazy bastard, and I don't think he likes outsiders much. He doesn't even send his men on errands. Gets his slaves to do it. I wonder, how desperate would they have to be to ask Lady Sin for help?"
Skal shuddered at the thought, "No Penny would be that desperate."
"Right," Kas scratched his chin in thought as he surveyed the streets. It was busy, but a peaceful busy, and children were few and far between. "Underway? Got to be, right? There's an access not far from the Sinking Light, and there's less chance of being caught down there."
"They'll aim for the inner districts," Skal added, pointing West. "There's a lot more excavation and expansion closer to the City centre, which means more places to hide or lose a tracker."
Kas' lips split into a gleeful grin. He gave Skal an encouraging tap on the shoulder and flicked his muzzle westward. "Come on, there should be an entryway somewhere around here. Let's see if you're right."
The way down was built into a thick concrete support strut. The door had been tagged with a gang-sign, but the lock was solid and unbroken. It wasn't easy for Kas to reach the keypad, but they were soon inside and winding down the claustrophobic stairwell into a cold, dim corridor. The floor, ceiling and north wall were all bare concrete, while the south wall was covered in pipes and cables of varying thicknesses. To thermal sense they were a mix of muted blues, with abyssal purple grilles just above head height every fifty metres or so. "Why'd they have to keep this place so bloody chilled?" Kas mumbled as they got their bearings and headed West.
Mercifully, the cooled corridor soon gave way. They walked down a perilously steep flight of steps to cut out a long switchback ramp, passed a doorway that had been concreted over and came to a heavy set of double doors. Once again, Enforcer access codes got them though, although Kas pointed out that the air vent in the right-hand door was missing. "A child could crawl through there."
In the warmer, busier sections, they were forced to pick a path largely at random. The Underway was extensive, but especially near Vices it was a nightmare to navigate. This was one of the oldest parts of the construction, and there had always been plans to expand. Those plans were aborted as often as finished. Spiraling costs, changes in priority, new regulations; these and a hundred other motives resulted in passages to nowhere and equipment fallen into disrepair. Their first route took them into a section with walls covered in gang-signs, and they swiftly retreated rather than confirm if they were still in use. The second route had tyre marks all across the floor. This too they rejected, deciding that two fugitives wouldn't pick a path that clearly saw a lot of use.
It was as they rounded a corner onto their third choice that Rhyd ambushed them.
He lunged out of the shadows at Kas, knife glinting in the harsh light of the ceiling strips. Kas acted on instinct, stepping into the strike rather than flinching away. That likely saved his life, for the knife rasped across the fabric of his uniform at kidney height. By the time Skal had realised they were being attacked, Kas had grabbed Rhyd's arm and was jabbing madly with the shock baton. He rushed forward only to crash into Alif coming the other way. The two boys wrestled, grabbing each other's shirts and swinging their weight around to try and overbalance their opponent. Skal roared in anger as he flung Alif hard, but the Daysider managed to keep enough balance to cause them both to go staggering sideways. Then he flicked his tail out, planted a leg and heaved Skal over. The boy's head cracked loudly on a metal pipe and he dropped to the ground.
Meanwhile, Kas had quickly found the upper hand. A jab to the throat had bought him the space he needed to hook Rhyd's feet out, and though the Daysider stabbed and bit with all his strength, a shock-baton pressed firmly into his spine put an end to any thought of further struggle. Gasping in pain from the cuts and bites he'd suffered, Kas nevertheless suppressed and secured his target as expertly as he would have as an adult. Only then did he look back over to Skal to see him sat on his backside, dabbing at his head and checking the fingertips for blood. "You alright?" Kas called.
Skal nodded. His third check had come back clean once again, but his head was still throbbing unbearably. He went to stand, using the wall for support, and only then realised the absence of a familiar weight. He began pawing his chest frantically, then desperately searching the ground where he'd been sat. "My ring! My mum's ring! Oh Gods!"
"Calm down, it's got to be here somewhere," Kas replied, but Skal was already looking toward the passageway that Alif had bolted down. "Skal, don't go after him! I need you to stay here!"
Skal didn't hear him. He was already running. Kas swore loudly as he turned his attention back to Rhyd, dragging the wayward Penny to his feet and marching back the way they'd come initially. "Don't worry about your friend, we'll have you back together in the cells soon enough," he growled as they walked.
"Oh I'm not worried, you're taking me back through friendly territory," Rhyd answered with a cruel smile. "All I have to do is yell and you'll have plenty more gangers to scrap with."
"Bullshit!" Kas spat, but his eyes flicked into every shadow of the corridor as they walked.
"Listen, why don't you do the smart thing and go after your friend? Alif's not one of us. Nobody's going to skin you alive over him." He let the words hang in the air, noting Kas' pace falter just a little. After a few moments indecision, he jammed the shock-baton into Rhyd's side.
"Let's see who comes when you scream then!" he spat, but as he withdrew the baton his ears twitched at a faint tapping sound ahead. Footsteps? It was too difficult to be sure... he spat on the prone boy, swore a curse and bolted after Skal, leaving Rhyd to his fate.
The Daysider scrambled upright, struggling due to the lingering ache of the shock and the physical impairment of having his paws cuffed behind him. He rolled his shoulders to try and get his shirt to sit more comfortably before turning his focus to his unexpected saviour. His bluff had worked for now, but he would still have to deal with whoever found him. As the soft, clacking sound of claws on concrete drew closer, Rhyd became increasingly uneasy. The rhythm was wrong for a start, and the sound was unusual in other ways. It wasn't until he saw the stranger he understood why; he was tall and thin, with leathery flesh, six limbs and a bladed head sporting three mad, swiveling eyes.
The Ny'ee clicked eagerly, and the voice box on its chest said, "I have found you. Let us talk business."
Skal burst through the door and almost crashed into a pair of Dawnsider women. He jinked around them and followed the echo of a slamming door to his left, limbs pumping as he ran as fast as he could manage. Alif had a considerable head start, but Skal refused to give up. The price of failure was far too high.
He thundered round a corner, footpaws slipping on the slick, waxy floor and causing him to rebound off the wall. Ahead of him were a set of double doors, and like the ones from earlier there was a child-sized vent towards the bottom. Alif was crouched by the opening, pry-bar in hand, and he scurried through as Skal found purchase and lunged after him. The desperate boy was half-way through the gap when he realised Alif could be waiting in ambush, and a sudden surge of terror filled him at the idea. But there was no pry-bar to greet him. Instead, Alif had gone, his backpack open and discarded, the potential weapon clattering to a halt nearby.
The chase took them through a lightless corridor, with the way forward only visible thanks to the amber haze of thermal waste from machinery and electronics. Both boys bumped and scraped against the irregular obstacles, and Alif was getting the worst of it by far. Every knock, stumble and hesitation bought Skal precious inches, until the prospective Enforcer's outstretched claws could brush the fabric of Alif's shirt...
A stairwell ambushed them. It was only two or three steps, but the sudden drop caused both boys to cry out in alarm. Alif recovered well, staggering but keeping upright. Already overbalanced, Skal was far less fortunate. He slammed hard into the ground, a searing jolt of hot agony coursed through his right side, burning from shoulder to tail. For a long, terrible moment he dared not to move, taking stock of what he might have damaged. A tooth was loose, but he was sure it had been loose already; his tail throbbed when he twitched it, but there were no sharp stabbings of a break or sprain; his right arm was aflame and utterly numb from the elbow down. Shivering from the adrenaline surge, Skal forced himself to stand and wipe the tears from his muzzle. He expected Alif to be long gone, but his heat vision painted a Kyyreni-shaped mass of warmth ahead, crouched not twenty paces further on.
"Stay back!" Alif warned, and as Skal wiped away his tears he saw why. Squatting in a pool of light within a cross-junction, Alif had the lifering between thumb and index finger, holding it menacingly over a drainage slat.
Skal raised his hands in surrender, "I only chased you because you took my mum's ring. That's all I want. Please, just give it back."
He saw the fear and doubt play across Alifs face. Skal realised that he was in the shadows, and that the Daysider Penny, having evolved to survive in a place where the sun never set was likely unable to see him with light-vision. With hands still raised, Skal crept forward pace by pace, bringing his footpaws together after each step until the frightened boy snapped at him, "that's far enough!"
"That ring is all I have of my mother," Skal replied, staying put as he slowly, carefully reached out his paw towards Alif. "I know you're not cruel enough to throw it away. You could have hurt me earlier, even killed me, but you didn't. You just want to escape, and I just want my ring back. Please."
Alif cautiously brought the ring back to his chest. He rose awkwardly, tip-toeing forwards as though he expected Skal to lunge at any moment. "I want you to swear you won't chase me. Swear an Oath to me, Skal the Reborn."
Skal paused, studying the timid posture of the Daysider. He realised by the lay of the boy's neck fur that there was a chord around his neck, and a slight bulge at the chest beneath his shirt. "You have one of those discs?"
"Swear to me!" Alif spat, driven to desperation by the emotions bubbling inside of him.
Skal's ears twitched. From somewhere behind, he swore he heard Kas calling his name. "If that's what you want, then so be it. I swear an Oath to the Gods and all my ancestors that if you give me back the ring and run, I will not chase you... but I don't think you should run. If you do, the Guild will keep on chasing you. I can't stop them doing that, and I don't want to think about what they'll do to you when they catch you. Alif, I know it sounds crazy, but your only chance is to come back with me."
Alif's grip on the lifering tightened, "I won't! I know what they'll do to me for running away!"
"No you don't, and nor do I," Skal countered, his heart pounding as he plunged on blindly into a role he'd never asked for, "but I have faced the Guild before and won. I earned my fair treatment, and I have saved Penitatas from Lady Sin and the Black Pit. I don't know if I can save you, but I promise I do everything I can to make sure you're treated fairly. You'll get to tell your side of this, which is more than you'll get if you go it alone."
For a long time Alif stayed silent, save to blub and whimper. It was heartbreaking to watch the boy's world come crashing down around him, to see in his face a look of such loss and hopelessness that crying was his only course. It was especially painful because Skal knew that feeling all too well. It was only when Kas' voice began to echo clearly through the underway that Alif was snapped from his despair.
"It's now or never," Skal told him gently, "run away and face them alone, or trust in me and face them together."
Alif's trembling paw met Skal's, and when they broke away the lifering was back in its owner's hand. "I h-hope you're a-as good as the s-s-stories," Alif sniffled with a forced smile.
"I hope so too," Skal answered him.
Alif had been in the cell for hours, fretting about his fate. He hadn't seen Skal since they returned, and the Enforcer Captain was seething with rage upon learning that his Medicalos had been injured trying to apprehend Rhyd. He was stripped of his possessions, put into a paper-thin set of clothes and tossed into the dark cage to wait. There was another Penitatas there already, but they barely said two words to each other before an Enforcer slammed on the cage bars and roared, "no talking!" and so he stayed silent. His only reprieve from that came when he was briefly interrogated through the cell bars, and after explaining his reasons for running away and making it clear he had nothing to do with Rhyd's actions, he was again left to wait.
Time dragged in the cell. He might have slept, or perhaps he tricked himself into thinking he'd slept. The cells were lit, which was unusual from what he knew of Enforcer jails, but Alif had always slept poorly in the dark even as an adult. Roused from whatever state he was in by a man calling his name, Alif turned to see the Captain stood outside the cage beside his overweight master, and the Daysider gave a soft whimper of fear at the side of the man's snarling muzzle.
"Well that reaction tells me he's yours," Kadan said. His tone was outwardly calm, but there was an edge to it that Alif picked up on immediately; someone's hide was on the line. "What was he doing running around in the underway?"
"I sent him on an errand," the portly Kyyreni replied dismissively, "little bastard must have run away."
"So that's why he wasn't reported missing? Because you thought he was taking his sweet time?" Alif's master shrugged in reply. "What about the other boy? He's not at your farm, so is he out running errands as well?"
"Rhyd? Yes, yes I think so. He's probably back by now."
Kadan nodded slowly, and those prisoners with well-honed survival instincts all began to quietly move towards the back of their cages. "So given that Rhyd is not AWOL by your own admission, I'm going to assume you intended for him to go around stabbing children."
"What!? You can't be serious?"
"Oh I am deadly serious. You stood there and you lied to me through your fat face! You knew these boys had run away and you never bothered to tell anyone! That's all the reason I need to make you an accessory to their crimes!"
"Now see here-" the master said, and he never got to the end of his protest. Kadan's fist connected struck him squarely in the nose with a sharp crack, and as the portly Dawnsider stumbled backward he found his feet swept from under him. Once he was down, there was no hope for him. Kadan laid into him with his steel-toed boots until the man was bloodied and unconscious.
"Nobody tells me to 'see here' in my own fucking precinct," Kadan growled. With a flick of his fingers he summoned over the Enforcer in charge of the cells, who hesitated slightly before complying. "Let's drag this bastard to an interrogation cell. I have a great many questions for him."
With the theatrics over, the cells fell silent once more. Eventually, a basic meal was provided, but this was the only reprieve from the long monotony. This time, Alif definitely slept, only to be roused again by Kadan's return. The officer had Skal and a second Enforcer with him, as well as a Nightsider in his late thirties. "Are you the runaway?" the Nightsider asked.
Alif nodded. The black-furred Kyyreni beckoned him forward, and Alif came toward the bars with his tail clutched anxiously in his paws. "My name is Udum. I am to be your new master."
"Y-yes sir," Alif answered him, unable to keep his voice from shaking.
To his surprise, Udum knelt down to meet his shy gaze. "You look utterly miserable. I think we need to pay a visit to the public baths and get you scrubbed, then perhaps we'll put some real food in your belly. Sound good?"
Alif's ears twitched upright at the prospect. He nodded again, this time with more confidence. Udum smiled at his reaction. "Excellent. We'll be also be picking up some implements of discipline, paddles and the like. You can't say you haven't earned that much."
His brief joy lost at the prospect of corporal punishment, Alif was ushered out of the cell by the Enforcers and unceremoniously stripped of his disposable garments. "One thing left to do before you leave," the lower-ranked Enforcer said as he stepped forward and took Alif by the shoulder. Before the Penny realised what was happening a needle-gun was pressed into the soft flesh near his collar bone and discharged. The Penitatas yelped in pain at the act and pulled away, but the Enforcer kept his grip as a scanner wand was swept over the injection point. Only when the device beeped positive was he handed over to his new owner.
"The boy's tag code," Kadan said as he handed Udum a small card. "If he goes missing again, I expect you to contact us."
Udum took the card without so much as glancing at it. "I assure you that under my instruction, Alif will have no desire to run away." the words were delivered in a kindly tone, but in his hurt, violated state Alif failed to pick up on that. He shot Skal a final, betrayed glance before being steered away to his new fate.
Kadan gave Skal a pat on the back of the head, "that's one down. Let's go find the other."
Hafn was glad to be home. Hospitals were a nice place to visit, but staying there for any length of time took a toll. He didn't realise how much he missed his own bed, even if he had to share it with Ros. He was surprised by the welcome; the staff of the Sinking Light all made a point to greet him and wish him well as he was slowly, carefully led by the hand up to his bedroom.
"The doctors told me you need a lot of bed rest," Ivaka told Hafn as she tucked him in. "You're going to spend the next week in bed, no arguments. Once you've healed up a bit I'll find you some light chores to do. But let me make this clear; it might take months for you to be fully healed, so you are going to take things slow until I say otherwise. No running around, no being rambunctious, no silliness. Understand?"
"Yes ma'am," Hafn replied. She needn't have given the warning; the walk up the stairs had been enough to leave him exhausted and aching.
"Good. I know you're already sick of being stabbed, but doctor's orders." With that she took a small needle and pricked the boy close to his stomach. Hafn yelped more than the sting strictly deserved, but his mistress didn't pass comment. "One of those a day for a fortnight, I'm afraid. Now, there's one other thing we need to talk about."
Hafn gave a sharp intake of breath, wishing to make his case before Ivaka said anything more. "I'm sorry! I know I screwed up real bad! I was stupid, and I wasn't thinking, and I... I don't even know why I did what I did!"
Ivaka gave a quiet chuckle in response, "Hafn, as far as I'm concerned getting stabbed is more than punishment enough for your latest act of idiocy. I'm talking about the Correctors wanting to implant you with a tracker. I haven't decided whether to agree to it or not."
"I promise I'll be good!" Hafn whined in reply.
"But you've made that promise before," Ivaka said with a hint of disappointment. With a shrug and a sigh she stood up and dimmed the lights of the room. "Get some sleep, I'll bring your dinner up later."
It wasn't dinner that she brought him, but Lyy. Dressed in red silk and equal parts excited and frightened at the sight of him, the Daysider girl hovered awkwardly at Ivaka's side as Hafn woke from his nap.
"The last thing we need is for you to be sulking up here alone all week. Gods know what stupid ideas will fill your head." His mistress gave a smirk as she tapped Lyy's back to usher her forwards. In her free hand she held a small rucksack, which she placed on the edge of the bed. "A few books, toys and a pad to watch broadcasts, if that takes your fancy. I'll send Ros up in an hour and the three of you can work out sleeping arrangements."
"Sleeping?" Hafn asked.
"I'm staying over for a few nights," Lyy explained as Ivaka left the room, "She said you'd need friends around."
The girl reached over and gave as tight a hug as she dared, keeping her body well away from Hafn's abdomen for fear of putting any pressure on his injuries. "You don't need to pull your hips away like that," he assured her.
The Daysider gave a playful giggle, "aww, you want my hips a little closer, do you?" Hafn's blush made her chuckle all the more.
Red faced and with nothing else to lose, Hafn took the plunge. "I... I really like you, Lyy. I want you to be my girlfriend."
The Penny girl bit her lip shyly, and that simple act was enough to break Hafn's heart. "Your mistress made it clear we're not supposed to... you know."
The words were almost enough to bring Hafn to tears, and perhaps seeing his pain Lyy knelt in to gently kiss his muzzle, "I'm not saying 'no'. Let's just wait until you're on Ivaka's good side before asking permission, yeah?"
"Yeah," Hafn answered. He'd never felt more determined to win his mistress' favour.
The Ny'ee took Rhyd to a small storage barn in the north-east of the City. It seemed too obvious a place to lay low, given it was the most direct route to the landing fields out in the wilderness, but the Ny'ee assured him in the calm, emotionless tones of its voice-device that there was no reason to be concerned. Inside the barn, the creature guided the Penitatas to a container that seemed no different to any other and carefully unlocked the access hatch. Inside was a metal sphere suspended in a box frame, and the Ny'ee tapped a code into its control panel as he explained its function. "This is a hatchling pod. Eggs or early-life offspring are kept inside for transport. Temperature and humidity can be set manually, air and waste filtration is automatic, and nutrient dispensers will sustain you for as long as one month if required. Inside this device, you can easily be taken past any security checkpoint and brought aboard a Ny'ee ship."
"I'm not going to be in there a month, am I?" Rhyd asked anxiously. He would have to curl up to fit inside the sphere, and there would be almost no room to move at all.
The Ny'ee did not answer. Instead, it produced a medical kit from the back of the storage unit and began to rummage through the contents. "Anxiety and claustrophobia are anticipated, so I shall sedate you."
"You're not pumping me full of drugs!" Rhyd protested, but the Ny'ee did not seem to care.
"This was not a request," the creature stated as it hauled Rhyd into the air with two of its arms and jabbed a syringe into his neck with the third. The Daysider gave a cry of surprise that quickly devolved into a whimper as the drugs took hold. Now limp and helpless, but still lucid enough to be aware of his surroundings, Rhyd was stripped and folded into the lower half of the sphere. Various tubed were harnessed to his lower body, his arms and legs were bound tightly to the inner rim of the sphere, and a cannula was fitted to each arm. Finally, a tight hood was pulled across his muzzle that forced a tube into his throat and two others into his nostrils. He could barely so much as grunt in protest at the treatment.
"You are now secure," the Ny'ee announced. "I have been informed that it is unlikely you have the off-world contacts you claim to possess, and so I have instead decided to turn you in to the Enforcers for a bounty. My knowledge of your legal system suggests that the longer you remain at large, the greater the reward for your eventual capture. Given your societal predisposition towards torturing of criminals, I anticipate they will be tolerant of my withholding of you. Or perhaps not. Regardless, the unit will keep you alive for at least a month while I consider my options."
Rhyd screamed as the upper half of the sphere closed over him. The Ny'ee stood and listened to the silence, and satisfied that no-one would hear the boy's pleas, he calmly closed up his container and went in search of something else to do.