315 Far Future Ch. 25 – Living in, A Land Down Under (1/2)

Termites broke the Underspire areas up by Node Zones.

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Node Zones were areas where the Boole worked, and so our positions could be tracked, files uploaded, downloaded, and reports made. That basically meant a land-line centered open port was within range of us, i.e. a Node. We basically moved from Node to Node, updating what we were doing, seeing if we found something in between.

Reports said that Morlocks in particular loathed Nodes, and true criminals and people off the grid did, too, so Nodes were constantly being destroyed, replaced, and the parties responsible for such events shot in return. The Mekkers hated Luddites, after all.

First stop was a thousand feet down, and I'd be starting off in Scythilian territory.

The Scyth were among the easier of the mobs to work with, mostly because they acted like a mafia. Dark hair, greased, attitudes, focused on the bottom line, macho yet cunning, with completely fluid relationships with all the other gangs. They were close-lipped to outsiders, pugnacious, and always ready to fight to stake their claims. They were always willing to make a deal they benefited from, as it were, and their tentacles ran up and downspire.

They had a pragmatic attitude towards the law, revolving around leaving unnecessary stuff alone, and getting Juris out of there as quickly as they could be satisfied. Termites wouldn't get as much respect, but Termites had their own rights, and competent Termites weren't people to mess with.

I could be considered competent, I supposed...

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Stepping off the massive lift with a few hundred shift-drones off to do their jobs, I headed for the first Node station nearby, almost certain to be watched over by a Scyth or two, as the Mekkers looked poorly on those who let their tech get crunched. Posting a punk or two to make sure nobody took a sledge to key stuff wasn't that out of line.

The air down here was recycled, and smelled like other people had been breathing it. Well, I suppose all air is recycled, the carbon dioxide fed the algae vats, and oxygen was doled out back to the living zones. Don't pay or produce, they shut down the fans, cart the asphyxiated dead over to the soylent processors, and bring in a fresh batch of workers. Neat, tidy, kept work stoppages under control, and was pretty effective population control, too.

Since having to do that reflected badly on the gangs in charge, they definitely resorted to all sorts of things to keep production going and the money coming in. Likewise, their opponents weren't above making them look bad and sabotaging key facilities in a bid to take over contracts and territory. The energetic skirmishing occupied a lot of the attention of all the various mafias, which disturbed pretty much nobody else at all.

I was tracking one Milder Cogran, an experienced Termite (had to be, to be sent Underspire) who'd been investigating the work crew disappearance when he'd vanished, too. As the mafias didn't claim anything, nor resolve the disappearance, someone else had to be sent in. The Juris naturally were dragging their feet, considering it something for the mafia to take care of, and naturally didn't want to overexert themselves for a Termite, either.

Thus, it fell to the Termites to take care of their own. That's why this was on paper, as it was likely to get purged or grey-filed otherwise.

But I was getting Underspire pay, so why complain? Other than breathing that air that smelled of farts and body odor, no matter what they scrubbed it with...

I was just following the same path of Nodes, as it was the quickest way down. I'd be traversing a Scyth zone, and then the Steiners, who had the security contract for the soylent vats.

The walls were metal, there were pipes, conduits, grates, plugs, stairs, random passageways and doors, crawlspaces, flues and cables and just plain junk like that everywhere. This wasn't a place designed for human habitation, only human maintenance, but adapt as you go, and keep trucking, I guess.

There were indeed a couple punks on guard duty in the central hub that formed a five-way sideways and down with other floors coming in and out. I tracked the line of the Node up to the ceiling with the bolted case, and a couple young men standing around in the trenchcoats and glasses the Scythilians wore. They were punks, because they weren't allowed the black greaser do's that indicated the Made Men.

I kind of stood out among the Underfolk, being taller, auburn-haired, and not moving in a hunch. They watched me closely as I walked straight up to them, read my shirt, and had kind of weird expressions on their faces.

Saved time. ”Yeah, I'm a Termite. One of ours vanished chasing a posting down here, a Mekker work crew. There's been no resolution, so I was sent to follow up. You want to call ahead and let them know I'm coming through, be obliged.”

They looked me up and down brazenly, and I wasn't showing them much to be scared of. ”What's it worth to ya?” the first one immediately offered.

I laughed slightly. ”Extorting a Termite during the course of their official duties is a terminable offense by Juris ruling 21573-a, you can look that up if you like. A 100-credit bounty is automatically issued and expedited fulfilment is encouraged. So, repeat that. I can use the spare change, and someone who thinks their life is only worth a hundred credits is pretty funny.”

His underdweller-white face kind of fell, and his hand moved carefully away from the las at his hip, oriented for a cross-draw. ”No trouble, no trouble,” he offered, and waved me on. ”I'll let 'em know. Have a nice walk.”