11 A.L.
Greg kept to the back of the meeting room. His suburb, The Heights, was too small to have much significance. His people hunted a ruined green on the edge of dark space. They collected hides and produced finished leather. No one had discovered a magical crafting method for tanning leather. It made leather the most individually valuable raw material.
His was the farthest east of the suburbs. As their children grew, most suburbs were forced to move west in order to gather enough metal and fiber scrap to survive. Warrior skills, imbuing a weapon with an element, were fairly common, but wizard skills were still almost completely unknown.
Greg knew some wizard skills. Over the years a friend taught him a variety of spells. Greg went on to teach them to the residents of his suburb. Probably the most useful spell she taught him was how to turn the lights on. This was information he did not share with his superiors in Chicago. If they knew that all the adult members of his suburb could throw a fireball if threatened, they would force them into service. On the official records he was the only one in The Heights with awakened magic. He was a simple tier one warrior.
Once all of them knew some magic, the dying stopped. The light spell allowed them to live and work in the dark region. The threats from animals were minimal there. The most dangerous animal in the ruined green was a boar. Any two of the adults in the settlement could bring one down easily. They were large animals that produced a thick leather perfect for armor. His eldest son, Bill was ten years old and starting to learn magic himself.
“Our bronze collection is down thirty percent,” a suburb leader reported. “I believe a square further west is scavenging in our territory.” Two other leaders reported similar decreases. Darien’s secretary Michael marked the location of the complaining suburbs on a map drawn directly on the conference room wall. The map showed Chicago downtown in the center, with Londontown to the southwest. Darkspace, with its ruined greens, ran along the eastern edge.
Chicago was organized as a set of roving bands which traveled the halls, clearing rooms and gathering raw materials for crafting. Downtown was a secured section of halls that housed the crafters that processed those raw materials into the weapons, armor and consumables needed to survive the halls. Chicago was located in a network of hallways and rooms with only three ways in. One of those ways was the northern stair, which led down to the same level as a nearby green. The access was just far enough to keep the dedicated crafter types from wandering into the Green, but close enough to supply fresh food to the leadership.
“I will send a survey in that direction to identify the size and location of the settlement,” Darien declared. “In the meantime, every suburb from here,” Darien said, indicating the locations on the map, “down to here needs to shift south.”
“I don’t think I can,” the southernmost suburb leader argued. “The beasts get thick south of my location.” He rose from his seat to point to a location beyond the edges of the map. “There is another green here,” he explained, “that is filled with bears. They can be found in the halls at night. It takes at least six of my hunters to defeat a bear. If I shift any farther south, I am going to start losing residents.”
“We need to push the blues back.” This advice came from a stand-in for an actual suburb leader. The suburb changed its name a year or so ago to Redfalls. Greg couldn’t remember the leader showing up for any of these meetings in person recently.
“Once we find the square, we’ll know where they are coming from,” the surrogate representative observed. “We can set up border stations and charge a tax for anyone to pass.”
“Are you volunteering warriors for the enterprise, Ian?” Darien asked. “My own men are stretched thin.”
“I need to consult with Kyle for how many warriors we could spare but I can pledge my own efforts as a wizard for this effort,” Ian responded. Greg didn’t like the sound of that. A murmur went around the room. The thought of fighting alongside a wizard made people bold.
Michael executed a roll call, asking each suburb how many men they could volunteer. All the suburbs that complained of decreased salvage pledged two or three warriors. There was a scattering of other volunteers from across all the suburbs. All together the pledged number of warriors was nearly one hundred. That amount was a clear indication that the suburbs were for this course of action. Darien bowed to the pressure in the room and agreed to organize a series of patrols to push the blues back.
Soon after everyone who didn’t pledge men in support were dismissed while the details were worked out. Greg shuffled out with the rest of the back wall suburb leaders. They adjourned to a neighboring room where snacks were laid out on a beautiful table constructed of polished wood.
Greg was impressed with the table. It was the kind of high craft his suburb could not afford. The food was less impressive. His suburb ate well off the produce of the ruined green. He noticed that several of the other back wallers were partaking heavily from the offerings. One man was slipping portions of fruit into a leather pouch at his belt.
“Hey Stan,” Greg said to him. Stan was the leader of Northbrook. The suburb didn’t have access to a greenspace. It was located below and south of Chicago. Its name came from the first location they settled. It was a water source that was a broken pipe in a wall that fed a stream of water that flowed down a hallway where it disappeared down a floor vent.
“Greg,” Stan returned the greeting. Greg never saw the brook. The water source went dry years ago, but Stan didn’t change his suburb’s name. Greg thought about the suburb that recently changed its name to Redfalls. Did they find some kind of large volume flow from above?
The Heights name came from the fact that it was positioned above Chicago. They moved as close to darkspace as they could trying to keep their children alive. The salvage pickings might be slim, but there were also less animals.
“What do you think about pushing the blues back?” Greg asked. Greg took a bite off his plate. The plate was a cut section of wood. The Heights used stiffened leather squares.
“I’m all for it, if it means my group gets more room. I doubt it though. The profits will go to the volunteers,” Stan replied.
“This time it was volunteers,” Greg commented. “I am worried next time it will be mandated. My hunters won’t fare well against warriors. I dare not go myself. My entire suburb stays close to the rest when I am not there and our production suffers.” This wasn’t really true anymore. It was true at one time. Greg knew that if it was discovered his suburb was doing better, their taxes would increase, so he always described his suburb as it was in the early days.
“I don’t think it will come to that,” Stan responded. “The blues will shift farther west. The wild is much less dangerous to them since their children stay in the square.”
“I hope so,” Greg responded. Stan slipped another apple into his bag as Greg ate some sort of pastry. He wondered where downtown Chicago was getting the flour. It didn’t taste like the tuber based version in his suburb. “These pastries are really good,” he observed. “I wonder what they make the flour out of.” Stan put an entire pastry in his mouth and barely chewed it before swallowing.
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“That’s fine flour. It’s made from vendor grain,” Stan replied. “A trader runs by my place every other year or so and tries to sell me some. He always wants too much.”
“I didn’t realize the vendors sold grain,” Greg observed.
“Not all of them,” Stan observed. “The trader always tells me it is a rare and valuable product, although that might just be his salesmanship.”
The rest of the group of suburb leaders came into the room, the planning complete. Greg wondered how much tax they would end up collecting from the border stations. He knew that unless he volunteered warriors or hunters for the push he was unlikely to ever know.
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The trip back to the suburb was much faster than the trip to downtown. Greg and his two companions were no longer loaded down with the heavy bundles of cured hides. As they drew near the area of the settlement the halls remained unfamiliar. This happened before on earlier trips. The structure remodeled sections of itself on a fairly regular basis. Normally it didn’t happen in occupied areas. The settlement must have moved several days ago in order for the area to change. They would have to sweep the area looking for the new settlement location.
Greg and Sharl agreed to try to find something closer to the green the next time around. Greg’s party decided to walk through the old location to the green, before they began their search.
“Light ahead,” one of his companions commented. Greg slowed, they were far into the dark zone. He shifted the hold on his spear so that it was ready to use. The three of them proceeded with caution. They could not just bypass the light since it might be their suburb, or someone from it. They rounded the corner to find a woman sitting against one of the walls in the center of a straight section of hallway. She was dressed in green. A long black walking stick leaned against the wall next to her.
A pile of cut leather was laying at her side. She held a sliver of boar tusk in her hand that she was using to carefully punch holes in the leather. She pushed a length of sinew through the hole to sew the two pieces of leather together.
“Irene,” Greg said in surprise. Irene usually showed up twice a year, but last year they didn’t see her at all.
“Ah Greg, there you are,” Irene responded calmly. “The protection crystal in the rest failed, so Sharl moved everyone down to a new rest just off the green. I volunteered to wait for you.” She greeted Greg’s companions by name. They hung back a small distance, keeping an eye out for trouble.
“You didn’t need to. We would have found them eventually,” Greg responded.
“Sharl helped me tan this leather, so I owed her,” Irene explained.
“It is good to see you,” Greg said to her. “I was worried when we didn’t see you last year.”
“Sorry about that,” Irene responded. “I got caught up in something. Life on this planet is never very predictable.” Irene tucked the sliver of boar tusk into a small bag on her belt. She rolled up the pieces of leather and tied them with a section of integrated rope. She tied it in two places, leaving a kind of handle in between.
“When did the remodel happen?” Greg asked. He thought it was interesting that Irene said ‘on this planet’, almost everyone said ‘in the structure’.
“Two nights ago,” Irene said as she rose to her feet with the help of her staff, swinging the roll over her shoulder. “I spent the night in the suburb and when I came back it was totally changed. I’ve never been that close before. It was rather surprising.”
“I’ve seen it a couple times,” Greg responded. “It never loses its oddness.”
“We better get moving,” Irene said, stepping out to lead the way. “Sharl was getting worried about you. She said you were a couple days overdue.”
“She forgets how far we actually are from Chicago these days,” Greg said as he followed Irene. “I keep considering dropping out from the suburb agreement, but then I would have to negotiate with a square somewhere. Most of them are dominated by blue wizards and don’t care for us reds.”
“Too true,” Irene said with a sigh, “although I can’t figure out exactly how that happened. I know it started with the healer in Londontown, but from there I am clueless. There is a red dominated square far to the north. It is far enough away that you would need to relocate.”
“Is there?” Greg asked. “At the meeting in Chicago it came up that there must be a square north of Londontown that is scavenging some of the northwestern suburbs’ territory.”
“That would be Paris,” Irene said casually, like everyone knew that square. “It is blue affiliated. I was talking about Moscow. It is four or five green spaces north and forty or fifty stories down.”
“That is far,” Greg commented. “I don’t think Sharl would like the idea of living that deep in.”
“You could always look for a square of your own,” Irene commented. “I wouldn’t go south. The… difficulty increases very quickly when you go in that direction, but both west and north are well within your abilities. If you stay high, I don’t think you would run into anyone.”
“We are happy enough as we are,” Greg responded. “If things change I will remember your advice.” Greg considered his own words. He thought about Chicago's idea of imposing a tax on the use of their territory and their call for volunteers. That was an indication of change and he wasn’t certain he approved of it.
“Chicago is planning on putting up tolling stations at the border to Paris,” Greg told Irene. He thought with how much traveling she did, she should be warned. He used her name for the new blue square.
“Really?” Irene said. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing that before. How much is the toll?”
“Maybe toll is the wrong word. It was described as a tax for using their territory. I didn’t hear any figures. Since I didn’t volunteer warriors to man the stations I wasn’t invited to the planning meetings later,” Greg explained.
“I’ll have to keep a watch out for them,” Irene responded. She led them to a stairwell where they climbed two floors. They traveled a series of hallways in the general direction of the green, until reaching another stairwell. Irene led the way up, stopping when they reached the first landing.
“There is access to the green just down the hall to the south,” Irene said pointing in that direction. “The rest is up two stories and to the east,” she explained, before moving up the stairs. Depending on how far it was to the east, this could be the closest rest they ever found to the green. They were at the east end, indicated by the complete lack of working lights. Irene was throwing light spells in front of them as they walked. Her actions were so automatic Greg wondered if she was even aware she was doing it.
It was a very short distance to the east from the stairwell to the next intersection. Greg could hear the voices of his suburb. Greg and his two companions picked up their step, happy to be home. Irene laughed at them and stepped out of the way. Sharl appeared from a side corridor. Greg swept her up into a hug.
“You’re late!” Sharl said to him after he released her.
“No I’m not,” Greg told her. “Although I would have been if Irene didn’t bring us.”
“Isn’t it great?” Sharl told him, turning to wave at the rest proper. The rest was located at a dead end against the wall of the green. The view out of the glass was beautiful. With all of Greg’s attention on Sharl and he didn’t even noticed it. It was nice. As he took a moment to appreciate it, Sharl continued to tell him the features of this location.
“And,” Sharl said at the end of her listing, “there is a public sanitation facility just down the hall.”
“Really?” Greg said. “That is a bonus. How did you find it?”
“Irene told me about it,” Sharl explained. “She said she slept in it on the way. She showed up after the crystal failed and we were looking for a new place. She didn’t know about the sanitation facility. We only found it after we started clearing rooms for our stuff.” Greg remembered Irene saying something about Sharl helping her tan the leather she was working with. They must have used the pools in the sanitation facility.
“When did the crystal fail?” Greg asked. “It sounds like I missed a lot.”
“The morning after you left,” Sharl explained, “and you are late.”
“No I’m not,” Greg insisted. “Chicago is just a lot farther away than you remember.”