Down and Out: A Young Adult Dystopian Adventure (The Undercity Series Book 1) (4 page)

It made him sad, the contrast between those above and those below. What made them so special they could be so greedy? The answer lay all around him. They had the food and the air. They controlled access to all their basic needs, even water, which came in drips and drabs and weekly doses. Nothing made sense.

The three of them left the general market area and turned down the avenue leading to the central sections of Uppercity. He frowned as the Upperlords meandered by with their immaculate clothes and fresh faces. They didn’t appear pale or gaunt. Suffering did not haunt their bodies like a sickly grey aura smothering hope. They were straight and healthy as they received the best of the supplies and services, leaving the leftovers to the Underlings.

Still, what could Unders do? They had the brutes, and no Underling could afford one. It was where the strong and powerful went to survive. They became the controlling force for the Upperlords who housed, clothed, and fed as many as a dozen depending on how extensive their riches and property. The most affluent ran the greenhouses, and water and air supplies. Some owned land and shelter while others bought clothing and various items from Underlings like his father and supplied them for those above. Every one of them kept at least one brute— giant, muscular people who had no emotion or boundaries as to what they were willing to do—and his father buying one.

“Pa, are you sure we need one of those?” he asked as they wandered past two bookend walls of muscle protecting the elaborate entrance to a grand and imposing building. They glared hatred at him as he and his parents went, their eyes black and faces scarred.

His father took Ma’s hand. “Don’t stress. We’ll find one just right for us.”

She didn’t seem convinced. Blinking in the light, she appeared diminished, which was strange to witness. In their home, she filled the room though she stood two inches shorter than Pa. Here, her smile hid, and her usual dancing eyes held fear. Her timid manner unnerved him. She did not like Uppercity, but she would not let their father go to the market to buy a brute without her. In their home and their warehouse, she controlled everything.

The Uppers understood when they visited and treated her with respect. Now, he realized they faked deference to her. Up here, they gazed through her as though she was nothing, and this added to the anger burning in him like a child wanting life to be fair. It wasn’t happening, he got that, but it did not mean he could stop himself from being angry.

“Calm yourself, love. They can sense despair,” his mother said with a playful wink though tension lingered about her mouth. “Don’t take everything so personal. They live their lives, and we go on with ours. To be honest, I think ours is better.” She raised a hand to shield her eyes as she gazed up at the vaulted ceiling several stories above their heads. “I must admit I would love to see so much space every day.”

“Ma, do you think Pa should get a brute before we even make sure we’ve found anything interesting? I mean, they are expensive, aren’t they?”

She patted his hand and gripped his palm. “Rest easy. I have confidence in your father’s instincts; I always have and always will. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t live the life I do. I wouldn’t have your brother and sisters, or you. So, we trust him.” Her smile turned into a grim line as they went through the arches and entered the Market Quarter. “Besides, they can’t all be expensive.”

Teddy hoped she was right. He gazed around at all the stalls where many of the vendors sold wares his family scrounged up. Every booth cried out opulence and ownership. People flocked to them, haggling with goods of their own or papers of credit for items from other shops. Upper Market was a strange chess game where nothing was worth anything and everything cost something. What else was there to do, but collect things from a dead society?

He took a deep breath as they moved closer to the Adult Quarter. Sometimes, he, Caden, and Jolon would get a couple of cheap credits each to go to one of the plays or concerts in the Theater Quarter with strict instructions to keep to the children’s shows. This was a straightforward rule for Teddy. A year before he met his family, he took a wrong path and got lost in the Nest’s maze of tiny rooms. He made his escape with sheer luck and a slight build, which enabled him to hide in crevices, but not before getting an unwanted glimpse of the Uppercity escort auction house. Now, every time he went near either area he shuddered and stayed close to his father. Once, Jolon wanted to explore the slum, but he was too scared to go alone. Caden had her reasons for staying away. Teddy never asked for details; he didn’t need to. They shared a glance, and that was enough.

Sometimes, Pa would leave them at the theater and go chat with his friendlier contacts. Occasionally, Ma joined him, but she preferred shopping for fresh food they could not grow or raise such as eggs or vegetables.

As they left the quarter behind, Teddy recognized a few Under creepers lurking about.  The sight of them made him shiver. They were the worst kind of desperate, willing to search through the poor and suffering of Undercity for anyone they could sell. Too many Underlings disappeared due to them. One, a short, stubby man with too much hair and not enough teeth, scanned Teddy over in a way that made him ill. Another man joined him, and they leaned close, whispering and giving him disturbing side-glances.

The other man was a slimy narrow character named Dorkas who liked to dig into trouble. He was a pale sort with knobby knees and long face. Sometimes Pa ended up in heated, pointless discussions with him. He hated the shifty creeper who lingered around where no one wanted him.

They worked their way through the crowds until they came to a platform at the end of the market. Two people sat on high- backed chairs with dull velvet upholstery as though they were royalty from his books of old. Both had an ink-black complexion deeper than Jolon or even Caden, more smooth and pure than he had ever seen before.

One woman was all angles with long hair twisted into tight braids and streaked grey and black. She slouched in her seat, chewing on a crooked carrot with the air of someone running out of entertainment options.

Her companion was stubby and turnip-shaped with gold eyes. She had painted lips and wiry hair knotted in a whirling, plaited bun atop her head.  Unlike the other, her midnight blue suit was clean, crisp, and appeared as though sewn on her. Despite her neat appearance, something about her demeanor made him uncomfortable. She had a way of looking at a person as though calculating just how much profit she might make from them. The way she scanned his body over made him slip behind his father and grasp his mother’s arm.

Pa took her hand. “Ah, Belinda, good to see you.”

The blue-suit woman raised a thick eyebrow and snapped a crisp nod.

“Truman!” cried the other woman, sitting up in her chair and tossing her carrot aside. “Truman Peterson, someone to brighten my day. Here to peruse the brutes again?”

Pa nodded and grinned. “You remember my wife, Tisha?” He gestured toward Ma who smiled and dipped her head in greeting. “This is my son, Teddy. Teddy, this is Georges and Belinda, sisters and the best brute merchants around.”

He was almost certain they were the only brute merchants anywhere. His father winked at him, and he decided his father was being political.

“Ah, Tru, being sly again, are ya?” Georges laughed. “Come, let me show you the one singled out for Magistrate Tipins himself.”

She led them through a door behind their chairs and through to their inner chambers. Teddy blinked as he tried to keep his eyes from bugging out of his head. Gathered about a colourful square platform were some of the most fearsome looking people he ever saw—brutes of different backgrounds, colours, and shapes—some hairy everywhere, others completely bald. They wore little more than shorts, and many of them bulged out with bulk as though someone overstuffed them until their skin became stretched and thin. Their primary purpose seemed to be the continued lifting of weights and challenging each other to prove who was stronger. He had to admit, they were impressive; his arms were threads in comparison. A massive brute with no hair and scarred streaks through his ash-grey skin stood flexing his skills by seeing just how many other brutes he could lift at once. So far, he held three on a platform above his head. All around, the others laid bets for credits.

“Isn’t he amazing? My people found him devouring rats in the septic sewers of South Side. Took five of them to convince him he was better off coming here.”

Pa turned a little pale. “Impressive.” He crossed his arms over his chest and chewed his bottom lip. “So, so, tell me, how, how much is... how much does someone such as him cost?”

Georges laughed. “Far more than either of us might scrape up in a lifetime. Still, my sister and I will make a tidy profit, and he will get a better life.”

The woman’s voice held a genuine note of sorrow, which made Teddy think he might like her. She slapped his father on the back and narrowed her gold eyes as she studied him.

“I want one,” his father said, his voice tight with excitement. “A brute, I want one.”

“I know, Tru, you’ve been coming here for years, and I’d love to give you one... gives a person a boost in society, yes? But they require constant attention and what do you need one for? Yes, you come up with some of the best merchandise the Undercity offers, but your home is a fortress, and those dogs I gave you must offer enough protection. My friend, a brute would only attract scrutiny, unwanted scrutiny.” Her voice dipped in volume as she leaned closer to Pa.

Teddy exchanged glances with Ma. Was the Upperlord right? She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. He took a slow breath and waited. “I want a brute.”

“Tru? You’re serious, aren’t you? You want... you... a brute.  What are you up to? What did you find?”

His father stepped aside to a more secluded corner. “Can’t say, yet. It’s just its time. That is all I can tell you. Now, do you have one I might afford?”

Georges let out a billowing sigh. “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little quieter to talk.” She motioned toward a plain wooden door to their left.

Pa donned a cheerful smile and held his arm out for Ma. She placed her hand on his forearm though she passed a doubtful glance to Teddy who fell in behind.

They entered a small room with papers, books, and pictures piled everywhere—on the tables, the floor, two loveseats and the bookshelves. A single light dangled from above.

“Sorry,” Georges said, pushing a stack aside and clearing a loveseat for Teddy’s parents to sit. “As you know, Tru, I crave literature in any form. I’m afraid I don’t possess much of an addiction to,” she twitched her shoulders and scanned the room, “tidiness.”

They sat down, and Teddy tried to guess her age. Yes, grey streaked her hair, but her sparkling eyes seemed so young. Then again, in this world, it was difficult to tell with anyone. Either way, he figured he might like her.

“Okay, my friend, I’ve known you for a day past my sanity.” She leaned against the corner of a table. “And you and I have done business... well, let’s just say you are a man of integrity who leaves the details of our dealings to privacy.”

“In other words, he does not tell your sister about your more philanthropic endeavors,” Ma interjected. “Nor, should he. It is rare enough to find an Upperlord with any sense of compassion let alone the guts to act even in secret. You are a good woman, Ms. Baldwin.”

“True, enough, my lady,” she said with a nod. “I appreciate the compliment though I would prefer if you kept your declaration of my mmmm... let’s say ‘better side’ to yourself. I must confess I get uneasy thinking of myself in those terms. I like to keep up my reputation, even with myself. And as you understand, my sister would not want to hear of my weaknesses either. She believes I am uninterested in life, and I prefer to leave it that way... leaves more room for manoeuvrability.”

Scratching at the back of her head, she pursed her full lips. “The trick is brutes are a hot commodity. Even the cheap models are quite expensive for you must go through Belinda, and she does not believe in charity.” She plucked a pad of paper from a low side table and stared at the first page as though it was the most important thing at the moment.

“However, if you are serious, I do own a brute. Well, sort of, which I might let you purchase. Now mind you, he’s green and, well, let’s say he possesses potential. He is a good... boy, and he doesn’t belong here at all. In fact, Belinda wants me to unload him from our stock, bad for business. I wanted to place him with a friend of his, Kemi or Kemkem, or something like that, but his owner died, and Belinda assigned him to a more secretive location. Apparently, his former owner taught him to read, and she has this fear that thinking will spread and corrupt all her merchandise. So she sticks the smart ones in the darkest holes she can find.”

“This brute, he’s educated too?” Teddy asked, interested.

She laughed. “In some ways, I guess, but no. He’s not too bright or brutish either.”

Pa deflated. “He doesn’t sound too promising. I was rather hoping to pick up a more, how shall I say, skilled model.”

“Yes, but what can you pay with, Tru? Any other must go through my sister. She would insist on full price, which is more credits than you can gather in a year. Now, I wish life was different, but you lack the protection to set up your own booth where you would make the real credits. You and I both understand how ruthless those marketers are. They cut your throat if you fall short in sufficient security.”

“So you’re damned if you do and you’re condemned if you don’t,” Teddy said.

Georges laughed. “That is one way of putting it. You can’t move up in the world if you don’t own a grade A brute, and you can’t get a high-quality brute if you can’t move up in the world and make more credits.  Right enough, you are a smart boy.”

He squirmed as she studied him.

“Good looking, too. You better hide him. Ole Torod is on the hunt for some fresh blood, according to rumours, and this one fits his bill.”

His mother put a protective hand on him. “We keep our children close. They are never out of our sight.”