The stretch limo cruised down a
frosty winter street. In the plush back seat shadows from
denuded maple trees raced like skeletal hands over Arthur's
reddened cheeks. As they pulled into a drive-in donut joint, he
glanced out the smoke-tinted window. High clouds like gray ice,
flowing in a river of cold morning light; it looked like the
towers of mega-Toronto were drifting north on an iceberg. It was
a scene as big and empty as the skeleton of a dinosaur. It made
him think of civilization here as a lonely island - even the
biggest scraper was nothing more than a cube that would freeze
over and collapse under the weight of north winds and time.
The empty feeling didn't bother him;
he wished it was more than illusion, but it was illusion because
soon the streets would be bustling, and the vermin would be
everywhere. They would come from all directions; it was like
every shadow and every puddle in every seedy back alley gave
birth to human rubbish at 8:00 a.m. sharp every day. Greedy
people, unemployed people that wanted more, but they didn't want
to show up for their city work assignments or do anything other
than protest, beg and complain. Though they cried for handouts
and a return to the welfare state, they always had drug or red
light district money to blow at the video lottery terminals and
gaming booths. Most of all they didn't want to pay the new food
bank taxes or for anything at all. He could hear their
multi-racial shouting in the back of his mind like the howling
of an ill wind.
Street activists, some of the
brighter ones called themselves that - he remembered reading an
article by old Jack Thompson decades ago, back when they created
the megacity through the amalgamation of six smaller cities. He
wrote it in a serious tone, “You eliminate community government
and local politicians, and what you'll get in the end is core
decay, frightened citizens and an army of homeless people and
criminals.”
Things were like that now because
all crime was on the rise. There were fewer communities and
community leaders, and almost no community activities. Community
ingenuity had declined to nothing. The new story was urban
decay. And there were fees for everything and housing prices and
rents no one could pay. Welfare and all social services had been
drastically reduced due to budget woes and a financial crisis.
It all led to urban desperation, kids with gang leaders as role
models and city government that was run like an occupying army,
spending most of its energy and borrowed money on police to
coerce the mob and keep it under control.
“Ah, too late to worry about that
now,” Arthur thought as he watched his chauffeur return with a
mug and muffin. He took a bite and swallowed a sip of steaming
coffee, and as they pulled away, he spotted a gang of derelicts
coming up out of a rubbish-papered alleyway. His stomach growled
and his ulcer bit at him so hard he jumped in his cushioned
seat. Damn, he was supposed to be the strong, and the wino bums
were supposed to get the ulcers. He was the mayor of
super-Toronto, king of the beasts. Only it felt like the beast
was in his stomach, gnawing at him. The strong, “bah,” he spat
out a piece of muffin and his face reddened as he smoothed his
hair over his bald spot. The strong were people who could
survive in that private sector slum out there -- that
developers' paradise of homelessness, hunger, and unemployment.
Survive and keep their health and their sanity.
There weren't many true survivors.
Most people were damaged goods. It was really about privilege.
He had it; these days there were the privileged and the
underprivileged. The underprivileged had strength of a sort, but
again it was more like that ulcer of his. Democracy used to be a
do-good spirit of policy rising from the voters. But now there
was little democracy and many power plays. The people used
protest and riots as a club - the do-good spirit had been
replaced by the ulcer. The roaring beast in their bellies that
made them move, holler, and not think too much. And in some ways
that was good because if you did too much thinking about
democracy in the megacity, you'd probably succumb to the urge
and just throw up.
A pallid sun peeked out of the
clouds, creating an icy gold gleam on the windows of the ebony
government tower they were approaching. The place looked as hard
as a giant diamond, and it got him back to thinking about greed.
The Fathers of Confederation had formed Canada because they
wanted to build a great democracy. Their motives had been fairly
pure, but the megacity reeked of greed, and it was appropriate
because it was created to save money and make money. Less
democracy, less bills; fewer local politicians and less
regulation meant big developers, big government and business
could forge ahead unopposed. Forge ahead and make big bucks by
privatizing services and pushing through mega-projects. The One
Big Toronto wasn't a democratic thing; no one wanted it or voted
for it - it was created with the stroke of a provincial
government pen . . . they put through a bill granting fascist
powers to themselves and went ahead with the megacity. So if its
people were greedy and spent all their time crying for money to
throw at video gambling machines, they were really into the
spirit of the city. Making a fast buck at the expense of decency
and democracy was really the founding idea of it.
“Money, damn it all,” Arthur
muttered as the limo turned down Lastman Boulevard. He hated
money and because he hated it, he’d been elected. His opponents
had gone down in corruption and scandals; every last one of
them. What he wanted was power, and power was what he could
never gain because he was the elected mayor. Real power was now
in the hands of the City Clerk, a provincially appointed
official that acted as the real mayor while Arthur was little
more than a stooge. Sometimes just the thought of it made him
cry; he'd reach out, tears in his eyes, grasping at the air, at
the power he could never grip. In the night in his dreams he
cursed the provincial government and former premier Hatchet
Hardin - cursed them for that black day in Hardin’s second term
when he’d declared a budget emergency and transferred the powers
of Megacity Council to the appointed City Clerk.
Ahead, the gold uniforms of his
paramilitary police showed amid a sea of protester denim, but
Arthur didn't get to see much because the city police edged
their rubber-bumpered vehicles off the curb and plowed ahead of
the crawling limo. More city police, community foot patrols
dressed in green khaki came up past the limo and the officers
used yellow-painted metal sawhorses to widen the wake of the
machines and keep a path cleared for the mayor's limo.
Arthur could see some of the people
now, and he grinned. It was a crowd of protesting tenants today
- a milk-toast crowd in comparison to some of the mobs he faced.
Probably the most ridiculous thing about it was that they
thought he could somehow aid them in their plight, or fight for
rights . . . and aid them he couldn't because the City Clerk
would never put a signature on any plan for tenant rights.
Sighing, he clicked his pocket
organizer, and it rang immediately. It was Merv, the City Clerk.
Shouting penetrated his supposedly soundproof window. “Speak up,
Merv. I can't hear.” Merv was saying something about a press
scrum. Fists beat at the window. He saw a face distort to
hideous rubber as it pressed against the glass, then he heard
the crunch of a Billy club and screaming as the tasered
protester went stumbling back from the car. The guy had
expensive glasses and a fringe of long hair. Probably a
communist professor, Arthur thought as he watched him fall
screaming on a heap of razor wire. Powering down the window, he
threw the remains of his coffee and muffin at the guy. Then he
sealed it and grinned - now that's power, he thought. And with
all the impotence he experienced day to day, getting the odd
shot in at a protester was tops. Merv's voice hollered from the
phone in his lap and his grin vanished. “No scrum today, Merv,”
he said, and then he hung up.
Arthur's heels clicked down a
polished marble hallway. He glanced wistfully at the vaulted
ceiling. This was a place big enough to be a train station, and
in spite of the public galleries, it was nearly always empty. To
get to it you had to cut through five levels of security. At the
end of the hall, broad oak doors led into another room, which
had once been a library. Arthur used his card and entered a
paneled area. This was the office of the City Clerk.
Merv Harndin was waiting, sitting
with folded hands at his massive desk. With light streaming in
from a huge arched window behind him, he looked positively tiny.
A couple of Merv's brown-suited trustees were also at the desk.
They had pinched faces, and Arthur understood that to mean Merv
was pissed off.
Leaving his desk, Merv walked around
and up to Arthur. His plump build and inward-pointing toes
killed the effect of his serious expression. The fact that he
walked as silently as an undertaker was scary. “So you're
hanging up on me, again,” he said.
Arthur wasn't afraid to look Merv in
the eye, but Merv's pigeon toes and pointy shoes always drew his
eyes downward. He always had the feeling Merv was about to kick
him in the shin. Merv's nasty expression was killed by his cute
curly hair, but it gained psychological effect from the fact
that he was empowered by the premier, and technically was
Arthur's boss. “I got the message, something about a scrum. I
told you before, I can't hear while I'm pressing the flesh out
front.”
“I didn't say anything about a
scrum. I was talking about my vacation. I'll be gone for a
month. Florida Keys. Sit down and I'll brief you.”
Merv's advisors stood as they sat
down. “So you were pressing the flesh out front. What's the
issue of the day?”
“Tenant Rights. Most tenants in the
core are homeless or squatters, as you probably know. Say, Merv.
I've been thinking. How about putting together an eviction
rights package. Something I could use in the next election.”
“Merv turned to the thinner of his
two assistants. He was a very nervous man with bony hands that
trembled. “What is our position on tenant rights? Are we allowed
to dispense any?”
“Hum, I would say the problem is the
provincial government’s Tenant Review Bill. What we have there
is the skeleton of the original Landlord and Tenant Act, which
is 425 pages outlining tenant rights, plus 8,750 pages of new
conservative amendments to it in the omnibus bill, and these
amendments limit those rights. It would take about a week to
read it through. The main thing tenant protesters want is the
reinstatement of courts to handle eviction cases. If we could
convince the premier to allocate spending, which is doubtful,
there is still the problem of amending the amendments. It could
be mentioned in as many as 500 different places that tenants
have no right to fight an eviction. So if we don't correct them
all the first case will fail in court.”
“Well, I guess that's something
long-term you can work on for the next election,” Merv said.
“Now, about my vacation. My assistants aren't fully qualified so
you’ll be signing all documents on your own authority - acting
as mayor and clerk. The premier's office will help you with
information on what you might want to sign and what you might
not want to sign. If in doubt, leave it until I get back. Put a
freeze on all spending by councillors. Your public appearances
will be limited, and since I won't be editing any speeches for
you while I’m away, make sure you beat around the bush. Whatever
you do, don't make any firm commitments. This office will be
closed, so you are to work at your usual hideaway office. If all
goes well I‘ll be out of here by noon.”
Two huge steel doors decorated the
other end of the vaulted hallway, and these opened on a
helicopter pad. Usually Arthur used a smaller side door.
Checking the wind gauge, Arthur saw it was safe to open them and
used his card. The copter and pilot were waiting on the pad, as
they were every morning. The reason for it being that Arthur
didn't actually work at city hall like the protesters thought. A
year ago, citing security reasons, the City Clerk had rented
Arthur's suite of offices out to lobbyists for a multinational
pharmaceutical firm and moved him to a hideaway office on the
waterfront Planet Fair Demolition Lands. These lands were
actually a strange sort of ultra modern wasteland - a megacity
project built down on the southeast waterfront when it seemed
certain that that the city’s bid for the Planet Fair would be
approved.
The area featured several blocks of
eroded streets filled with illegally dumped industrial waste,
debris and rubbish. When the hi-rises of the mega project had
been constructed, an old underground sewer system and an
unstable rock formation beneath the sewers had been overlooked.
It meant they had completed a project that was really a giant
Humpty Dumpty ready to collapse - and it did collapse. The
lesson learned was that when mega-projects were put together in
secret and it was too easy for developers to get permits, they
didn't check for other structures they were building on. Now
there wasn't a permanent resident in the whole place; if you
could find a stray cat or raccoon you were lucky. Access was by
plane only.
Arthur had objected to the move at
first, and then he'd thought it over. He hated the City Clerk
and his brown-shirted financial crisis team, so it wouldn't hurt
to get away from them, plus he was going through a divorce
battle with Margaret and the demolition lands were a place where
her lawyers couldn't get to him. It seemed like a temporary
solution so he'd bought into it.
As the helicopter hit the air, he
thought about buying out of the deal. His guess being that Merv
had put him there to humiliate him, or maybe he was hoping a
building would fall on him. There was also the possibility that
the premier was behind it - a move to keep him under control,
having only to fly into the city for controlled scrums. There
really was no danger of him saying anything controversial when
he was hidden in a wasteland most of the time. The premier
seemed to have political instinct. He knew that any mayor would
eventually make a bid for power. Possible power plays were
blocked as long as Merv and the trustees were in firm control.
Toronto panned out below like a
glossy postcard as the copter headed straight for the lake. In
the immediate city, little green space showed, just jammed
traffic arteries, scrapers and concrete. He was glad when the
blue waters of the lake appeared, cool, and relaxing – enough so
that the domino tumble of condo towers next to the Toronto
Island super airport didn't bother him any more. He closed his
eyes, let his thoughts spin with a few deep breaths, and when he
opened them they were descending on a wide wall of rubble,
barbed wire and denuded thorn bushes. Broken streets and small
bridges showed at odd earthquake angles. He could see rusting
auto wrecks, shattered buildings and the gleam of broken glass.
There was nothing quite like the demolition lands. Smack in the
middle of them an open square and dry fountain appeared. A
concrete slab like a bunker with gun-slit windows rose on the
west side, and that was Arthur’s office. Cleaned daily by the
only city works crew that had survived the privatization laws,
it was his personal paradise, home away from home, and place of
business.
Cold wind from the rotors chilled
him and sent leaves skittering on the frosty cement. Arthur
shivered, looked around, and then walked to the main doors.
Stopping by a marble column, he turned and looked back at the
rising helicopter. In moments, it’d vanished, and he felt
another cold wind; this one moaning, creaking through the
shifting wreckage like a frosty ghost and sending light hail
rattling against boarded windows. It would have given other men
the creeps, but to Arthur it was the sound of home.
His footsteps echoed like gun claps
as he walked the foyer. Though flat when it was built, it now
inclined slightly and Arthur had to remember to walk slowly.
Stopping at his office door, he recalled that most of his work
was done. It would be a good day to start with the tenant rights
idea. Slag Peterson was the big candidate talking about running
against him in the next election, so it would be nice to come up
with a few surprises during the campaign. Slag never campaigned
on anything but tax cuts and a developers’ wish list. Arthur
grinned as he considered how a few issues like rights for
tenants would throw Slag into a state of hopeless confusion.
His magnetic key turned in the lock.
Maybe the premier would fund a system like the old one - one
rotating circuit judge, who rode around the city on public
transit hearing eviction cases at no cost in the public areas of
shopping malls. The door creaked open - he could have the 8,750
page compendium of amendments flown in and start work on it in
the afternoon. Wiping his shoes on the mat, he nodded in private
approval, turned, and then he saw something crazy and gasped.
A large map of the city was posted
on a board behind his desk, only now it had a huge hunting knife
stuck in it. Arthur's hair stiffened as he walked over. As he
got closer, he saw that it held a bloody note on butcher paper.
Pulling the blade out, he snatched the note. Blood got on his
fingers so he hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped
them, then his ulcer roared and his vision blurred. Managing to
fall into his chair, he winced and waited for his head to clear.
He read the note carefully.
“REMEMBER ME OLD BUDDY, HOW I TOLD
YOU I'D GET YOU, BUT THAT'S ONLY IF SOMEONE ELSE DOESN'T GET YOU
FIRST. YOU SHOULD WATCH WHAT YOU'RE SIGNING, ARTHUR. THIS IS
ABOUT MURDER AND YOUR PAL, MERV. SEEMS HE'S GOT YOU ON THE HOOK
FOR ABOUT A BILLION IN FRAUD. MEET ME IN THE OLD TUBE AT TWO,
BRING MERV AND TEN MILLION IN CITY NOTES OR I'LL GET WORD TO THE
POLICE. DON'T TALK TO ANYONE ELSE OR THE BLOOD ON THE NEXT NOTE
WILL BE YOURS.”
The note fell limp in his palm, and
for some moments, he stared in disbelief. Then it hit him, who
it had to be and he felt his tongue become a dead lump in his
mouth. Fear rammed it into his throat, and his ulcer went cold
as ice. Falling forward from the chair, he went to his knees on
the floor and choked. He shook the note - “Damn it, no! no! It
can't possibly be . . . I'm losing my mind.” Blood rose to his
head so fast he felt his face flush and he nearly passed out,
then a voice . . . a voice from a past he’d all but forgotten,
rang out . . . it echoed in the cold streets and sewers of his
memory . . . 'I'll get you, Arthur! I'll get
yoooooooooooooooooou!'
Stumbling to his feet, he seized the
desk and shook his head. “Call Merv . . . wait,” he muttered.
“Maybe Merv's behind it. He found out somehow, and wants to
drive me mad and put me away. But why would Merv blackmail
himself for ten million? But if it's not Merv, then it's Ace,
and it can't be Ace. . . that's impossible . . . he's been dead
for twenty years.”
Deciding he needed help, he went
back to the foyer and down to a reinforced door. His bodyguard,
Edward was billeted there, though Arthur rarely saw him. He'd
have to take him along for protection. Edward was far too dumb
to be involved in such a clever plot, Arthur was sure of that,
so he opened up and hurried down the hall, expecting to find
Edward in his quarters watching the sports satellite channels
like always. As usual, the door was open, and he could hear
cheering. Edward had his back to him, and appeared to be
absorbed in a Jays game, which had to be a replay since Arthur
knew the Jays weren't playing today. “Edward,” he said quickly,
“get dressed, I need you.”
There was no answer and Edward
didn't move. Asleep at the set again, he thought. He hurried
over and seized Edward's shoulder, and to his surprise found it
hard and cold. Edward fell back and his face came into view -
ice-blue eyes bulging, blood tears, his tongue protruding fatly
from his gaping mouth, and there was a steel dart stuck in the
centre of his forehead.
Arthur gagged, staggered back. He
was about to run when he spotted one of Edward's automatic
weapons on the floor. Grabbing it, he took off, heading for the
front doors.
Cold wind blasted his face as he ran
across the square, and it occurred to him that running wasn't
the best idea. It was likely safer in his bunker than it would
be in the wrecked streets and buildings. But that didn't matter,
because Edward's body and the possibility that the killer was
still in there was a power he couldn't overcome. Ducking into an
outdoor wireless phone niche, he picked up the receiver and was
about to punch in a number when he remembered that none of the
phones here worked. He slammed it down and took out his pocket
organizer. Phoning the police wouldn't be a good idea; he
couldn't do that or they'd want to know about the note. If they
captured the blackmailer alive he’d talk, and his career as
mayor would be over. Merv couldn't possibly be behind something
this insidious, he was sure of it now, so he punched in his
number.
“Calling already, Arthur. Guess I'm
not going to have much of a vacation, am I?”
Arthur steadied his hand and told
him about the death and the note.
“You didn't call the police, did
you?”
“No.”
“He calls you old buddy, so just how
long has he been blackmailing you?”
“He hasn't, and I don't know him, I
swear.”
“You son of a bitch, Arthur. You
gave him information about me!”
“I didn't. I couldn't. I don't know
anything about a billion-dollar fraud. There isn't one, is
there, Merv?”
“Of course not, but this guy must
have some dirt on us he's planning to release. I need a name,
give me his name.”
“Ace, but it won't do you any good,
because Ace couldn't have written that note - he's been dead for
twenty years.”
“You're nuts, Arthur. I want that
name. Never mind, I'm flying in with my security man to track
this maniac. Keep on the run and prepare to meet him at the tube
at two, and you better hope I don't find out that you're in on
this.”
“Bring the City Notes.”
“I guess you couldn't do without
that money, could you?”
“Shut up, Merv - you asshole.
There's a killer after me, and I don't care about you or money.
But if we have to lure him out, we need the dough.”
Arthur pocketed his phone, shuffled
away from the booth, nearby buildings leaned crookedly, and he
could feel cold eyes watching him from every broken window.
Waiting around for Merv wasn't an option; the killer could pick
him off. Maybe a dart would whistle down any moment. The thought
of it made him shiver. The tube, he said meet him in the tube.
What was that? Putting it to mind he remembered that the tube
was the first part of the project to collapse - part of the
expressway project, and it had dropped into the old overlooked
sewer complex the project had been built over top of. “Let's
see, from here the tube would be to the north.”
Loosening his belt, he stashed the
weapon, then he hugged the wall, moving north through the
square. Everything was iced over, making for slippery going, and
the obstacles were many - piles of broken concrete, broken
flagpoles, rusted reinforcement bars, fallen ledges, hunks of
tar and roofing stone. He came to a spot where the street had
split and he could see the corpses of earthworms in the frosted
side.
The wind sang high, every rusty nail
and loose board above creaked as he climbed over the remains of
a dump truck in a sunken intersection. He was hurried along by
the blow on a street that wound north. A huge sheet of tin,
half-torn from a works building, banged incessantly against a
metal pole that held a street sign that had rusted to the point
of being unreadable. Jumping some timbers, he found another
block of open but warped road and hurried on. Near the next
intersection, the wind gusted and blew the door of a plastic
Johnny open, causing him to wobble near a deep crevice. Flurries
spun and skated on the rubble, cloud shadows drifted and the CN
Tower rose like an unfriendly giant in the distant gloom.
Thoughts of the killer sent his
blood running cold, but in spite of the fear, his mind weighed
the truth of the situation. A blackmailer wouldn't have killed
Edward. It couldn't be a professional after him or he'd be dead
already. This murderer was likely a maniac - a concept that
caused him to bite his tongue, groan, and wonder why in the hell
he was going alone to this meeting. But what else was there? He
supposed it was that he didn't trust Merv . . . that and the
fact that he had to face it sooner or later. If Merv was into
fraud like the note said, then what sort of deal was it? And
murder . . . it sure wasn't Merv that planted a dart in Edward's
forehead.
Arthur knew Merv could be getting
kickbacks, but hell, in reorganized megacity politics a lot of
people were getting them. City deals were always rushed through
by politicians and committee members bought by developers with
plans for mega-projects. The megacity was a developers'
mega-dream. Some people said it wasn't only developer
corruption, but bureaucratic corruption. They thought that the
old conservative Al Peachly had tightened city amalgamation by
using blackmail to eliminate a crew of councilors who were in
the way of plans to download more costs. Old Peachly sure
couldn't say anything about that now. He'd died right here, in
the demolition lands, breaking sod on the day the tube and the
sewers collapsed and Humpty Dumpty came down for the big fall.
Most of his key staff and the former city clerk had been with
him that day. It meant that if there had been any corruption
they would never testify concerning it. If they did, they'd be
the first witnesses that ever dug themselves up from under the
rubble of a forty-storey building to testify against themselves.
Merv had been in charge of the
records even back then, and he'd testified that the old sewer
system that destabilized the development had never been on
record. The developers couldn't have known about it. Only thing
was - Arthur knew the sewers were on record at one time and that
Merv had lied. He knew but he wasn't able to say a word, not
even to Merv, because revealing the information would bring to
light a period in his past that he wanted buried.
“Buried,” he thought, and a
spotlight flashed high in the gloomy clouds swirling past the CN
Tower, illumining the truth in his mind. Skeletons came clear of
the cobwebs, and he saw it all. Merv had somehow pieced together
his past. Merv had to make sure he never talked … because if it
were discovered that Merv had lied about the sewers, the case
would be reopened and he'd go away for a long time.
The sound of beating rotors carried
on the wind. Glancing up he saw Merv's blue copter descending
into the crooked maze of buildings. A huge chunk of concrete
came crashing down like a bomb, destroying the side of a phone
booth on his right. Hurrying to shelter in a runoff tunnel, he
looked back, seeing a high ledge split and more concrete spider
and fall. If any of it hit him, he'd be dead; killed by the wind
and not Merv.
The realization hit him; once
crushed he’d never live again in this city. And that meant one
thing; no one had come back to life. There wasn't a supernatural
killer or monster. Merv had written that note after digging up
some clippings on his past. His hired butcher had killed Edward
and planted the note. But why the charade? Why the phony meeting
in the tube? And why would Merv come over personally when he was
supposed to be heading for the Florida Keys, presumably for an
alibi? Could be they wouldn't kill him right away, but hold him
until Merv was safe. Have him answer some questions, make some
phone calls, then terminate him when everything fit their plan.
“They'll never get me, the
bastards!” His numb hand touched the automatic weapon under his
coat. He hurried ahead out of the tunnel. A quick flash caught
his eye; light illumined part of a dark coat as someone moved in
the gloom beyond a cracked storefront window. Someone had
appeared and faded fast - the mark of someone deadly. Someone
who could only be Merv's hired killer.
Keeping on the far side of the
street, he crept along in the shadow of a pocked brick wall, his
eye still on the suspect window - then something black slithered
at his feet, his ulcer clawed at him, a cat screeched, and he
ran like crazy, the wind moaning through broken walls and
girders like a zombie in hot pursuit.
This portion of the road inclined
upward, so he huffed to the top and halted, finding that the
asphalt ahead had collapsed. Eroded earth gullied down to a
stack of empty drums and a dead end. “Shit!” he said, staring at
the jack hammered wall. He noticed the flurries melting in front
of him, and felt a rush of warm air. A familiar smell, the odors
of the sewer, and it brought back memories. It meant the gully
was a split where the project had shifted down into the old
sewer complex. Glancing back, he saw no one, but he heard
something snap, and that was enough to start him downhill. He
got three long steps before the frosty earth collapsed, sending
him headlong to the bottom where he tumbled into the drums. The
gun in his belt hammered his kidneys so hard he nearly passed
out. For a moment, he groaned with wet flurries hitting his
face. A strong exhalation of acrid sewer air roused him. Looking
right he saw the end of a broken megacity pipe, rusty mesh and a
torn sewer grate. It meant the old tunnels were right below and
it would be possible to use them as a getaway.
Dropping down, he waited for his
vision to focus; he could see about twenty yards back, after
that it was gloom. Taking out his keychain penlight, he clicked
it on and saw that the tunnel was clear. If he were very lucky,
he'd find a passage to another exit and escape the killer.
Clods of earth rattled down behind
him; he hoped it wasn't someone coming down the rise. Fear
killed the pain in his back and he began to walk, careful steps
because the floor was skinned with dirty ice. Slime on the walls
had frosted over, and there wasn't any polluted water or sewage
now as the connection to the rest of the city had been severed
after the collapse.
The tunnel widened; there was plenty
of room for upright walking. Light fanned down in spots from
jagged splits above, and he could hear the faint howl of the
wind. He came to a branch where the walls were bricked. And it
was an area he remembered from his old days as a sewer worker -
days that'd ended twenty years ago. His sense of direction
returned, and he took the larger branch, knowing it headed north
to the tube. He had it in mind that there might be a break
there, a spot where he could hide and watch for Merv. Pulling
the gun from his belt, he checked it over and thought about
shooting Merv. Maybe he'd just blast him from a hole in the wall
and that would be the end of it.
An open workman's storage area
appeared off to his left, and at the back of it, he saw a heavy
gray door. The place seemed familiar. Walking over, he tried the
handle, and though stiff, it moved, allowing him to pull it
slowly open. Raising his penlight, he looked around and at first
saw nothing but a rust-stained concrete floor. Then he stepped
in and something caught his eye. He steadied the beam. It
focused on cobwebs and a skeleton. His hand jumped, and the
light illumined more skeletons. Staggering back, he felt his
scalp tighten like a glove. Turning, he hurried out the door and
paused for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Footsteps, a
shuffling and scraping came from the tunnel, and he didn't step
out and look, but quickly stepped back in the room and quietly
closed the door.
Now it was certain that someone was
following him. He made his way across in the gloom, passing the
skeletons slowly and brushing against a stack of crumbling
paper. He heard another scrape and turned. He saw a very faint
light and crept over to an air grate. He could see through the
slats to the tunnel. Footsteps echoed and he crouched as a
shadow approached. It was a man, dragging one foot as he walked
- a cripple. The dark form walked right up beside the grate,
passed it, then halted, turned, and headed back. For a brief
moment, faint light fell on the face, and it was a moment that
stopped Arthur's heart. It skipped about five beats, and for at
least a minute, he couldn't breathe. His lungs simply froze.
When they started to pump again, blood and a force of
electrifying fear rose and he felt his hair turn to nails. The
face, it had been horrible, deformed with splotches of scar
tissue and rust . . . and it had been Ace's face. Ace, the man
who'd sworn he'd get him.
Ace was supposed to have died twenty
years ago, and in the old days, he’d been Arthur’s foreman in
the sewer. It seemed impossible and mad that he’d still be here.
But he was here and without a doubt, he’d collected the
skeletons and written the note.
He wondered what the skeletons were;
people Ace had killed or unfortunate victims whose bodies had
been washed into the sewers? He walked back over and scanned the
bones with his penlight, finding one of the skulls to have a
metal tag with an inscription. Peachly, it said.
“Damn,” Arthur whispered as he
realized that Ace must've dug up the remains of Al Peachly and
the other staffers buried in the big collapse. Shining the light
on the stack of papers, he studied the top one - some kind of
document, he could still read the signature – Jackson Chardy.
Chardy had been involved in the early projects. Grabbing another
paper, he found it to be signed by Merv. He skimmed it and
understood what the documents were . . . evidence, documentation
that proved the whole Planet Fair deal had been based on
conspiracy and fraud. Of course, Arthur already knew that
without seeing any evidence, because the idea originally came
from Al Peachly and a few developers.
The remains of the big Planet Fair
project stood directly overhead; the project that had ended up
as the demolition lands. A development scam that put twenty
billion dollars into the pockets of developers, construction
companies, unions, lobbyists and political hacks.
Rank as fresh garbage and as stale
as thousand-year-old rot, the reek of the sewers rose in his
nostrils. Something viler than an ulcer moved in his stomach,
and determination grew. The flavor of the whole thing stuck in
his mouth like the aftertaste of some crook's horsemeat
hot-dogs. Politics was something ugly, a monster, and these
people had let the beast run amok. The megacity was their
monster, their legacy.
With this evidence in his vault, he
could do anything he wanted to do as mayor. He could spend a
billion on tenants if he liked. There was no more time for tea
with skeletons and old pals turned to phantoms. Merv would be
out there, playing for all of the marbles. He had to erase Merv.
Lifting his gun, he stared at the gold Remington label and
resolved to deal with the situation. Merv was a little prick,
that was all he'd ever been, and if he murdered people, it was
because he didn't know how to wield power. For Ace's part, it
was too bad he'd become a freak -- too bad, but life was life
and if Ace got in the way he'd just have to find the strength to
shoot him.
The door handle felt like ice; he
eased it open slowly and stepped out. Hopping down to the
tunnel, he looked back, seeing nothing but retinal flashes in
the dark. Flicking on the penlight, he swept it across the
tunnel. It came to rest on a face - Ace's aged and distorted
mask of a face. He stood in the shadows beside a broken manhole
ladder, eyes dead, almost like he was a statue . . . then a
spark lit his pupils, his mummified upper lip curled grossly and
he began to move.
Aiming the Remington, Arthur
prepared to fire. His hand shook. He knew he owed Ace and he
really didn't have anything against him. Fear and pity flowed
like poison in the pit of his stomach. Lowering the gun, he
turned and ran. Sand and gravel on the patches of ice aided his
footing and the sound of his heart pounded with his heels. Brown
brick walls changed to gray stone and concrete. Swinging left at
a fork, he entered rounded runoff tunneling. Water trickled over
hard mud at the bottom, his feet made a slapping sound. Death
pursued him in the darkness to his rear, he was racing to meet
it in the tunnels ahead, it was there with the gun in his hand,
and it towered overhead in the heights of the Demolition Lands …
the wind howling through the disintegrating scrapers was its
breath, the smashed girders, glass and concrete its teeth. The
creators of this nightmare couldn’t have been human, they were
the skeletons he'd seen, grinning and mocking as their spirit of
decay killed city democracy and brought everything low.
The people had lotteries, drugs,
poverty, prostitution, and serfdom. It was democracy as fair and
friendly as a kick in the teeth. And they had him as mayor - an
impotent weakling who'd done nothing but listen to the dictates
of the premier's brown shirts and the City Clerk. Arthur had
always wanted power, always admired men of power, dreamed of
power. If he died now he'd die a failure and a coward, a
shivering loser who'd never realized even part of his lifetime
dream.
A rush of cold air and a crescent of
bright light alerted him, woke him from the evil daydream. If
he’d calculated correctly, he'd be at the tube - the
half-kilometer bypass ramp to the new super expressway. Since
this end of the tube was the only part that hadn't crumbled,
Merv had to show here.
The light brightened, the tunnel
narrowed. Heaps of sand and gravel had poured in, making it
nearly impassible in spots. He saw busted timbers blocking the
exit, which really wasn't an exit, but just a place where the
roadbed of the tube had collapsed. The light was five feet up,
which meant he had to climb out without being able to look
around first. If Merv had arrived early, he could be picked off.
But most likely he hadn’t as the helicopter couldn't have landed
directly. Biting his lip, he tried to decide. Merv would have a
gunman with him, so he'd be up against two men. Looking back, he
saw nothing, but he knew Ace was following. He didn't want to go
back; he preferred to take his chances with Merv.
Stuffing the Remington in his belt,
he walked up a heap of lumpy earth and worked his way around the
first timber. Catching a second one, he pulled himself up onto a
ledge of broken concrete. Looking up he saw flurries rushing on
the wind and a niche in the sand layer below the asphalt he
could use to get over the top. He took a deep breath. “This is
it,” he muttered, then he pushed up, got his foot in the crack,
sprang up over the top and kept running - getting about two feet
before he hit a huge pothole sheeted over with ice and went
slipping and sliding. He fell hard, whamming his shoulder and
banging his head. When he got up, black snow whirled across his
thoughts, and Merv was there, sitting on an old tire discarded
from some giant earth-moving tractor … sitting there with a grin
and an expensive Colt laser-sight handgun in his black-gloved
hand.
“I’m so glad you could join me,”
Merv said as his face pinched into a nasty frown - a look that
was silly considering his wet drooping curls and the white cap
of flurries topping them. “Sit down,” he said, pointing to a
stack of warped timber. “I guess we can chat while my man gets
your buddy.”
Arthur glanced back and smiled. “You
mean he's down there, looking for us?”
“He is, and he's armed, so it won't
be funny for your accomplice when he finds him.”
“Don't count on him bringing anybody
back. I think he'll lose his nerve after he gets a look at this
accomplice.”
Merv wagged his gun. “I said sit
down.”
Arthur shuffled over to the boards
slowly, trying to hide the bulge of the weapon at the back of
his coat. It looked like he was in for a tiny bit of luck. All
those gun control speeches he'd made must've convinced Merv, and
he couldn't grasp that he might be packing one. Being a wimp had
its advantages.
“Guess you found out about me?” Merv
said, watching him sit.
“Guess you found out about me, too?”
“Not as much as I want to know,”
Merv said. Reaching in his pocket with his free hand, he pulled
out a folded newspaper clipping. “I got worried and wanted to be
sure there were no references anywhere that would show I had
knowledge of these old sewers. The reason is this, Arthur. They
didn't collapse by accident. On the big day, when old Al
Peachly, his staff, and the former City Clerk put in their
spades, I hit the button. I blew up a tiny section of the rock
formation and sewer and brought the whole caboodle down on their
heads. I made sure they’d never get caught and talk.”
Arthur shivered. “Holy shit, you've
been a maniac all along!”
“Yes, and maniacs have to cover for
themselves. The only thing I found when I looked up the sewers
was this newspaper copy with a picture of you and the police
tracking some guy who fled into the tunnels twenty years ago.”
Arthur chuckled as he wiped away a
tear. “I told you my background was in labor. At that time I was
a sewer worker, and nearly went to jail for it.”
“Give me the whole story.”
“I arrived in Toronto from eastern
Ontario and I couldn't find a job. I ended up collecting
welfare. I got a check, but instead of using it to rent a room,
I got drunk. The police arrested me on Yonge Street, drove me to
a waterfront bridge, and knocked me about. They told me to get
out of Toronto and then they left. I sat there dazed, and then I
saw some workers emerging from a manhole by the bridge. Only
there was something odd about it because they got upset when
they noticed me there. The foreman was a guy named Ace. He came
over and talked to me. A minute later, he pulled out a bottle of
Canadian Club, and in the end, he offered me a job in the sewer.
I got union membership without attending a meeting and it turned
out to be one hell of a good job. In some ways it was the best
job a man could get.”
“Yeah, those were the good old
days,” Merv said. “Salt of the earth. I've always admired men
who want to work. Sometimes I wish I could get my hands dirty
again.”
“Work? We didn’t do any work. We
left every morning and went down into the old sewer complex. It
was closed even back then, and Ace had hidden the records on the
complex. We didn't have to worry about meeting up with other
workers, so what we did was play cards, get drunk, and come out
on Fridays to get our pay.”
“Lazy bastards,” Merv said. “Thank
God they weeded you people out in the megacity transition.”
“Bastards -- maybe. It went on for
years. We played cards and Ace was my hero. Many times he
wouldn't play. He’d get drunk and sit there, saying to no one in
particular - 'Work, I worked seventeen years of my life.
Seventeen years and I swear I'll never work another god damn
day.' - Then he'd bang his glass down and grin. His theory was
that Canadians are people who like to have it easy. Anyone who
wanted to work wasn't a real Canadian. He admired crooked
politicians and other people who could get paid without working
a stitch. Back then, they were always talking about getting
welfare people back to work, and old Ace called that treason. He
said it ran against the grain of the people. He said no true
Canadian would want to work and make other people rich. The only
thing a Canadian wants is freedom and a case of beer.”
Merv shook his curly head, his eyes
popping like it was the wickedest thing he'd ever heard. “I know
about those kinds of people,” he said. “But maybe Ace was right
in a way. The old reform government got turfed for killing
welfare and just about every other socialist benefit, but it was
too late for the bums and commies. We'd taken everything away
and time passed until my uncle, Hatchet Hardin became premier
and solidified the deal. In some ways, I admire Ace's honesty.
The rest of the union crew and the liberal left always lied.
This Ace guy came straight out and straight up. He was a crook
and a bum and proud of it.”
“It's nice that you admire him. You
can tell him that when he comes out.”
“Comes out. What do you mean?”
“I mean it's him that your man down
there is after. Ace is like a zombie now, but he's bright enough
that he wrote that note. He's been down there for twenty years.
We never found him. It was assumed he fled the country, and that
was the way I liked it. He swore he'd get me that day we chased
him into the tunnels. I still hear his voice hollering in my
nightmares. In the end, I testified against the union and got a
new identity. That's how I became Arthur and megacity mayor
without the scandal coming out.”
“Very clever of you . . . a mayor
who's been a bum all along. You should be down there with your
pal.”
“Don't worry, he's not alone. He's
got the others - the skeletons of the people you killed. He
keeps them in one of the old storage rooms where we used to play
cards. Maybe he talks to them, plays poker and tells them how he
doesn't want to work.”
“Unfortunately for Ace, no one is
going to miss him when he dies. Which fits perfectly into my
plans.”
“You put me over here to erase me
even before you found out about the sewers - why? I never had
any power as mayor. You always had it all.”
“The why is because the premier
plans to change things. They're talking about cutting my
position and going with an elected mayor who has my powers. The
left has been squeezed out now and many Tories fancy the idea of
running for mayor, but none of them wants to be a powerless
mayor. They aren't worried about you because they think you'll
be an easy candidate to beat. But I know that you’re too smart
for them. You’ll win and be beyond my control.”
“I'll win. I'll make the changes
I've been wanting to - I'll make them crawl.”
“Unfortunately you won’t be alive to
run. After your scandalous death and the news of the
billion-dollar fraud you engineered, the public will want to
vote for the sitting mayor and hero who exposed it all. And that
person will be me.”
Ricocheting gunshots and a heavy
thump rang up from the tunnel. Merv cupped his free hand to his
ear. “Looks like your pal has bit the dust. Too bad you won’t be
around for the campaign. I have wicked stuff I can release on
all of my opponents, so it’ll be fun.”
More shots zinged in the tunnel,
dust smoked up, followed by a scream, a ghastly scream. One that
went on and on, echoing up from the hole and vanishing in the
winds of the tube.
“God, what's happening down there?”
Merv said as another howl echoed up.
“Your man has failed, Merv. Ace got
him. I don't know what's happening to him, but it sure can't be
pretty. Call him the new boy on the skeleton crew.”
“No, I can't let that happen,” Merv
said. Getting up from the tire, he hurried over to the hole and
looked down. But It was silent, just a low moan of the winter
wind sweeping through the tube.
Seeing his chance, Arthur pulled out
his gun, but he didn't fire. He waited a long moment, ready to
squeeze the trigger. When Merv turned, the sight of the weapon
didn't panic him; he simply raised his gun and faced-off with
Arthur. “You don't have the guts to shoot that thing, Arthur. I
know you and how you feel about guns with anything but rubber
bullets in them.”
Blood rose from Arthur's pounding
heart, flushing his brow. He knew Merv was right; he couldn’t
pull the trigger. “I'm going to back up behind these boards and
walk away, Merv.”
“No you don't,” Merv said. “Take a
step and you're finished.”
Arthur glanced at his right foot,
like he had to check to see if it would obey him, then they both
heard a tearing sound rise from the pit. “Looks like your zombie
pal is going to come up and swallow bullets,” Merv said.
Bullets, rubber bullets, the idea
lit in Arthur's mind like a fuse. It was Edward's gun and he
hadn't allowed Edward to use real bullets. He was carrying an
automatic Remington loaded with rubber ammo. It meant he could
pull the trigger, and as Merv glanced back at a grimy hand
reaching up from the hole, he did fire. A heavy spray - it sent
Merv stumbling back, firing wild shots in the air. Lowering his
aim to Merv's knees, Arthur clipped his legs out from under him.
Then Merv let out a yell of disbelief and anguish as he fell and
slipped into the hole.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
The screams had been muffled, and
when no one came out of the hole, Arthur knew that Ace didn't
want him. After twenty years in the sewer, he had peace. Perhaps
if Merv was still alive Ace would have company for a while.
Someone to play a few last hands with . . . someone with many
confessions to make.
Arthur walked up out of the tube and
faced the skewed skyline of the demolition lands. He turned; the
megacity was sketched against low gray clouds. Tower spotlights
flashed through the curtain of snow, and then a white wave of
hail swept in, jingling across the empty drums and cans like
Christmas bells. An easy smile crossed his face, his lips curled
with satisfaction. Mega-Toronto was a monster of a town, and the
founders of it were a wicked bunch of skeletons. Old Ace was a
zombie now, and it looked like Merv had joined the phantom crew
in the sewers. They were all down there in the heart of decay;
emperors had their monuments, politicians their statues, and
like the Egyptians, the megacity geniuses had a tomb. Like Ace,
they'd never work again - their time had come and gone. They
were history-book heroes, and no one cared about a little
mega-corruption in the past. The world had its new people, and
Arthur was one of them. He was now a mayor with power; and he
knew how to use it. Yes, the megacity had its ghouls and that
was true, but now the biggest ogre in town was him - he was the
monster of the megacity, because he had the power, unlimited
power, and the only key to the city.
--The End –
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