Gray

As soon as Dieter was gone, I ducked into the capsule and slammed the lid shut. A little more, and the plastic surface scraped against the concrete ceiling. I was jolted a couple of times, and then the capsule stabilized — the water had finally flooded the room. A few moments of weightlessness seemed like an eternity, but then I felt myself being pulled sideways and downward. The centrifuge of the funnel gained momentum, making my head spin, my stomach hardened. The remnants of the snack rumbled inside. Deprived of orientation and support, I pushed my limbs against the corners with all my might. It was impossible to control the nausea. Sweat beaded on my forehead, I felt stuffy, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer; I threw up. Vomit ran down my chin and chest, mixed with the water I’d scooped into the capsule as I climbed inside. My arms and legs were visibly shaking. I don’t know how long I would have lasted; but I think I finally reached the main drain, a huge pipe five meters in diameter. Gravity did its job; with my back pressed against the inside surface, I felt relatively balanced and was able to exhale a little more freely. The stale air and the smell of food rejected by stomach immediately entered my lungs, causing another bout of nausea. I might have grimaced in disgust at the realization that I was covered in filth, but as soon as I regained my wits, I tensed wondering what would happen next. Zorm didn’t surprise me too much by planting a sneak attack. He’d never liked me, and now he’d found a way to get rid of me. I reached for the watch and jammed the button, making the screen flash. I set the geotag at the agreed-upon rendezvous point and tried to relax. It stank, the air was hot and noisome, but I had no choice. I tried to concentrate on the fact that the capsule was sturdy and almost comfortable; nothing but patience was required of me. To say that I would have preferred to float in icy water in pitch darkness with a tank behind me wasn’t more appealing option anyway. I was a weakling and had accepted that long ago. I was scared, my heart was still pounding restlessly in my chest. So I was rather cowardly glad that the final part of the escape had turned out this way. The clock beeped, announcing that I was nearing my destination. I concentrated again, realizing that I had to be careful to open the lid in time. If I opened it too soon, I’d have to cover the remaining distance myself; if I opened it too late, I’d be wandering through the sewers while they hunted us upstairs. How we got away would become clear very quickly, and I’d better be away as soon as possible. I thought it was noisy outside, as if small streams of water were crashing down in waterfalls, making a rumbling whisper. The capsule wiggled, losing its assertive pace. I think I was in the main collector. I tried to visualize exactly where I was. The folding knife I had stashed in one of my pockets was already in my hand. I fumbled for the indentation behind where the dent protruded, put the blade to it, and stayed still. Come on. The clock beeped again. I immediately struck the base of the knife with my open palm. The point went into the gap, and the lid was thrown aside. The bottom of the capsule swung like a walnut shell, the edge scooped up too much water, and in another instant it was upside down. I didn’t fight back or thrash around like crazy, just covered my head with my hands and let my body sink deeper. After counting down a couple of seconds, I tore upward oaring. By the time I reached the surface, the plastic had already drifted away. I instantly recognized the direction and at once pushed against the current with all four limbs. It took an incredible effort to wade through the water before I was able to grasp the side. In the dim light of the flickering flashlights nearby, I caught the black edge of the concrete, rising an elbow above the water. My breathing was ragged, I was shaking, and I was greedily gulping air, not allowing my body to separate from the smooth surface. My legs were thrown to the side now and then, but I was too exhausted to climb up. ‘Hey, Zorm, look what we got here,’ a voice said from nearby. I cringed as the flashlight shone in my face. ‘Why didn’t you die, huh? ’ exclaimed the alpha, clearly not expecting to see me again. Zorm and a couple of his associates came close to me. One of them stepped lightly on my hand, causing pain. ‘What do we do? Do we throw him down? Or break his neck first? ’ ‘You can’t drop him like that. If he falls into the hands of the tyrates, he’ll give us all in charge.’ ‘Then…’ ‘Dieter! Dieter! ’ shivering, I cried out in a squeaky voice. I wanted to be heard, but the annoying squeak of a huge rat came out of my throat. I shouted the alpha’s name again, not knowing how far away he was. Soon the three pairs of legs looming right in front of me parted, letting a fourth into the semicircle. Craning my neck, I could barely make out a dark figure in overalls. Black high boots stopped in front of me. Nobody was saying anything, and I didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m the one who saved you! I thought up the whole plan! Every last detail! And it was me, not them, who got you out of there! ’ A furious scream tore through my chest, in fact the rat continued to let out a strangled hiss in an attempt to save its pitiful hide. ‘They promised that if I got you out, I’d get into the gang! ’ I fell silent, once again trying to get my body closer to the side. The cold was making me barely control my limbs. They weren’t just shaking anymore, my whole body was shivering, and I couldn’t set the teeth on edge. The exertion made my body aching. My shoulders were weakening, my fingers digging into the cold concrete. A little more and I would have been swept away by the current. I couldn’t hear Dieter’s voice, but it was as if Zorm answered the question: ‘Ther’ was a thing.’ No one else said anything. A pair of tall boots turned, shuffling, and disappeared from sight. They grabbed me by the collar of my uniform and pulled out of water. I collapsed weak with faintness to the icy floor. When I found the strength to get up, the group was moving out. ‘Keep up,’ Zorm said, ‘you might still be alive, but no one’s going to babysit you.’ The five of them — four alphas, including Dieter, and a beta — threw the bags and assault rifles on their shoulders. I lined up behind and hurried after the others. We marched along Greystadt’s sewer maze at a steady pace. Zorm was at the head of the column, leading us out of here. To his left and right, with guns drawn, were Krent and Brem. They were just as big, but about ten or fifteen years younger than Zorm. Beta was pulling the main bags of needed gear and my comp. I instinctively suppressed the urge to get to my possession. I couldn’t use it now anyway, and I wasn’t eager to drag it, hoping I’d have the strength to carry myself at least. Dieter was walking in front of me. I looked closely, but there was no sign of anabiotic depression. He looked as if he hadn’t spent twenty years immobilized as a steak in a freezer. We had covered about five kilometers of dark, smelly, slimy guts when the first gust of cold air reached me. At first I thought I was just seeing things, but after another minute I could smell the distinct odor of rotting leaves clogging the sewer drains. The tunnel narrowed, and the slush under my feet grew thicker. Sticky sludge sloshed under our lug soles until we stopped at a grate. Fine metal ribs covered the one-and-a-half meter exit. Zorm stood to the left and kicked the grate with all his strength; it flew out, revealing a rim of incomplete cut; someone had worked on the obstacle beforehand, so we wouldn’t have any trouble now. Emerging into a narrow muddy alleyway, we looked around. Zorm whistled, and the signal was answered. Alpha nodded to Dieter and headed south, toward an equally dreary alley that was empty at an early hour. Crooked grayish piles of clouds barely gave away the sun that was hidden from the endless concrete walls of the city. A truck was waiting for us at the curb. The shabby green paint was rusty, and the sign that said ‘Air Conditioning Cleaning’ was almost obliterated, but no one had thought to update it. Zorm tapped on the truck. As the back doors opened and the alphas climbed in, I glanced around the street. Nothing changed since I’d been here once. On one side was an abandoned factory building. There wasn’t any broken glass left, just holes boarded up with dirty slabs and rebar to keep the homeless from getting in. On the other side was a two-story building that looked like a barrack. What it might have served as in the past no idea. Now it was probably the domain of drug addicts, criminals, and beggars who couldn’t find a better place to tuck in. There wasn’t much room in the back of the truck. I sat on the edge, close to Bram, and kept my eyes off Dieter sitting opposite me. The truck was dragging, and it was understandable — the weight was considerable for a wreck, and we shouldn’t be in a hurry. It would only attract attention. Outside we could hear the noise of cars passing by; the city was waking up, starting its usual routine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. ‘I guess they haven’t figured out how I got away yet,’ Dieter said. ‘You mean the silence? ’ Zorm grinned. ‘Things have changed, my friend. The tyrates are not what they used to be. They don’t turn on the sirens and tool like crazy anymore. They’re like alligators now. Ther’ ain’t nobody left in the swamp bigger than them, what’s the point to fuss. I’m sure the streets are crawling with sentries.’ ‘Outposts? ’ ‘For sure, but we know where. We’re listening. Patrols are tricky. We have to avoid them, that is why we’ve been circling for so long. But our new friend made us happy with a program, and the driver can see all the points of the patrol cars on the screen…’ It was about me, and I looked up. Dieter focused his unblinking gaze on me. I frowned as Zorm continued to speak: ‘ …remember Zereb? He’s the one who’s driving us. Said he’d be the only one behind the wheel, or I’d have to shoot him. He can’t wait to see you again. And the rest of us from the old days. You’ll see them a bit later.’ Dieter didn’t answer anything, and the conversation faded away. We were still in the crosshairs of invisible pursuers, and where we would meet this night was still in question. The truck rocked again, and the brakes squeaked. ‘In position,’ Zorm announced, rising from his seat first. The alpha threw a hand at the base of his neck, kneading his stiff shoulders. He pulled a face, as he always did, with or no reason, as he climbed out. I was one of the first on the ground and stepped aside. The car brought us to a barn that had once served as either a factory shop or a warehouse for large cargo. Two walls partially surrounded the second level, which was littered with junk: wooden and metal crates, shipping nets, rotted beams and iron. There was plenty of it downstairs, piled up against the walls, rising up to the dirty windows. ‘Here we are,’ Zorm spread his arms, turning to Dieter. A crooked smile hidden by stubble distorted his features, making him look like a pathetic garden scarecrow. The resemblance was reinforced by a ragged jacket, faded and holey, worn over a once-blue but now dirty gray jumpsuit, too big for the alpha who had grown skinny in recent years. The baggy pants had been dragging on the floor for a long time, and the stitched backs were frayed, dragging threads on the ground. Dieter took a slow glance around the room, then walked inside. The others, including me, followed at his heels. The barn led off to the left by an adjacent annex. ‘This is where we gather,’ Zorm explained as soon as the more modestly sized room came into view. A rectangular table stood in the middle, chairs and bales for seating cluttered around it. A basketball caught his eye. A ring was attached here and there to the wall. Old broken vending machines by the opposite partition; next to it, a coffee machine, which Zorm had hastily boasted, was apparently still working… ‘Just no coffee. We should get some.’ A couple of worn sofas in the back on the right. There were tattered old magazines all around; the smell of liquor and cigarette butts, stank no less brightly thoroughly saturated the air. They filled the empty bottles that had gathered into an incredible array, since no one was going to take out the trash. It was a disgusting sight that made my miserable four-by-five room seem like a cozy lodging in comparison. After a long pause, Dieter walked forward, picked up a chair that had fallen over sideways and sat down at the table with his arms folded in a triangle in front of him. Zorm and the others followed, sitting around him, staring at the alpha in anticipation. I stayed back, moving as quietly as I could to the window and getting behind the alpha. Next to me, a doorway was gaping with a hole leading to the kitchen. It didn’t look much different from the rest of the place. There were more unwashed dishes, most of them pots and pans that had been burned regularly. Smithereens reminding of plates, littered the corners. Mostly metal and plastic bowls seemed to have been used here. The stench of rotten leftovers was filling the air. I turned away, staring out the window. Through the dusty smudged square, I could see the courtyard. There was a lower building adjoining the barn, broken perpendicularly; the edge of it might as well have been the very room where we were stuck. On one side of the yard was a high fence covered with barbed wire. Rubber tires lay to the side, broken bars and a pullup rose nearby, and a decent mountain of spread sand settled farther away. While I was looking around, Dieter lit up a cigarette. The others followed him. His first question was why we were in this hole. ‘So…’ began Zorm a little puzzled, ‘and where anyway should we be? As soon as you were frozen, ther’ were fights over territory. It was hard on us, a lot of people went to thenext world. Two-three years later, the authorities came to life. Tyraty got the right to lynch on the spot. We were already beaten, so we had to lay low. Don’t look at me like that,’ Zorm frowned. ‘Everyone shut up then, licking their wounds, we weren’t the only ones. Why did we know that the lawmen would be so quick to bring the city to its knee, let them burn? They lynched about a third of those they could catch. Am I right, Zereb? ’ The beta driver nodded, staring glumly at the floor as if the events of distant days were flashing before his eyes. ‘The others sat quietly, wondering what to do. The order changed drastically, with cameras all over the place. We left the districts almost at once, so as not to expose our people. Sometimes they’d go after families. Six years later, a wave of rallies and demonstrations swept through the city. Not authorized, of course; they didn’t give permission for public speeches anymore. Tyrates unloaded from military trucks, threw gas on the protesters who went against draconian measures, thundered with light grenades, and while people were lying unconscious, went around with batons so that hardly anyone left with whole bones. Understandably, everyone became even more outraged. The people poured into the street with strikes. We joined in. Rebellion or not, the tyrates were pretty bad. The funeral took four days. After that we moved farther away from central districts,’ Zorm crushed a cigarette butt on a crumpled aluminum can and lit a new one. ‘Here used to be an industrial zone. Passes, barriers, inspections — the whole schmear. After demolition, the shops were empty. Of course, they shot most of the workers then. The crisis started. Anyway, the premises were left unclaimed and we occupied this square…’ Zorm listed the names of gangs, old and new, and where they had settled. I was marking places on the map in my head, thinking about the storms that had nearly left Greystadt in ruins. It was a scary time. I was eighteen when the speeches turned into riots, fueling the outrage of the downtrodden and oppressed. It didn’t start out so bad. When they caught Dieter, who’d kept everyone in fear, including the authorities, they announced on TV that, thanks to the work of the tyrates division, the city could breathe free. Then, under the slogan of ‘safety and security,’ the lawmen gave tyrates unprecedented powers. From then on, anyone wearing a silver ‘T’ on his chest could stop a passerby, interrogate and search without explanation. Then came the arrests. Finally, the tyrates were given the right to pass sentence and execute it immediately, without reporting to anyone, although the townspeople were told that the whole system of immediate trial was under strict control. Everyone stayed silent, agonizing over gangs shooting each other in broad daylight, as long as Dieter was caught. When things calmed down, it was too late. No one was going to repeal the new laws. People became afraid of bandits in black cars with frightening letters and privacy glass. Anyone could get caught. A lone alpha aroused suspicion, a lone omega — interest, ending at best in molestation. More often than not, unattended omegas were raped, sometimes maimed and killed. Families and those who cared about the hide sheltered in their homes until dark. The once bustling parks and squares were deserted. People went to work, hospitals, schools, and other public institutions at daytime. The rest of the hours, they stayed out of sight. But no one was safe in their own homes anymore. A warrant was no longer needed to break down any doors. The tyrates started by planting drugs and guns, and then, if a person wanted to avoid trouble, they had to pay them off, with things or money. Sometimes the body of an omega. Those, as a rule, didn’t resist, fearing for their loved ones, especially kids. What was it worth to the tyrates to arrest, or set fire to the house, eventually shoot them? The tyrates represented the law, but they were above it. The authorities had finally lost control of the division. Having once granted the request of the Ministry of Law and Order for unprecedented powers under the pretext of protecting citizens from the likes of Dieter, the tyrates were given permissiveness justified by the letter of law. The Minister who had led the Tyraty Divison himself during the years of rebellion came to power. Life became a living hell. About this and many other things Zorm was telling now. Dieter slowly smoked cigarette after cigarette, never changing his position. He sat slightly stooped over the table, his legs wide apart, his powerful back relaxed. I watched his short hair — exactly the same as it had been at the time of the trial — move slightly in the breeze. Dieter asked: ‘Where is Ivo? ’ I froze. Looked at Zorm. The alpha could not hide the nervous tension; he swallowed the lump in his throat, glanced sideways and spoke with an effort: 'He’s gone, Dieter. Died four years ago. Drugs, damn it.’ Zorm looked at Dieter. I couldn’t see his face, still behind him, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Zorm didn’t seem to like what he saw, so he quickly continued: ‘When he was a kid, you know how comes, he got hooked. Started snorting, but I didn’t know. When I found the syringes at home, I whipped him and told him not to use that stuff again. He didn’t damn though. You’re not my father or my brother, he was shouting,’ Zorm leaned back against the chair, exhaling heavily. ‘I locked him up and handcuffed him to the radiator, but he just got angry and snapped at me. He freed somehow, got a dose, and got it into himself all at once. When I…’ Zorm coughed, giving in to the smoke, ‘when I found him, it was all over.’ There was silence in the room. The day was past the halfway point; the sun, always hidden by clouds, brought no light. Frozen somewhere high above the solid ceiling of the barn, it only let loose long gray shadows. The shadows were getting longer and longer, touching with their filthy limbs every thing, every person imprisoned within these shabby walls. ‘Father? ’ Dieter’s voice making me wince. ‘Killed by the Tyrates during the uprising,’ Zorm said with a shake of his head, not looking at the alpha. ‘That’s when half of our people died. Ther’ are two dozen more, besides the ones you see here. That’s all, Dieter.’ What’s left of Dieter Pryde’s once mighty gang that held the city in check is a pitiful handful of old men and rookies who’ve barely sniffed gunpowder. There was nothing left of Dieter’s family. ‘Why the fuck did I grow bedsores in a stinking box for ever? ’ he asked as quietly and calmly as he’d spoken before, but there was no one left in this room who didn’t have the hairs on the back of their neck standing up. Dieter let out a puff of smoke. ‘You think getting you out was that easy? ’ Zorm looked hurt. ‘We were hoping for a lawyer at first, fighting with the other gangs; a lot of jerks rushed to take your place, and while we did, the tyrates were in power and you were in a maximum-security jail. We decided to wait, and the pleader swore and swore he’d get you out. That was the second time we filed. The rebellion broke out, and he disappeared like a scum of the earth. I found him some time later and gave him a proper burial. He was as good as a goat’s milk anyway. But it didn’t help the cause. I found another white-collar guy, but he was also useless. We looked for opportunities, even wanted to dig, but there were fewer and fewer of us left, and the tyrates were breeding like rabbits in spring…’ Zorm rambled on and on, until the fountain ran dry. ‘So,’ Dieter drawled, ‘how did you get me out? ’ ‘Ther’,’ the alpha nodded at me. ‘He’s the one who came up with the idea.’ Dieter didn’t turn around. ‘He came to us six months ago. Said he knew how to free you, and promised he’d do it if we’d let him join the gang. We beat him up a couple of times, thought he was a nutcase. But he kept coming back again and again. Turns out he wasn’t kidding.’ Dieter waved to one of the alphas and he left the chair. I didn’t need a special invitation, so I came closer and sat down opposite him. ‘What the hell does a worm like you need a gang for? ’ Dieter sat with his back to the window, his face hidden by a shadow. His eyes, staring at me, were invisible. I straightened tensely, looking at the alpha and praying I’d survive the day. ‘Worm managed to get you out of jail, where you would have continued to rot. And your gang is long gone.’ ‘Oh, you! ’ Zorm said indignantly, jumping up like a stung man. The two remaining alphas followed. The betas — the driver and the carrier — stayed where they were. Dieter stopped them with a hand. ‘Why would such a genius need a useless bunch of thugs? ’ I swallowed. ‘It’s time to stop the tyrates.’ Dieter took a new cigarette out of the pack; lit a match. The fire flared in his face, revealing a piercing gaze for a moment. He took a deep drag and exhaled into my face. I coughed. ‘Justice? You’re in the wrong place. What’s your personal interest? ’ The alpha brought the cigarette to his lips again. ‘You have one last shot. After that, I’ll snap your neck.’ The blood pounded deafeningly in my ears, but I realized perfectly well that Dieter was not joking. I couldn’t lie. ‘They… They took away the people I cared about. I want to get even,’ my lips were dry with tension. In the silence, I could see the stump of a smoldering cigarette. It looked like a piece of my finger. And it was all that was left of me. The cigarette butt had been crushed on a battered can. ‘Welcome, worm,’ Dieter finally said. ‘Go wash up. You stink of vomit.’ That’s all the man I’d won the freedom for said to me. I got up and stepped aside. I didn’t know where to find water, but it didn’t matter. I wanted to get some air. The yard was the right place for it. Leaving my new ‘friends’, I listened to others introduce themselves to Dieter. Names, life stories. Interested in those who weren’t there…. ‘By the way, my name is Rain. I know the codes better than my own fingers,’ I introduced myself to myself. In fact, I turned out to be a stinky worm who’d been done a great favor.