Chapter 2

Getting up and down was relatively easy from the first level down to the sixth; stairs, ramps and moving platforms were common and easy to find. Every major corridor had plenty of choices, and the stairwells were relatively well lit. Below the sixth level, randomness and murky purpose intervened to create a maze of walks, tunnels and runs than ran hilter-kilter throughout the Temperdis.

Folk history says that the Upstairs people built the first six levels, but the denizens of the Temperdis continued to dig further down, despite protests from above. The same unwritten history claims that there are ten levels in the Temperdis; yet, there are plenty of clues and rumors to keep the curious guessing just how many more undeclared levels there are underneath that. Each level deeper is that much darker and more dangerous.

Benni knew that Dember, his heart-friend, was acquainted with what lay beneath all of the unspoken layers. Dember worked down there, though he spoke little of what he saw.

Benni was standing at the gate to his family enclave, which was little more than a dead end street on Level Eight. A Level Eight family wasn't near the top of society or even comfortably in the middle of the heap. However, any family was a huge step above the freebies, who had little hope of living a long life in the Temperdis.

Having children was one of the greatest achievements in the Temperdis. Such an accomplishment required a large family safely housed with a large, wealthy enclave. The Temperdis replenished its ranks, though the costs were incredible. One of the terrible costs was the lack of nuclear families.

Benni's family wasn't his blood kin. That family, which had been a part of Family Roderick, had long since gone their separate ways. His father had died in a stimstick turf war a few years back. He had been an aggressive go-getter, gambling on rising in that lucrative trade. His mother was shift manager at a fun bunny club up on the third level. Mother and son kept loose tabs on each other, but she wasn't going to give him any discounts, and he wasn't going to give her any of his forged stock. His siblings? He was the youngest, and they were long gone by the time he was old enough to understand. He doubted that he would even recognize any of them.

His family was his den mates. Den mates watched out for each other, tended to everyone's needs, and made each other feel at home. They pooled their slugs to hire guards, and negotiated rates with the landlord. They fought off other families that encroached and took revenge when one of them got attacked. They kept the worst cruelties out. Family loved you when no one else would. Not quite as bonded as heart-friends, family came a close second for Benni, but not always so for others who were willing to toss away kinship in one family for a more lucrative offer.

The seeker materialized at Benni's elbow with a smirk on his face. Benni stayed his reflexes, barely, but the guards were not amused. They pursed their lips and considered their options for later dismemberment. A slight bow at the waist by the seeker let all know he was merely showing off his skills of skulking, giving them a demonstration to advertise for future contracts.

"Safe-be," Benni said.

The seeker held out his hand palm up, waiting for the slug, "He took a bad stim. He's alive: Flager's." The seeker stepped back into the corridor, and disappeared among the travelers.

Flager's was one of their usual haunts: part bar, stim lounge, and game pen. Benni left word with a den mate, and took off at a brisk trot. The street seemed edgy tonight, as if waiting for something. Benni had no clue as to what might have raised the agitation and wondered if he had somehow unlinked from the gossip chain. He ducked down a Family Khan street, one of the biggest families on Level Eight, flashing the proper color coded tab on his neck chain to the guards. Family Khan armed their guards well, which made this short cut one of his better purchases. At one time he had been interested in Joyda of the Khan, but she had no interest in being his fuck bunny. She liked richer and better connected; as a Khan family member, she had choices.

He greeted those he knew, and remained carefully polite to those he didn't. Benni supplied documents for shipments heading Upstairs from Family Khan, which gave him a certain grudging acceptance. An acquaintance among such a family was always a good move. He emerged on the other side of the Khan Enclave, and with two more turns, he stepped out of the shadow of one of the darker alleys to the front door of Flager's. A steady stream of customers came and went.

Benni stepped in and placed all four of his knives in a bin, which he traded for a number tag he clipped to his neck chain. No weapons were allowed in Flager's, and anyone who stepped into the scanner still holding one was dead before their other foot stepped through. In case there was a rush on the place, the hostess held a deadman's switch in her left hand. Flager ran a strict establishment: hands, feet, teeth, elbows — all were acceptable weapons until the bouncers laid their hands upon the combatants, tossing them out the door with forfeiture of their deposited weapons.

"Dember?" Benni queried the pretty hostess, whose bodice made it clear that her assets were large and presentable. Everybody wanted her and nobody ever got her, so Benni didn't even try to flirt.

"Three," she said, "and he has to be out in thirty minutes. Flager said."

"Understood," Benni acknowledged as he turned on his heel, dodging through the crowd to the far corner where Flager had set up five booths for private encounters. There was barely room for one small mattress in each booth, but they served their purpose.

Dember looked like rotted yeast ferment, complete with a sallow cast to his skin. He was blond with the well-built arms and shoulders of someone who was engaged in portage or construction work. Temperdis dwellers tended to be lean and compact, which meant the blond man stood out in the corridors. A bit of drool dripped down the side of his face.

"Sorry, man," said one of the bouncers who came over. "He had a bad stimstick last night. Doc gave him an adrenaline shot, and said he was going to survive. Flager gave him the day to rest in the booth gratis."

"Thank you," Benni said minding his manners as the bald man towered over him. "Would you help me lift him up to his feet?"

Together they got Dember standing, which was enough activity to get the drugged man to open his bloodshot eyes. When Dember began to moan and bitch, Benni felt relieved. Together they stumbled into the main room with Benni holding his heart-friend steady. Benni scanned the faces looking for a family member to help him lug Dember home. A tap on his shoulder alerted him that family had arrived.

Eighth level had enough dark passageways to give a healthy person pause before proceeding, even though the public ways were jammed with people. With family watching their backs, literally, Benni got Dember back home even though he staggered a few times, and lurched into several walls and passersby. Once they had staggered into their small enclave, other family emerged to assist Dember to his bed. He fell into a genuine sleep, complete with snoring.

Dember had a real blood sister, whom he had brought into the family. She was about three cycles younger than him and they didn't share the same father. Her hair was black to his blond, and she was shorter. Benni had always treated her as family, but as nothing more. All three had known each other since their earliest years, but Benni and Shasa tended to ignore each other; their connection to each other was through Dember. She had rushed to Dember's room when Benni had arrived, giving a passing welcome to Benni as was typical.

After a brief inspection she emerged from Dember's room, and made a beeline to Benni who leaned with his back against the wall and his head bowed. Benni had seen the puncture wound over his heart-friend's heart. He had known at that first look that his friend had almost died at Flager's. He was supposed to be inured to such loss, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dismay.