Chap 7

It was cool and dark. No one was around. It was completely tranquil but for the occasional pilot-free cargo lifter that passed by on its scheduled route. Nothing else disturbed the strange stillness that hugged the atmosphere like a blanket.

The passageway was approximately three meters wide. Ten meters further on was an intersection, past which the corridors dissolved into a labyrinth.

It was the same to the left and right. Where were they then? How far did they need to keep going, and in what direction? Kirie couldn't decide one way or the other.

Doors and gates interrupted the walls of the passageway every few meters or so. But he couldn't spot any handles or locks or security panels.

Without the color-coded guidelines painted on the floor, his sense of direction would have abandoned him as well. And he had no idea where these color-coded 1ines—the trail of breadcrumbs—were leading him. There were no signs or directions. On and on he walked through this maze, with no end in sight.

How far should I take this?

Frustrated and fed up, Kirie stopped. He sighed and glanced back at Manon. But Manon only shook his head, emphasizing the point without words, his face even more placid than usual.

So what's the game plan here? The audible complaint almost breached Kirie's lips, but he held back. Is this really the right place?

Kirie was on the verge of posing the question out of sheer irritation. However, doing so would only further agitate the incarnation of unbending pride that was Manon. And that was the last thing Kirie wanted to do.

It wasn't easy hanging on when the goddess of luck sailed by within grabbing distance. Mess up the timing and that chance would sail out of reach forever.

Having come this far, Kirie didn't need to suck up to Manon any more than was necessary. But he still had to be careful with his connections. When he'd sold Guy to Iason and collected his ten thousand kario, Kirie was sure that fate was smiling on him. But the big break he'd been waiting for never materialized. Regardless of all his well-made plans and intentions, a miss was still a miss. The realization was a numbing blow to his self-regard.

A Tanagura elite and a slum mongrel—though it was an obvious mismatch from the start, with the possibilities dangling right in front of Kirie's nose, he keenly felt the sting of his naiveté and uninformed view of the world.

Kirie had only met Iason face-to-face three times. And each time the meeting was over practically before he knew it. Though they hardly had the time to settle into a useful conversation, Iason had never put on airs or condescended to Kirie. Naturally, even without doing any of that, Kirie couldn't help but feel the pressure from being in the presence of a Tanagura Blondy.

But he didn't let himself fall into a self-loathing funk. His desire to crawl out of the slums burned too brightly for that. They called him worthless mongrel trash. But give him one good chance, and he'd leave those stifling and oppressive lower depths far behind him.

Luck, timing, and somebody to give him that necessary boost was what Kirie needed. Given that alone, he'd make something of himself in the world, slum mongrel or no slum mongrel. He was scratching and crawling up and out. As sure as he was standing there, he was grabbing onto that brass ring and holding tight. He'd taken the time and made the effort. He'd poured in the cash and held Guardian's trump card—Manon—in his hands. Nobody had given it to him. Kirie had picked this joker out of the pack all by himself. He'd come this far, and there was no going back. Retreat just wasn't in the cards.

The two of them had been following the blue line until they got to a point where the hallways split. They had one more decision to make after that: the orange line on the right, the green line to the left, or the blue line down the center.

After a brief moment of indecision, they turned right.

It wasn't a mutual decision. Kirie left the navigation up to Manon. Not in order to salve Manon's pride, but to keep him from throwing a fit. If Kirie had insisted on leading them down this blind alley, he wouldn't have been able to stand Manon's bitching and moaning.

The harmonizing clip-clop of their shoes echoed louder and louder. That sound alone was the only thing softening the cool, sterile, lifeless atmosphere. More than a mere sensory illusion, the sound was strangely relaxing. Without it, all that remained was that foreboding sense of crisis.

There was nothing as far as the eye could see. Conditions just went on and on. In time, Kirie and Manon stopped hushing their breaths and bothering to hide the sound of their footsteps. It didn't matter, anyway.

After proceeding for a little while, at last they spotted the door they were looking for. They looked at each other and breathed sighs of relief, then quickened their pace.

The door was secured with an electronic lock.

"Finally hit the jackpot," Kirie said eagerly.

"Not necessarily."

"Then hurry up and get it open."

Manon extracted a cardkey from the pocket of his vest and inserted it into the slot. The door opened readily.

"Yes," Kirie couldn't help muttering to himself. "If it was going to be this easy... though, perhaps it was a bit too easy."

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing."

Kirie's body wasn't gripped by any tense feelings. No thrill ran down his spine. He cocked his head to one side. They really got some fucking big state secrets stashed inside here? Cruising Midas and lifting the cash and plastic off the rich, horny old bastards was a hell of a lot more fun than what they were doing.

The door opened and they took a step inside. The interior was filled with a murky gloom. Kirie drew his eyebrows together. "What a depressing place."

The darkness made his taut nerves begin to wind again. He didn't really understand it, but the sense unpleasantness coiling around his guts seemed to be hanging in the air everywhere around him.

"Manon, where's the light switch?"

A little light would do something to diminish those uncanny feelings. At least Kirie could rid himself of the thought banging around inside his head that he was trespassing.

"Can't see a thing in all this darkness."

If they shut the door behind them, the place would be like a vault. Compared to the open hallways they'd been walking down, the place was so claustrophobic it was hard to breathe.

"You don't even have a penlight?" Kirie asked.

"What are you asking me for?"

"If I had one, I wouldn't be asking."

Instead of a biting comeback, all Kirie heard in return was a loud and exasperated sigh. But at least his eyes were gradually getting used to the light. Still, he was seeing nothing that excited his curiosity. Nothing except the expanse of space before them.

His mind remained fixated on that weird sense that had overcome him the minute he stepped into the room—and yet there really was nothing there. His expectations had been cruelly dashed. Muttering to himself, he turned his irritation on Manon.

"Manon, what kind of top-secret laboratory is this? There's nothing here. You been blowing smoke up my ass this whole time?"

Coming all that way on a fool's errand for nothing—it made Kirie want to burst out laughing. He knew better ways to waste his time.

"I never said this was any kind of a top-secret laboratory. You jumped to that conclusion all by yourself."

"What I'm saying is—"

"To start with, this is the first time I've been here."

"But we know Katze has been sniffing around. If there's smoke, there's gotta be fire if he's involved. If there's nothing here, then something doesn't add up."

"I know that. You were the one who insisted that I bring you here—a complete outsider—against my better judgment. So just zip it."

The mere mention of Katze's name immediately set Manon off. Kirie muttered sourly to himself again. Katze sure does bring out the worst in him. I forgot how much bad blood there is between them.

Kirie had never seen Katze in the flesh, or even an image of him. But push come to shove, what he did know was that Katze outstripped him when it came to appearances. And in any case, he was an important man in the black market.

He'd deduced that Katze had taken that lap dog of a Guardian scion—who hadn't set one foot outside its Edenic gardens—and had smacked his pride with a rolled-up newspaper. Comparing himself to a man like Katze was sheer arrogance.

"If that's the case, then let's not overstay our welcome. Let's check somewhere else," Kirie said.

"What do you mean, somewhere else?"

"Trace back to the blue line and follow the green line instead."

For better or worse, Kirie's ability to shift himself out of emotional neutral was one of his more persistent qualities. As far as he was concerned, having come that far, he was going to discover something, if only out of sheer stubbornness. He wasn't walking away empty-handed. He had all the ambition of a self-made man, and was perfectly happy to admit it.

"I don't think somewhere else is going to be any different than here," Manon said, as he felt along the wall with his hand for a switch.

While broadcasting his contrariness with his mouth, in his heart he felt himself rising to the bait. He hated Katze so much he was willing to do anything to somehow gain the upper hand and show him up.

Both Kirie and Manon had ulterior motives of their own. They were similar in that respect, at least.

You seem to be operating under a false pretense. You and I are the same mongrel trash from the same slums. The words Katze had hurled at Manon had been laced with an unimagined scorn and fury. You are merely Judd Kuger's son. So perhaps you ought to watch your mouth.

Judd Kuger was Manon's father and the keeper of the keys of power at Guardian. Somehow, the worthless piece of furniture Katze was making Judd grovel and had insulted Manon to his face. There was no way Manon could tolerate anything like that.

Parading your grandiose sense of entitlement around only makes you an eyesore. In any case, there's no point in exchanging words with a fool who hasn't figured out that mongrel trash is and will always be mongrel trash.

The shock and humiliation and abiding indignation was more than Manon could handle. He could only resent the fact—though for completely different reasons—that Kirie had taken such a deep and profound interest in Katze, whom he considered a mortal enemy.

Upon learning from Kirie that Katze served both as the Tanagura representative and a broker in the black market, Manon was completely taken aback. He'd never heard anything like it before. His father had never mentioned the possibility.

"So that must mean there's something going on at Guardian that we don't know about. And that's what Katze has in his sights."

Manon couldn't simply laugh off the possibility. That was when the existence of these sub-level basements sprang to mind. Though he'd known about them, he had no idea what went on down there. But something had to be going on. The only people granted access were those staff members with special clearance.

In any case, as heir to the family fortune, he deserved the same access as any member of the staff. When Manon mentioned that, Kirie's eyes glittered. He wanted to know what was there and pestered Manon continuously in order to find out.

When Manon told Kirie there was no way, Kirie only grew more persistent and vengeful, and wouldn't play with him. But Manon's body hungered for that touch, so when he'd shake his head and refuse Kirie, Kirie would assault his most private and sensitive areas while his hand gripped Manon like a vice, not letting him come until he begged and pleaded and gasped for release. His endurance exhausted, the next time he said "Yes."

With that promise, Kirie paid up in advance, rewarding Manon until his loins throbbed and his brains all but melted inside his head. Kirie played Manon with his words and tongue, like an athlete who had perfected his sport.

Rejection and conciliation. Hard to get and impossible to let go. Hunger and satiation. With a single touch of Kirie's expert hands, Manon would gladly be led into hell with gritted teeth, or to heaven with the dark and quiet fury of passion.

Kirie's ambition knew no bounds. Manon couldn't shake the abiding suspicions that he was merely a pawn in Kirie's game. But knowing that, he remained in Kirie's thrall. He couldn't cut himself off from those overflowing feelings and lusts and desires.

If left to his own devices, Manon never would have dreamed of exploring the catacombs beneath Guardian. But when he was with Kirie, the guilt from breaking those prohibitions and taboos faded to a wispy nagging.

Manon wanted to know what was down there, too. And at the end of the day, the decision to visit the area became his to make, however hasty a decision it was. But if, as Kirie said, that was what Katze was aiming for, then the hastier the better.

Getting his hands on a staff ID card and making a copy was easy. After all, he was the eldest son of Guardian, Manon Sol Kuger.

Katze had insulted him to his face, but his surety about his place in Guardian remained undisturbed. Katze was a fool if he remained unaware of—if he refused to recognize—that basic reality.

But that was nothing he dared tell Kirie. No matter how Kirie coaxed and prodded, that was one stance he could not give ground on until the bitter end.

"That bastard Katze was probably just bluffing. Otherwise—" Manon started, but at that moment, his fingers brushed against something and his voice trailed off. What's this? There's something here.

"Bluffing? What would Katze gain by going to all that effort?"

"Shut up—"

"Huh? What?"

"Be quiet. There's something here—on the wall—" Manon concentrated his gaze and zeroed in with the tips of his fingers. He snagged something, got the feel of it, and pushed it to the right.

Almost instantly, a pale blue light flooded the darkness. A faint moving sound reached their ears. What they thought had been a wall divided in the middle, parted to the right and left.

"Hey, you did it, Manon!" Doing a one-eighty from a few moments ago, Kirie's voice rose in an excited cry. "Let's go."

With quick footsteps, Kirie proceeded deeper into the room, Manon following on his heels. However, a moment after racing along in high spirits, their feet came to a complete halt.

"What—the—hell?" Kirie gasped.

The great expanse of space that a few minutes ago had been seemingly empty was filled with the deep blue of the ocean depths. Lining the center of the room was a row of cylinders that stretched as far as the eye could see.

And inside them were... people. No—not people—but what used to be people. Manon and Kirie beheld a grotesque scene the likes of which they had never seen before.

There were specimens of what might be taken as humans who were cut apart and chopped into pieces. Or even the corpses of people who, through some sudden and drastic mutation, could no longer be termed people. Or even strange and precious samples from an unknown species.

"Good God. This—is—fucking—gross—" Kirie burst out. The ominous and ghastly sight brought the remark spontaneously to his lips. But then it occurred to him that the repulsion he felt was only a visceral reaction to the sight of these body parts. Losing a foot or hand was rarely considered fatal. But a person who had his brain or internal organs removed usually died from it.

The same would be thought of a human with no bones, or a body covered with numerous, tumor-like faces, or the utterly strange mermen and mermaids, or the half-human, half-beast chimeras, looking like mistakes of nature. All of these specimens were before them.

Which was why Kirie had to tell himself that those were only dissected humans in those tanks, specimens of their mutated parts. But if one of those floating heads connected only to a dangling brainstem were to open its eyes—

Taking it all in with his own two eyes, a moan escaped Manon's lips. In the tanks next to Kirie, inside a vivisected, headless torso connected to various wires and hoses, was a heart beating away. It was definitely alive.

And then they knew, both Kirie and Manon. The tissues residing in these tanks were not specimens or autopsied remains. Although they weren't human beings with any dignity of life left to them, they were still living human beings.

If Guardian was the so-called garden in Ceres, the holy precinct, unspotted and kept safe from all harm, then how could such perversions be allowed to exist? They couldn't believe it. They didn't want to believe it. They didn't want to see what they could see with their own eyes.

But they couldn't keep the truth from percolating through their brains. The grotesque scene numbed their thoughts and their limbs. Paralyzed, they stood rooted to the spot.

The fear crawled up Kirie's spine like maggots under the flesh. His hair stood on end. The desire to scream was supplanted by crippling nausea that rose up in the back of Kirie's throat. Try as he might, his body could not vomit all the fear and loathing out of him.

The stark reality ate mercilessly through their gray matter, as if attempting to devour sanity itself.