Becker had found work with some of the guards moving crates and other materials around to form makeshift barricades at predetermined choke points. The low-level officer who hired him, one named Taribar, did not seem to mind this sudden petition to help. His group had been given this job by the warden master, but there were not enough men to do it, much less willing to do so. As it happened, Becker was the only mercenary helping them out, as the others under the employ of the merchants' coalition were getting ready for action or patrolling the streets. At four peshwa per day it was not a gmorous wage but it was not charity either.

  Much less gmorous was the prospect of handling locally fabricated explosives - small crude metal jars that could double as grenades, barrels of fine power, fsks of jellied oil. The idea was to rig certain parts of the city to explode when a torch was thrown at them. Some of the guards were thankful to have Becker's assistance, but many others resented it, seeing his insistence of handling with care a hindrance.

  One night ter, Becker heard commotion outside from his room. They were rushing somewhere off sight from his window. He went up the roof at the back of the building. As he stood there with his binocurs, he saw some tongues of fme emanate from a fairly rge building. In an instant the lower level burst out jets of fire followed by the roars and cracks of combustion. Out came humanoid figures engulfed in fme. The street was wide enough that from afar one could see the humanoid torches melt. Out of the shadows a horde of figures raced to mug those not completely engulfed on fire or steal away anything thrown to the ground. Not even the corpses were left unmolested. Becker saw all of this with the dome behind him shining from the glow of the fmes. He went to bed with his sub-machine gun on his chest, as per usual, but this time with his boots on.

  Two days had transpired since his meeting with Iku but he had not heard from him yet. Becker arrived back at the merchant-house roughly two hours before sundown, but Iku did not show up. The warehouses near the docks were being occupied by some refugees but nowhere near enough to constitute a threat, especially since a few of the impromptu militia were among them.

  If Iku had decided to be a hero and go on in a foolhardy rescue then that would be his problem.

  On the next night Becker sat on the bar of the merchant-house listening to the haka's ramblings while he drank tea when the door swung open. The keeper entered with grime and dust on his clothing.. There were two other hakas with him with damage on their shells. One of them looked like a pink floating ball in metal shaped like puffer fish skin with one eye socket in the front, communicating in bleeps and whistles. The other was a horrid amalgamation of flesh and steel. The main head was composed of a clear frame that resembled a cross between dog and bird with barbed steel wires around it in lieu of feathers. Its extremities were made of steel up to the halfway point where wires connected it to brown old sinew, gooey yet strangely cking a smell. Though the outline of ribs and bone could be made out from the flesh, it was clear that they were metallic prosthesis. The brown flesh pusted as if blood was pumping through, and in the stomach cavity the wires illuminated a 3-D electrical ball that shifted and turned as if it where a puzzle.

  Becker: I take it all went well in your dealings?

  The keeper signaled to his companions to disappear into the back. He staggered on to a chair and huffed in exhaustion, staring at the ceiling.

  Keeper: Let me put it to you like this - whatever happens to this city...I shall never do business here again...

  Becker: Never mind that. Is the OTHER issue taken care of?

  Keeper: *Huff* It's all good to go whenever you are ready. Not sure what that cy of yours is suppose to do, still. So how will we know if you are right?

  Becker: They're the most obvious pces. Come on, you know I'm no stranger to this pce. To answer your question, in a few days we'll know for sure.

  Keeper: I say - if you're wrong about all this and I hear that rogues are at the city walls, I'm out.

  Becker: Well, when you are done resting, do let me know what you found out while on the job.

  While he waited, he stared at him while taking a slow sip of his tea.

  It was now three days since his meeting with Iku. Taribar and Becker were in a small intersection in a tight neighborhood that Becker suggested could be blocked off in order to force any invaders to funnel themselves into a nearby main street where a cluster of buildings stacked on top of each other was used as a makeshift fortress - it reminded Becker of a crash between Mediterranean or Latin American architecture, and it would be here were a group of guards and mercenaries would rain hell into the main street, where any invader would either brave forward or retreat. The streets were narrow enough to pce a couple of logs studded with leftover bdes at each street with shards of gss and sharpened metal bits covering the ground.

  For now, Taribar and Becker were on break eating a light meal of stir-fried noodles, vegetables, and meat. Taribar had found these ingredients in empty houses, but was not sure how to combine them, so Becker offered to do the best he could with what was avaible.

  They ate for a few minutes in silence when Taribar began to make conversation, albeit with some food in his mouth.

  Taribar: I just hope this work is enough.

  Though he was a low level officer, Taribar was roughly above 40 years in age, but his face was aged and coarse looking. He had a thick dull brown unkempt mustache, though some white strands beckoned out in shiny lines. His armor was partially chipped across the chest.

  Becker: I'm surprised your kind didn't even think to do this until now. For all anyone knows either of the two brothers could be a day away.

  Taribar: The warden master sent a few of his loyal men a couple of days ago to scout ahead and see if they can find out anything. If only we knew more about what was happening, we could probably mount a better defense but...Oh, what am I saying?!

  Becker: You must have great confidence for your situation.

  Taribar: We should have left with the others. But no! We figured the city rulers would try to organize the popution into a militia, maybe call on support from nearby isnds, so escape was not necessary. Instead, they sneaked out with the crowd along with any one of us near the docks. They didn't even left any junk rafts - they chained them behind any ship big enough and hauled them off. The more powerful merchants fled so fast you would think there was a hoard of treasure across the horizon.

  Becker: So what of the ones left behind?

  Taribar: They all think they might remain on top no matter who rules the city. And if not, they'll just flee in their own ships. It's no secret they have ships in some underground cavern, but I'm sure they're guarded.

  Becker: You never thought of confiscating them? Maybe get together with the civilians?

  Taribar looked around to see if there was anyone nearby but only heard a light whistle from wind blowing into the streets, by now deep in darkness from the shadows.

  Taribar: My men suspect we're all being set up as a meat-shield for those merchants trying to hire mercenaries "in the name of the city." They aren't wrong, but the rest don't know what else to do. The warden master thinks he's working in everyone's best interest, but then again, he was the lead custodian of the prison. His position is way over his capacity so he leans onto the same men who would let him be pierced by spears while they run away. I bet they'll round up the civilians depending on what news they hear, put them in chains, and make them run to their deaths.

  He rubbed his forehead out of frustration.

  Taribar: I'm sure none of them trust us anyway, since we've been of SO much help in the past couple of days.

  Becker: So the warden master hasn't even thought of getting all of you guys out?

  Taribar: He would most likely secure passage for his favorites and himself. It would expin why we're only starting to set up defenses and roadblocks.

  Becker gnced as well to make sure the two of them were alone. The silence broke with the breeze swirling out of the streets and into the intersection.

  Becker: There's some short bloke trying to keep order with the civilians. He came to me with some proposition to take the ships.

  Taribar: Ah, Holstan. I've seen him days earlier walking about the docks.

  He chuckled a bit to himself.

  Taribar: The midget could barely make a thing for himself and still lives with his mother. Now he thinks he can py at being hero and save the others? I'm surprised he's not dead yet. I'm sure he means well, but even with our combined forces we won't be strong enough to take them over. I know for a fact the warden master won't stand for it, so that discards the majority of the other guards.

  Becker: And the sves?

  Taribar: If they can be made to trust us we might work something out, but I wouldn't know about that. I'm relegated inside the walls, but I'm sure there are ways to pass a message to some of the sves without being seen, that is if there are enough of them left. The savage is the only wild element in all of this. He might try and kill us all if he's free, assuming his head isn't on a pike yet.

  Becker: The way I see it, it would have to be a spur of the moment invitation to unite. So will your men stand?

  Their conversation ended when they both heard a commotion of sorts up the street, close to the northernmost main street. Some of the guards were seen rushing down east, their voices reverberating with excitement. By the time Taribar and Becker reached it, many of the guards were conversing with themselves while looking onward.

  This was the st street in this side of the city before confronting an irregur cliff that acted as a natural barrier for further construction. It was a little higher than the city walls, extending out of the city limits and a few streets further ahead. There did not seem to be a way one could climb to the top without necessary equipment. Behind it stood the sharp peaks overcasting the city.

  To the west was a minor city gate. While most of the buildings in the street were residential, the exception was a three-tier ziggurat with its back facing the cliff. It sported a wooden door in the middle and windows at the second and third tiers. On its left was a rge double door gate with a metal frame.

  Thin disheveled guard: "Lokhgo" Taribar, one of the scout groups made it. They brought one of the invaders with them.

  Taribar: What happened? Where are they?

  Thin disheveled guard: They're being taken to the warden master. They were attacked by axolo but they got away.

  Red bearded guard: Yeah, Danvo's arm was almost torn out!

  Taribar: So who did they bring?

  Bad toothed guard: 'ell, some 'oungste' o' so'ts. 'ed jacket, bck leggin's. 'in' 'is name was So'-Harach o' somethin'. 'urt in the leg, I think.

  Thin disheveled guard: Kendir mentioned they found him on top of corpses. He believes they were running away.

  Taribar: That's it?

  Thin disheveled guard: Oh, yes! That Sor-Harach boy was in a daze, speaking something like, what was it? Wald? Willow? Wilrd? Kernel...I don't know.

  Becker: [WHAT?! That daft bastard!]

  Bad toothed guard: So'y, Lokh'o, 'e didn't 'ave time to ask.

  Red bearded guard: Don't worry, we'll soon make him speak!

  Becker signaled Taribar to head off and talk in privacy.

  Leaving the guards on their own, they walked into a nearby abandoned building far away that the others would not hear them.

  Becker: Whatever's going to happen, it's going to happen fast. We don't know what that prisoner will tell them, but I'm sure it will motivate the merchants to leave. Are you sure you can trust the men under you?

  Taribar: At this point we have no choice if the invaders are attacking our own!

  Becker: That would be Harko's host. The red shirt is that of his brother's.

  Taribar: How can you be sure?

  Becker: I've heard from others speak about it. Anyway, I need yours to have something to mark themselves with to distinguish yours from the warden master's. Have your most trusted men stash as many explosives quietly, and find me some artillery piece. I don't care if it's a wooden cannon, just something that will fire rge projectiles preferably in an arch. We leave the day after tomorrow.

  Taribar: How can you possibly know how much time we have?

  Becker: If this Sor-Harach character is being questioned, they won't do it if he's delirious. Either he's in pain or an infection is eating his brain. Their only hope is to get him stabilized before they work on him.

  Taribar's face was growing dower at Becker's expnations.

  Becker: It's a guess, I know, but I got nothing else to go on. You want out of this city? Allow me this time. I'll liaison with Holstan and make sure you get the details of the pn. If I'm wrong, you can rest assured I'll be dead along with the rest. You know where to find me if something were to happen.

  Just as he was about to leave, Taribar stopped him.

  Taribar: And what about this Sor-Harach?

  He paused to think for a moment, but could not come up with a better response.

  Becker: He's on his own for the moment.

  Taribar: There's something you're not telling me. What is it? What's in this for you?

  ...

  Becker: A job.

  Becker felt an enormous weight on his shoulders as he made his way through alleyways and twisting roads in the middle of the city. The hair on the back of his head itched him. He could not get the sensation of gring eyes stabbing him in the back. He tried to keep his mind focused as to what was going to happen and how to keep himself alive. He mented he did not have wings and could just escape it all.

  *clink*

  He pced his back at the nearest wall and got his MP5SD ready.

  *Crunch* *Crunch* *Crunch*

  They were all around and getting closer.

  Eyeing over the wall, Becker saw shadows down south from where he was.

  From another building up ahead some scoundrels were carrying a few boxes with a pipe sticking out. Their other companions guarded their back with clubs and knives. Though dressed in rags, they had jewellery hanging by the necks and on their fingers made of purple tinted metal.

  He followed the ruffians from behind. Soon enough, they spilled out into a main street facing an occupied rge building. Perhaps half a month ago it may have belonged to the local authorities, but it was now a fort of sorts.

  Immediately, the occupants initiated a firefight.

  Sneaking into a building facing the street, Becker observed the massacre.

  There were a few Outsiders firing AK-47s and a few mercenaries unleashing arrows from crossbows. A quick figure rose from the roof of the building flying high into the air.

  Though most of the attackers were killed, a few managed to reach close enough to throw their boxes into an opening. As quick as it left their hands the boxes exploded.

  *BOOM*

  Part of the building colpsed, but the rest still stood firm.

  Before the bombardiers could escape the flying figure twisted through them, their corpses colpsing forward cut in rge chunks. The st one was skewered and taken along midair. All this happened without the the axolo breaking speed or flow.

  Some of the guards rushed from adjacent streets to defend the position, and in quick succession, the opportunistic looters came forth.

  The veneer of civilization had dangerously thinned if they were desperate enough to sack in the middle of the day.

  When he reached the docks, he looked back towards some of the adjacent streets and made sure there were no other shadows there. When he was satisfied, he went about the tents and clusters of civilians, looking for the short man he saw the other day. He spotted him just sitting down on a box, exhausted-looking, and wanting to rub his legs. One of the self-appointed militia spotted Becker and tried to block him with a pole.

  Becker: I need to speak with Holstan!

  Militiaman: You again? What is it that you want?

  Becker: If you want out of this city I need to speak with Holstan. Right now!

  Holstan: So, are you being wracked with guild or...HEY!

  Becker grabbed him by the arm and began taking him away. The militiamen were about to fight to free their leader when Becker turned around.

  Becker: We'll be at the nearby merchant-house. You all know where's it at. Your leader will come back ter.

  He didn't bothered to wait and see what the militiaman would do, though he figured they would not do anything given their disadvantage against Becker's weapon. They reached the merchant-house and Becker brought him over to the bar, where the haka was grilling a short sb of meat and a blue-colored bun split in half. He let Holstan go so they can sit down.

  Hosltan: *Akh* Why all the rush? You found some hoard of treasure you want to get out of the city?

  Becker: Oi! Haka! Where's your boss?

  The haka continued to tend to the food on the grill while the neck fpped backwards with the head going upside down.

  Haka: b..b..Back ter. In the meantime you have...VISitOR! He'll be down in a moment...

  While he waited for the visitor to come down, Becker informed Holstan what was had transpired and what was about to happen. He told him that the pn depended upon Taribar's men and the sves outside the walls.

  Holstan: Is this the type of stuff you normally do back in your nd? Geez, you could carve a throne out of the Realm if you wanted!

  Becker: So are these terms acceptable?

  Holstan: Outsider, you realize a number of those sves were in prison because they are criminals? I'm not sure if we'll be able to survive on the ships for long with rogues aboard.

  Becker: You and Taribar will have to figure that one out, or you can wait to have your skins peeled off to decide. Also...I'm certain that in the course of battle their queer sense of morality can be canalized as fodder or distraction. It's not humane, but neither are the alternatives.

  Holstan: A...All righ! So then, how will we acquire their assistance?

  Haka: I believe that is what the visitor...TALK! TALK NOW!

  Iku calmly came down the stairs, looking at the little man sitting next to Becker. He made his way towards towards the bar.

  Iku: Things are more serious if you're out plotting some mass revolt.

  Haka: Your meal is ready, client!.

  The haka twisted his torso 180-degrees to hand over the grilled sandwich on a pte.

  Becker: You must have been busy if it took you three days for a simple scouting mission.

  Iku: You should be gd - I spotted some potential points of egress in the walls, as well as figured out what times they change guards on the towers...AMONG other things...*puff* you're lucky she's still alive and well for me to entertain this scheme of yours...

  Iku took a bite off his sandwich, slowly chewing with his eyes closed. Becker noticed some dirt on his white top and barely visible brown stains. Whatever he was doing in the past three days he was not afraid to dirty himself to accomplish it.

  Becker: Well I hope you're up for one more scouting mission, plus something extra. This time, you'll have one day to complete it.

  Holstan: I thought you said that the matter was urgent?

  Becker took out a few pieces of paper and a thick piece of sharpened graphite, sliding them over to Holstan.

  Becker: It is. On this paper I have a rough sketch of pces I asked the keeper to leave certain parcels. And this one is what I drew based on the keeper's information. I only know about some of the surface entrances, but if this information is correct, then it should coincide with what you know. So start drawing what you know about these caverns and see what it is we are missing.

  Iku: I'll need help.

  Becker: Ask Holstan over here, if you have not made his acquaintance.

  A scant hint of fresh humidity blew from a window on the second floor down to where they were, and when the scent reached his nostrils, he inhaled it like he would never smell it again.