On the Columbia Front, Part 4

West of Cashmere

Columbia Front

July 11, 1913

It was all suppose to be so easy. A simple matter of a little marching and a mountain hike, and Irredeemed Washington would be American once more. At least that was how the enlisted men thought of the war. Arnold never believed it for a minute. One look at the maps of the Cashmere Valley, a valley as meandering as the Wenatchee River that flows through it, and he knew that the hills and ridges that littered the valley most certainly gave defenders the advantage. There could not be more than a battalion opposing them, but with the steep ridges, they easily held up the better part of a division.

A division on paper at the least. Far too few of the Twenty-Third were not infantry. Cavalry proved worse than useless in the face of machine gun crossfire. Those sent charging up the steep hills of the valley too often did not return to report. For the sake of the division, the Tories better only have a battalion here; any more than that, and this whole human wave tactic will get prohibitively expensive. Even after two days of shelling, which nearly exhausted to pittance Philadelphia granted to the Twenty-Third, the enemy still chattered away with their machine guns. Perhaps two or three were knocked out, but the rest kept up their fire.

At least the Tories and Limeys were not having any trouble with logistics. Arnold cursed as he crawled through the trenches and foxholes the American had built. Canada had prepared in depth to defend this part of Washington, with enough trenches and dugouts to protect them from anything short of mortar fire. Even then it would be a lucky shot that landed in the trench. Once the first shells start to fall, they just breakdown their machine guns and take shelter.

Thus far, American lines were not big enough to walk through, forcing Arnold to crawl on his belly. After a week of this, he was beginning to forget the color of his own uniform. The only light he could see at the end of this tunnel was that it had not rained yet. If he had his way, they would not be here long enough to wait for rain, or to dig a proper trench network. They would never have stopped long enough to worry about it. He poked his head up just long enough to glower westward.

It was also long enough to draw the attention of some gunner. A short burst of .30 told Arnold it was a good idea to lie low. He glanced over his shoulder, noting that this gun came from the south. In order to storm that ridge, they would first have to cross the snaking Wenatchee, again, and then climb– not charge, but climb– up a fifty degree slope. Tory gun fire brought a response from the American gunner atop their own hill. It was not much, just a cone-shaped hill that sat in the middle of the valley. Machine guns and a few howitzers, along with a treacherous observation post, all crowded the hill. The grassy knoll had its fair share of craters from attempts to take out the observation post. Seemed like a waste of shells to target the hill, which was just high enough for spotters to direct incoming artillery.

Arnold found the first of his surviving sergeants. Normally, he would look for lieutenants, but they were all killed in the first week of the war. He cursed them for getting themselves killed, and not just because it looked bad to get all your officers killed off so fast. He was forced to rely upon NCOs, which knew a great deal more about waging war than new Academy graduates or National Guards college boys. Sergeant Archer, a gruff old veteran of the Spanish War, looked up at his commander.

“What can I do for you today, Captain?” he asked in an almost cheerful voice. What business anybody had being cheerful here was beyond Arnold.

Arnold pointed west. “I need you to find some volunteers to go out there tonight and lay some barbed wire.”

“What for?” Archer broke one of the cardinal rules of the Army; he talked back. “We’ll just be leaving it behind when we push forward.” He had a point, but that was besides the point.

Arnold shrugged. “Be that as it may, Division and Regimental HQ wants barbed wire lain, and so it shall.”

Archer might be argumentative, but he was still a soldier. “Yes sir,” he saluted. He did not stand at attention, but Arnold forgave him for that. Anybody who stood up this close to the Tories was likely to go right back down.

Satisfied orders would be carried out, Arnold continued crawled down the trench to the next sergeant, hoping this war would not last so long that a proper trench could be dug.

Stardust: Towne, Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Andreas stepped out of the inn, a little worse for wear. The glass and steel structure behind him, heavily tinted from the outside, but he could see all from the inside, already took away one hundred of his dinar. And that was for two days stay! Tomorrow, he will have to drag Katrina back down to the city below. For today, he will just have to let her run around, and make sure she does not spend to much. She has no money, so naturally it will drain Andreas’s coffers.

Some of his money was already put to good use. A new outfit, a nice dark blue suit and pants, along with a white stripped shirt. The clerk called it ‘all the rage’, but that was not why Andreas bought it. Considering the other colors sold there, blue was the only color he would be caught dead in. One of the other colors in mind was exactly what Katrina picked out. Of all the colors she could chose, she went with pink, and a rather bright one at that. He should be pleased she had sense enough to buy a denim vest to go with her blouse. Most outrageous of all, she did not get a skirt, but denim pants to match her vest. For a Navenian, it was a rather radical approach. For a Tropican woman, pants were the norm. After all, everybody was the same on that island.

Andreas took a look across the hub as he waited for her. Half of this hub comprised of the inn they stayed. Katrina beat him to the bed this time around, but he did not mind. He will just have to get even next time. Across from the inn stood three houses. Each were built from red brick and had tidy little lawns. Andreas noticed many houses on the hubs of Dream City. A few hubs were nothing but apartment blocks standing several stories high. No fountain or park sat in the middle of this hub; nothing but street.

“I’m ready for another day,” Katrina said as she joined Andreas. She took her time finishing breakfast, according to her it was the first decent one she ate since they met. She did not have quite as much venom in her voice as before, but she still resented him for all that happened.

“You’re wearing that?” Andreas mused, pointing at her pink shirt. It was quite an atrocious color.

Katrina sniffed. “What? It’s genuine Dream City fashion,” Andreas did not buy it. “Besides, I’m tired of riding that Steelhorse wearing a skirt. These pants will make it easier– speaking of which, better remember to stop by the dry cleaner.” She was more than refreshed. The inn’s room offered her a chance for civilized luxuries– like a nice hot bath.

Andreas decided not to tell her about the Steelhorse, and how it would not be traveling with them to Tropico. No point in saying that, after all Andreas had yet to meet a woman who would listen. Besides, he had more important thoughts on his mind. “I’m off now. Meet you back here by lunchtime.”

Katrina looked at him in surprise. “What’s this all of a sudden?” Did he plan to take off and just leave her? “Where are you running off to?”

Andreas shrugged. “I have something I need to take care of–“ and he let his words trail off.

Katrina nodded with a skeptical eye. “Uh huh. Is this something that I’m better off not knowing about?”

Andreas smiled. “Now what makes you think that?”

Katrina sighed. “I knew it. You’re off to go commit some nefarious deed. Fine, go, but don’t expect me to post bail.”

Andreas did go, and did not look back. He was not off to go rob some bank or bump off some rival. He would rather not mention his plans to Katrina. Truth was, a flier caught his attention in the inn lobby. Somewhere in the general vicinity, a little lost dog wandered aimlessly. A sick one at that. It tore at his heart to see the poor fellow missing. ‘Lost Dog; goes by the name of Sunshine; missing since the third of the week; if you find him please call, he needs his medicine; reward offered’.

Andreas was not interested in a reward. Just finding that sick pup would be reward enough. He knew about the little guy, especially when he was sick. It reminded him too much of Gus. No, he was not doing this to try and atone for his own failure, he was doing this because it was right. Because he knew what it was like to loose someone dear to him. He also knew that the rest of the world did not care, that life itself was a harsh mistress that spent the better part of one’s existence trying to kill that one.

In the end, she wins.

Andreas took his time strolling across one of the park hubs. Only a couple of small shops lined its edge; one sold gellato, the other soda. He wondered if anyone else was looking, or if they even noticed. The dog was only ankle high, or a little taller. He seen plenty of these small canine back home. Back in Tropico, little dogs were kept to defend gardens from hobblers. They also chased off the large, and more carnivorous falconeers. Though the predatory towneforms were significantly larger than small dogs, they avoided the beasties. Shrill barks invoked pain into their heads– along with other species.

Did small dogs in Dream City chase aquatic creatures whenever they came to shore? Maybe the penguins, but the river otters might chase back. Andreas did spot one such otter near the ledge of the hub. The aquatic weasel lay lazily in the sun, without a care in the world. Andreas left that hub and headed towards the next. He was delayed momentarily by one such penguin that waddled across the causeway. Natives to Dream City did not even pay him any attention, whereas tourists talked amongst themselves at the odd sight. It reminded Andreas of an episode back home involving a gaggle of tourist and a sea turtle.

The next hub he visited was split between individual houses, at least five rooms each. Six of these houses rested on the hub, dividing it into six mostly even parts. All had the short grass lawns, something unheard of back home. If anyone had spare land, they planted food, not something as useless as grass. Well, unless one tended a herd of goats or cattle– no such animals here. However, there was an unusual amount of trees. He spotted pears and oranges hanging from several of them. The others he guessed were elms. He did not that not a single towneform plant lived on this hub, or very many other ones for that matter. Humans of all species always had an affinity to green; some speculated that the plants of the legendary homeworld were all green. Made sense, since he had yet to see a non-green Terraform plant.

Numerous birds frolicked in the undergrowth. They chirped and they sung, and a few of those flew off in a hurry. Something made plenty of noise in the shrubs. At first, Andreas assumed it was just an otter causing mischief. He did see a flash of fur, of light colored cream fur. An albino otter? Would not be unheard of, but certainly an oddity. Andreas decided to take a closer look. He stopped short of smashing through the underbrush. It was better to just wait.

A minute later, a wet black nose stuck out of the shrubs. The rest of the dog followed, a light creme colored canine with a curly wagging tail. He looked up at Andreas with a sappy and friendly expression.

“Well hello there,” Andreas said, looking down at the dog. He squat down to take a closer look. In response, the dog jumped up, placing his paws on Andreas’s knees. Andreas took the tag dangling from his collar between his fingers. “Sunshine is it?”

The dog’s ears perked up at the sound of his own name. His was a friendly one. So friendly that it was surprising somebody had not already picked him up. For one missing for the past couple of days, he did not seem worse for wear.

“Raiding nests have you?” Andreas asked rhetorically. He knew of plenty of small bird-eating dogs back home. Andreas gave the dog a pat on the head. “Come on Sunshine, let’s go find your human.” Andreas picked up the dog, who gave no resistance, and carried him away from the shrubs. He found the lost dog, easier than he expected. Now if only he could find a payphone that easily.

Less than an hour later, Andreas waited on a bench with its back towards a marble fountain, when an middle age woman approached him. She looked a little on the tired side. She lacked much of the fashion Andreas had thus far seen in the city, but she still wore a dress suit made of green silk. Andreas guessed she was a manager at one of the above-ground banks, or perhaps employed at one of Dream City’s many offices.

A bright smile exploded onto her face the moment she spotted the dog. “Sunshine!” The dog instantly responded to her voice. He broke free from Andreas’s pet and leapt from his lap. Yes, by the way he bolted towards this woman, she was no doubt his human. Andreas did display a slight smile at the sight of dog and human reunited. The dog wiggled like it was going out of style. So full of life, and his goofiness reminded Andreas of someone– one he would rather not think about.

“Thank you for finding Sunshine,” the lady told Andreas. She began to rummage through her handbag, searching.

Andreas did remember the word ‘reward’ in bold letters. “There’s no reason to bother with reward,” he told her. When she gave him a shocked look, Andreas knew he guessed correct.

“Are you sure?” she asked as if she never encountered selflessness in her life. Given the wealth in Dream City, that was not too shocking. “It’s really no problem–“

Andreas brushed the thought aside. “Positive. Just take Sunshine home and make sure he takes his medicine.” Andreas was a made-man, and did not need an award. He probably made more money in an astro than most made in a year. Well, in Tropico anyway.

The lady continued to express her gratitude, to which Andreas only nodded. No, there was no trouble. No, he did not need any reward. No, he certainly was not a generous and nice man. She went on for a few minutes before thanking him one last time and departing. Just seeing that sappy look on the dog’s face, the one of overjoy was reward enough. Well, that and knowing a sick dog would not die alone on the streets. That much less guilt to keep him up at night.

Katrina kept her distance, even after Andreas stood from his bench and continued on his way. Did she hear correctly? He turned down a reward. So this was his ‘business’, finding a lost dog. Just when she thought she figured out the gangster, he went and did something like this. She always had him pinned down as a cold-hearted killer– or at least cold-hearted enforcer. He certainly acted cold in the emotional department. Apart from those few moments she saw him with that little dog, she never saw a warm smile off his face.

Why would he go through so much trouble for a lost dog? Surely somebody would have found him and reported him. One thing she could count on back home was somebody reporting anything missing or out of the ordinary. The People were good at that. Katrina could always count on a neighbor to report anything or anyone unusual around her home. In Dream City, it was quite different. Here, everyone went out of their way to mind their own business. Katrina never imagined this city would act so alien.

Then again, she never would have imagined Andreas with a heart. She never understood exactly why he freed her from the Knight’s office. The obvious answer would be the old man-woman cliche. She rejected that; all she and Andreas did was argue. While Katrina walked away from the hub, she came across the same flyer that attracted Andreas’s attention. She read it carefully, hoping for answers. It said the dog was sick. Sick and lost. Even she started to feel sorry for the formerly-lost pup. Perhaps that was why Andreas went searching, he felt sorry too.

Perhaps that was why he rescued her. Andreas felt sorry (not to mention responsible) for her captivity and tried to set things right. Some right– Katrina was now exiled from her home as long as The Party rules, which might as well be forever. Thinking about exile only brought her mind back to the here and now. She would meet Andreas back at the inn in a couple of hours. For now, she better start looking for work. As soon as she finds a prospective position, she will rush back and pick up her dry-cleaned work clothes and try and seize it. There was no reason why she should not find work, after all Dream City was turning out to be a city full of exiles and refugees.

When night fell on Dream City, and the lights of the lamp reflect off the calm waters, the locals came to life. Andreas found the crowds much thicker once the sun sets. Still was nowhere near as crowded as the streets of Tropico City, but it was enough to bump elbows. Thus far he managed to avoid a few of the locals, but only barely, and only because he was paying attention. He did notice a few collisions involving both parties not paying attention.

He would prefer not to be out. Andreas would sooner avoid the rush than dive on in, but he allowed Katrina to talk him into visiting the theater. She still wore her new clothes, her bike clothes, and was starting to feel inadequate. Most of the women, sapien and elves, wore fancy evening dresses. By the looks of their clothing, each of them were wealthier than Andreas and Katrina combined. Katrina scowled at that– the combined wealth equaled zero plus however much Andreas was worth. Up until this morning, she would have not thought him worth much.

As they approached one of the movie house hubs, they came across a well lit bridge. Andreas could not help but look down to see the frenzy in the water. At first, he thought either penguins or otters were hunting. Neither air breather was to be seen. Instead, a whole school of goldfish caused the water to boil and froth. Andreas was impressed by some of their sizes. Unlike their aquarium kin, these olive colored carp were as big as some of the predators living in the same waters. However, like their kin, these big goldfish begged just the same.

“Must be dinner time,” Andreas said. Several fish eyed him, almost demanding he throw down some scraps.

Katrina smiled at the charming little fish. “I’ve heard stories about how fishkeepers can hand feed goldfish.”

Andreas glanced at Katrina, then at the fish, and back at Katrina. She could see the sarcasm boiling in his eyes. “Sure, and if you stick your hand down there, they’ll grab it, pull you in and try to gum you to death.” Katrina laughed, but Andreas was partly serious. Some fish looked like they would jump up and take a raccoon who might plan on taking a smaller fish.

Sure enough, these fish were accustom to handouts. Several sapiens passed Andreas and started tossing what looked like bread into the lake. Andreas sighed at the sight. They must truly be wealthy if they can waste food like that. Back home, he would get scolded if anyone caught him tossing bread to ducks. That, and Sentry was liable to eat the ducks if he saw them.

The theater took up half the hub and then some. What must be the main show room stuck out and away from the hub, floating on its own set of pontoons. Andreas wondered what was playing on that screen. The theater housed five screens, and showed five different shows. Signs sitting on the street displayed the shows. Four of them were immediately dismissed by Andreas, but the fifth caught his attention. He had no idea they made that book into a movie.

Andreas stopped by the sign and looked up at the theater. They included a promotional poster, and Andreas was trying to figure out which character each actor portrayed. He would find out shortly; it was not every day he got the chance to watch one of the greatest books in recent history.

Katrina came up along side him, her eyes scanning the poster. “He Flew In?”

Andreas nodded. “Screen number three.” So it was not on the main screen, that did not matter. “A definite must see.”

“I don’t know,” Katrina said doubtfully. She started to gravitate towards the next poster. “This one here–“

”–I am not watching,” Andreas finished for her.

Katrina planted her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t interest me.”

Andreas gave her a shocked grimace. “How can you not like it? He Flew In’s one of the best book written in the past fifty years. Only North to Oblivion was better, and that’s just because it’s the sequel.”

Katrina frowned. Figures he would pick the crime story. Katrina never read either book; neither were allowed since The Party took over. “Sounds a little low brow to me. Next thing you’ll be telling me is the genius in the Onion Seed saga.”

Andreas blinked. “What’s wrong with Onion Seed?” Andreas shook his head.

Katrina sighed. “It’s just flashy lights. Now, how about this film,” she said pointed back at the poster she liked. “It looks like a touching one.”

Andreas scowled at it. “I’m paying, and I’m watching He Flew In. If you don’t like it, feel free to wait back at the inn.”

Katrina threw her arms into the air. Was this the same Andreas who went well out of his way to save a puppy? Talk about split-personality. Maybe he just liked dogs and could not stand his own species. “Fine, but that doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”

“You might,” Andreas offered. “Especially the ending–“

Katrina thrust her palm into his face. “No, don’t tell me. I want to find out on my own, so don’t go spoiling it!”

“Spoiling it?” Andreas laughed. “The book’s been out for thirty calender years! Before either of us was born. It’d hardly be a spoiler.” Andreas heard that line before. ‘Don’t tell me how it ends’ somebody exclaims. Andreas could only snort with ridicule. Not his fault they have not read the book yet.

“No matter. I still want to be surprised,” Katrina told him. “And one more thing; I expect popcorn.”

“Whatever you say,” Andreas replied, gesturing towards the theater doors. When Katrina went off ahead, Andreas added a few words beneath his breath. “Fill your mouth with something other than words for a change.”

“What’s that look for?” Katrina asked between bites of a fruit kabob.

Andreas continued looking smug. “I told you so,” he said. Andreas faced towards the middle of the hub, towards the local fountain as he leaned against railings.

Katrina faced the opposite direction, facing the smooth waters that made Dream City’s foundation. “I’ll admit, it was far more intriguing than I expected,” she spoke the words with great effort. She did not want to admit Andreas was right– at least not to him.

Andreas loved the noir genre. “The book was far better, but not a terrible adaptation.” Andreas went on to point out many details. The protagonist, a private investigator, seemed so much more realistic than the goodie-goods seen in so many movies. Andreas could not stand such self-righteousness. If anyone like that tangled with the mafia in the real world– well it would be a short story.

Katrina was left unsettled by the protagonist. The movie was monochromatic, but not black and white. That was how life was suppose to be, either right or wrong. In her mind, she saw the good guys doing bad things and the villains doing good things. At least she thought they were villains. “See anyone you know?”

Andreas frowned. “Hardly.” The gang in the movie was part of the Marasuanian Mafia, a predominantly sapien enterprise. Golden Hammers had no qualms or disputes with them– otherwise Andreas would have woken up dead by now. “But, like the book, the movie does portray gangsters rather accurately.”

Katrina knew what that meant. Not all were petty thugs and ruthless killers. She learned that just by being in Andreas’s company for so long. Oh how her life fell. One day she was a teacher in a respectable school, the next a fugitive. She took her gaze out across the water and lost herself in thought. She could see the ancient dam sticking up above the lake. Hundreds of cars drove on the autoway built atop it. Their lights fluttered too and fro like so many fireflies.

The fireflies were easily lost in the orange glow beyond the dam. Unlike Dream City, the Port of Dreams had thousands, if not a million lights blazing at full power. It cast an eerie glow on the horizon. Only one beacon broke the haze, and that belonged to the only building visible from Dream City. All one hundred stories of it. Many lights were still on in the office. It was a constellation of lights across the dark mirror. She turned her own gaze upwards, to see what few stars shone through Dream City’s glow and the port’s burning flames.

“Sure is peaceful,” Katrina spoke softly, not wanting to break the tranquility. Aside from the chatting of nearby people, and the distance hum of autos, the world within earshot was silent. “I wish more stars were out.”

“They’re there. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they cease to exist,” Andreas teased her. He knew enough about life to realize he did not know nearly enough. That gave him an advantage over those who did not know even that. “There’s Capelleon,” Andreas pointed away from the orange horizon, towards the north.

Katrina turned her head to see the sparkling white light, the brightest in the sky. “Beautiful, yet sad. To be all alone in the night–“ Katrina knew how that felt. She was alone in a strange land– will be once Andreas heads back to Tropico. She knew she better get a job before then. Otherwise her options were grim to none.

Capelleon did make her think about teaching. She taught only briefly about the only other planet known to orbit the sun. From what telescopes and observatories could tell, Capelleon was farther from the sun, and took a little more than a calender year to complete its orbit. It also was but a fraction of Towne’s size and lacked any air. It was also deadly cold, and said to have a surface covered in coal and diamonds. For a world made of carbon, it sure did reflect a lot of light.

Andreas looked up and yawned. He still had a little fatigue left over from the great escape. Would he ever be able to sleep all that off? Perhaps, but not until he lay on his own bed– and that was a good thousand kilometers away and then some. “I think I’ll call it a day. You better get some sleep too, cause it’s going to be a long walk tomorrow.” Thinking about walking all the way back down to Port of Dreams made him wonder if the Steelhorse was still there. It was stolen once, and could just as easily be again.

Katrina looked back towards the dam, and the glowing city below. She dreaded returning to the world below. With no luck securing a job, much less finding one, she had little choice but to comply. Well, Port of Dreams was a much larger city with more opportunities. She will succeed, for the other options included much destitution. “Very well,” she said, finishing the last bite of her fruit kabob. When Andreas told her goblins made this snack, she hardly believed him. After seeing so many of the little green men peddling frozen fruit kebabs, she decided it true. They might be very alien, but they sure made some good food.

“That’s the spirit,” Andreas caught her less than enthusiastic tone. “Now come on. And don’t even think about sleeping in. You do that, and I’m going to roll you down the stairs,” he finished with a laugh. Katrina remained silent. She still had trouble telling when that man jested and when he was serious. Best not take that risk. Resigned to her fate, she took one last look around the theater’s hub and took off after Andreas.

As soon as breakfast vanished, Andreas had to drag Katrina from the inn. He made sure everything was packed before he went to bed the night before. They had so little on them; a change of clothes each, and a brush, and not much else. Andreas just threw it all into one bag, much to Katrina’s annoyance. The bag was another souvenir. It was the type of pack one carried on their back. What few youth Andreas did see wore them, and carried their school books in them. It struck him as a good idea, not that he knew much about school books. Back when he was their age, Tropico had recovered from the revolution and was still piecing itself back together. Even today there was not enough money in the schools to afford a book for each student.

Without delay or detour, Andreas lead the way towards the long stairway. He watched with little interest as the organic cityscape flowed past. He did look at a certain patch of shrubbery with a slight smile. He could not help but wonder how Sunshine was faring. Hopefully the little bugger had not loosed himself on the world again. He just did not know what was good for him.

Andreas’s next thought came when he made a close approach towards a crowd in the middle of one hub. Unlike most hubs, this lacked a fountain. It was an oddity in a city that loved water. “I wonder what they’re so excited about,” the voice was Katrina’s. Andreas was not overly curious. It was probably some showmen trying to make a buck. He has seen corner shows in Tropico City.

“Can’t be that important,” Andreas said, determined to pass on without another glance.

Katrina reached out and grabbed his arm. “I want to find out.” She dragged him back and began to pull him through the crowd. Dozens of well dressed and groomed locals parted with little resistance.

When Andreas peered ahead, he found himself disappointed. This was no salesmen. Instead of an impoverished peddler or traveling medicine show, Andreas saw a young woman wearing white robes. Her hair was a light blond, nearly matching the robe, and her face was nearly as pale. The only real color were her eyes, a piercing blue. She stood before several cardboard boxes. The boxes stood open side down, and were probably empty. At least the only one standing on its side showed as much.

“If I can have your attention please,” the robed woman called out. She lifted her right hand, and a glint of light caught the crowds attention. “Here I have one mythral ring made from white dyamascus. And over there I have several light boxes, capable of flying in a strong wind.”

Mythral– Andreas knew what that was from his magazines. It was an alloy made from iron and dyamascus. There were many theories about dyamascus, and the newly coined ‘Ultima Radiation’ that it emits, but one thing was known. The element gave its wearer or user strange powers, mind-over-matter powers. The users called themselves mages. Andreas never seen one before; dyamascus was the rarest of elements on Towne, and only one known source was a long ways west of Tropico.

Neither he nor Katrina ever seen mythral, and she heard little about it. There were rumors, very hushed rumors, that Doctor Hawk studied dyamascus and its ultima radiation. The thought of the doctor made her glance over at Andreas. His office was the one he and those dwarven gangsters raided. They took a lot of books and notes. If the rumors bore any truth, did Tropico now have those notes, or did the Golden Hammers keep it for themselves? Knowing gangsters, they must have sold it to the highest bidder.

“With a word and a flick of the wrist, I shall send these boxes flying in the wind,” the white mage declared. The crowd responded with a round of muttering, most of it skeptical to say the least. A few actively ridiculed her about the very idea of a mage in this modern day. What was once called magic, centuries before and then some, was now more thoroughly understood scientifically. It was not mystical force or supernatural power. It was but energy radiated off certain elementary particles. One even invoked Ultima Theory.

“Just because they change the name doesn’t make it any less real,” the mage called back. She preceded to chant out a couple of words. Andreas could not make out the words, but he felt a static charge in the air. The mage focused her words and thoughts, and channeled the static air into a funnel. Before the onlookers eyes, a gust of wind flew from her fingertips and sent boxes flying into the crowd.

Several onlookers ducked to avoid flying cardboard, a few were too slow. Katrina squealed as one headed towards her and Andreas. The only one in the crowd, other than the mage, who was the least bit cool was Andreas. He stared down rival gangsters and worse in his days. He was not about to jump out of the way of a stupid box. He did not even blink as a slice of cardboard flew millimeters above his head. He just stared blankly at the mage.

The mage caught her breath as the crowd reorganized itself. Katrina righted herself, trying to recompose her dignity. She looked with concern at Andreas. “Are you alright?”

Andreas gave her a neutral stare. “On please, it was just a box.”

At hearing Andreas calmly speaking, Katrina realized just how silly she looked. Ducking from a box– it was ridiculous. She experienced worse over the past week. Having survive capture and pursuit by one of the Knights, and making it all the way to Dream City, for what? To get jumpy at the sight of flying cardboard. The mage’s power did surprise her– and everyone else. Well except Andreas, but she knew he always held his cool.

While the crowd began to rebound, Andreas began making his way out of the mess. Yes, all the onlookers are fascinated by the little magic display. Admittedly, it was interesting to watch, but he had not the time. Besides, he could just pick up next astro’s science journal and read all about ultima radiation. It required a little effort to disengage Katrina’s interest in the mage. After pulling and tugging, he finally got the message through. A good thing too, he did not fancy having to carry her away.

“Come on, you can see plenty of street shows down below,” Andreas told her, leading her back down to the open labyrinth known as Port of Dreams.

Katrina took one last look at the crowd. She did not want to leave Dream City, but Andreas was right. The much large city at the foot of the dam offered a farther range of opportunities. If she could capture a job there, then she can work her way back up here. A house it Dream City, now that was a goal she could shoot for.

Katrina leaned back in cushy leather chair and let out a long sigh. “No luck today?” Andreas asked, looking up from the paper long enough to see the grimace of defeat upon her face.

“Who would have thought finding a job would be so difficult,” she muttered to him. She never had to look for one before; she was handed a position as teach in The State’s colony of Shownastadt.

Andreas nodded. No, she never had to look. She was appointed, commanded by the government that oversaw every aspect of her life. Those living under oppression had the most trouble adapting to choices. Those who were born free, or as free as one was on Towne, enjoyed it– while those given it seldom know what to do with it.

Katrina leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling. The room had a tiled ceiling, one made of thousands of tiny white squares. It was the only part not really decorated. The walls were lined with paintings, the curtains hanging from windows shouted all sorts of bright colors, and the carpet richly woven. Even the beds sported blue and white covers. Beds– this was the first room they found where one or the other did not have to sleep on the couch. That other was usually Katrina. She cursed Andreas for that; how can a man be so companionate to a dog but treat his own species so indifferently?

Katrina looked over at Andreas, and watched him knock back a drink of golden liquid. “What is that?”

“This?” he held up what he was reading. “Why this is called a newspaper.”

Katrina glared at him. “The drink!”

Andreas looked into his glass. “Rum, good old fashion Tropican Spiced Rum. Better than the stuff at the pubs back home, that’s for certain.”

Katrina just stared at him for a moment. She never seen any alcohol before, at least not so close. Rum– was that not distilled sugar? “Isn’t that toxic?”

“Indeed,” Andreas said, taking another drink. “But it’s a step up from the water back home. Only way you can drink that is after boiling and filtering it. Unless one went up into the mountains and took it out of a fast running creek, otherwise the rest of it’s too slow moving and stagnant for human consumption.”

“And everyone drinks rum?” Katrina asked.

Andreas nodded. “When they can. If not, then they have some awful home-brewed stuff, or they just boil water the best they can. Or fruit juice, plenty of oranges and lemons growing there.”

“Like Tropican Punch?” Katrina asked, remembering his fondness for that drink.

Andreas laughed. “You wouldn’t believe how hard that stuff is to find in Tropico–“ Andreas went on and on about Tropican drinks for several minutes. Katrina listened, actually finding herself interested. For all she was taught about Tropico, she would have thought it a dark and depressed place, one dominated by megalithic bureaucracies, and where the people lived in grass huts. It was a place where communism had crushed the natural growth of humanity and where mutants and defects infest every nock and cranny. She never once considered how much The State was like that, minus the non-sapiens and genetically challenged.

Yet when Andreas spoke of Tropico, he spoke of it the same way Katrina thought of home. As a happy place, a bright place and above all, a safe place. What was it really like? The tropical paradise so many spoke about, or a destitute swamp. It rains a lot during the wet season, and that was all she knew for certain. Before she ever crossed paths with Andreas, life was so simple and straightforward. There was right and wrong, black and white. Then along came this gangster and everything turned into a billion shades of gray.

“I’m starting to have doubts about all this,” Katrina said softly. Not so much to Andreas but more as to think aloud.

“A little late for that,” Andreas replied without sympathy. He was like that a lot; one moment sympathetic and the next cold and calculating. Katrina came to expect it out of him now, though it still burned her.

“This is all your fault, you do realize that,” Katrina told him, and not for the first time.

Andreas shrugged. “If I had a time machine, I’d go back and fix my life– That way I’d never come into Golden Hammer employment– among other things– and you wouldn’t be in this mess.” Katrina only stared coldly at him. Yes, he would fix his life first and foremost. “Look, Katrina, I can’t undo any of it,” he sighed with a mix of frustration. There was plenty he wished he could undo. “All I can do is set you up with a little bit of money, hopefully enough to last you until you land a job. Maybe I can pull some strings with my people and get you work–“

To this, Katrina instantly and violently shook her head. “Not a chance. I am going to make my money honestly! I don’t want any underground references on my resumè.”

Andreas shrugged again, “Suit yourself, but I am leaving in a couple of days. I got my own life to get back to, and a mess to straighten out. No doubt my people are going to know where I’ve been hiding this past astro. So you decide what you want and I’ll try to help you out.”

That was his final word. Katrina decided to just let him have the last word. She was too tired to argue. She did not even know what to argue about. What did she want? Aside from waking up and realizing the past couple of weeks were just a bad dream. She did not even know what she wanted anymore. There was just too many choices and so little time, or in case of jobs, too few choices and all the time in the world.

Now what she needed was a hot bath and a good night’s sleep. She would wake up, hopefully back home (though she was not holding her breath on that), and forget any of this ever happen. She laughed at her own foolish thoughts. More likely, she would wake up, trade an insult or two with Andreas, and head back out into the mean streets and try her luck again. She knew not if she would succeed, and that hurt most. At lease back home, she always knew what lay ahead. Out here in the ‘real world’ as Andreas called it, she had no idea. Not knowing was the hardest part.

Stardust: Towne, Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“I hope you’re happy now,” Andreas told Katrina while his hands were firm on his hips. “I missed my boat.”

Katrina shrugged. “Couldn’t really be helped.”

Andreas glared at her, “I only missed it by five hours!”

Katrina sighed. She looked out across the bay. The entire shoreline was lined by either factories, highrises or condos of the Port of Dreams. Her eyes always slide towards the north. Steep cliffs and slopes flanked a mighty water fall cascading over an ancient dam. She knew what sit up in that reservoir. The city down at sea level was a far cry from any she ever seen. Buildings of steel and glass, and factories that belched only minute amounts of smoke, they were all far in advance of back home. Even the thousands of brick apartment blocks made Shownastadt look dead in comparison.

Dozens of ships and hundreds of boats all bobbed up in the bay. Unfortunately, not a single one headed for Tropico. A few were pulling in from the island nations, carrying fruits of its labor. Coffee, cigars and rum, only the former was legal in The State, as long as it was not Tropican. The others, those were prohibited under all circumstances, though Katrina thought it pointless. Who would want one of those nasty Tropican Cigars anyway? And the rum– why was that nothing more than fermented sugar?

Andreas paced around the dock. Even these were not the run-of-the-mill docks on the Jaipur River. Not even the least bit; these were solid structures of concrete. Many had their own cranes to lift the monestrous containers off barges. The most Katrina saw back home were primarily wooden. Grant it, not many freighters traversed the river, not when rails were so plentiful. As busy as this port was, these particular wharves were vacant. With no passenger ships scheduled for the week, only a few worked the terminal.

“Ten days,” Andreas muttered as he paced. Ten days, almost half an astro. “I’m going to have a bounty on my head by the time I get back.” He hoped it was an exaggeration. After all, he did pretty much walk off the contract to spring Katrina. Sure, he had a good reason, and all the dwarves would understand,– but this was not a personal fraternity, this was a business. Hopefully all the benefits he offered would outweigh this cost. If not, then the bosses might just take out a hit on him.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait,” Katrina said in a neutral tone. She was not exactly disappointed, after all, the great Dream City lay within grasp. If they were not going anywhere, might as well make the best of it. She was uncertain what that best would be. Andreas was not made of money, and she did not even have a dinar on her.

Andreas eyed her curiously. He would have assumed her words would be ‘you’ll have to wait’ as opposed to we. Maybe she would go to Tropico after all. Andreas could not promise anything, but he could help her start over. Or maybe it was something a little closer she had in mind. After Yarasov, the two argued about Dream City and Port of Dreams. One wish to head one way, the other– well the other.

One thing was clear. No matter which way they went, they could not do it on looks and charm alone. “Half an astro– I better go pay a visit to the bank.”

Katrina looked around. She had no idea where Andreas planned to find one. Up in Dream City, that was where the financial industry lay. “You better, unless you want to camp on the dock.”

Andreas shot her a grin. “You know, I just might do that.” Not by choice either. If his bank account was cleaned out, then what else could he do.

When Andreas said bank, this was not what Katrina had in mind. At first, she thought they were going down to catch the subway. The entry was rather sparse and dull. No schedules, no advertisements, and no passengers climbing or descending. It looked closed down, though maintained with care. She did notice many of the surface dwellers avoided the terminal. Very strange, especially considering the docks lay nearby. Thousands worked the docks, surely not all of them could own autos. Those who did not, had to find alternative routes.

Once down into the terminal, Katrina understood why it looked closed. It was. Rather, it was officially closed. Rails below were long gone, and only half the lights worked. It was not by random failure either; somebody deliberately left the odd row of lights off. Dim red light bathed the whole terminal in a sinister way. Katrina felt uneasy down below, and stuck close to Andreas.

Though closed, the place was far from empty. Sapiens and pygmaeus mingled as they entered and exited various shops. The shops looked new, looked added. They were built after the terminal closed, and not hastily either. These storefronts were symmetrical, clean and assembled with surprising pride. It was almost a small town’s commercial district, albeit underground.

In Andreas’s line of work, underground took on two meanings; literal and implied. These plainly illegal and off-the-record businesses were definitely underground. Certainly the authorities must know about this place. If so, they did not appear to care. She followed Andreas through the crowds and into a pleasant brick storefront. There was no sign above the door or on the window. The only obvious marking came in the form of a tool hanging on sign post– a hammer painted gold.

The interior looked much like Katrina’s former bank, like many banks. Minus the decoration of course. This underground bank was staffed by dwarves, and they made their workspace very utilitarian. Andreas headed up to the counter. Three booths sat evenly space apart. Behind each, stood a surly looking dwarf and plenty of machinery. One was immediately recognized as a form of teletype; a machine that delivered information from afar, and fast.

The dwarf was as far from friendly as Capelleon was from Towne. A polar opposite of Katrina’s teller. He glared at Andreas as he leaned against the counter. “What do you want?”

“What do you think?” Andreas replied, drawing a card from inside his travel worn jacket. He handed the plastic rectangle to the dwarf.

The teller eyed it over. “How much you worth?”

“Plenty,” Andreas said with a smile. At least he would be as long as the account was not already closed out. “Just punch it in and find out.”

The dwarf snorted, a very common response for the pygmaeus species. His snort relayed a great deal of skepticism. “We’ll see about that.” Andreas knew what that meant. As the dwarf rang up Tropico, Andreas knew a negative answer would not bode well for his health. On the outside, he was cool as can be, on the inside– his stomach was churning. In a few minutes, he would find out his position.

Those few minutes, as data flowed from machine in Port of Dreams to its alternative in Tropico City, stretched on longer than they should. He took a couple of glances at Katrina, who seemed both bored and nervous. That did not surprise him. How many times in her life had she seen so many non-sapiens in one place at one time. This was all new to her, and if his account was dead, the newness would not last.

The dwarf came stomping back with a length of ticker tape. Andreas could not see what was on the tape, but the approving expression worn by the dwarf said plenty. “Ok, you’re worth something after all.” He glance up from the tape and took his first notice at the red-haired sapien behind Andreas. “Whose the Sheila?” The dwarf recognized Andreas as one of his own, but Golden Hammer Enterprises had no lady ‘field operatives’.

“She’s with me,” Andreas told him. “And that’s all you need to know.” He spoke up to the teller. Sure, Andreas was made, but the teller’s status was higher. Only the most trusted of associates were allowed to handle money of the Dwarven Mafia.

The dwarf frowned. “She good at keeping quiet?”

Andreas gave him a wiry smirk. “You ever met a woman who was?”

Some things crossed species lines, and this was one. The dwarf could only answer with a boisterous, and very unprofessional laugh. “Alright, how much you want?”

Andreas paused to contemplate. “Just give me a thousand.”

Katrina’s attention was peaked. On thousand dinar! She only made half that much in a whole astro from her teaching job. It sounded like a sizeable sum, but how long would it last in this city? Long enough to visit Dream City anyway. With a ten day wait and plenty of cash, Andreas had no real reason to say no– well, except to be a jerk.

The dwarf stumbled away for a few seconds. A few seconds were all he needed to crack open his safe. He grumbled to himself as he drew a bundle of bills from its safe place. “There you go, one thousand dinar in twenty notes.”

Andreas took the bundle and began to thumb through them. He simply browsed the count, not making a definitive effort. To do so might insult the dwarf, but not likely. One who worked in an underground bank was use to not being trusted. Andreas then took up a nearby pen and put it to use. The dwarf gave him two forms to sign. Just with the cash, Andreas looked over the forms. “Looks in order,” he said, swiftly signing his name. “Good day to you.” All business.

The dwarf snorted. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Andreas took in a deep breath. It was nice to be in open sky again. Though he worked with and for dwarves, he did not care much for the underground. The fresh sea breeze brought back memories of home, though not a place in Tropico looked this wealthy. Port of Dreams had half as many autos as inhabitants, not to mention radios and telephones. The auto count was not that pleasing, but still impressive. Andreas found the traffic heavy, but not as sluggish as Florastadt. Odd how a much larger and heavier populated area had better traffic flow. Then again, Port of Dreams was built with autos in mind.

“Where are we headed?” Katrina asked him, with a somewhat hopeful tone.

“The autoway,” Andreas told her. “You want to see Dream City, fine, we’ll drive past it. You’ll get a clear view from the dam.” At two hundred meters in height, they would receive a good view of everything.

Katrina jabbed him in the back. “Drive by! You can’t just drive by.”

“Have to,” Andreas replied. “The only way to get to the opposite side of the harbor is over the dam.”

Though she held on from behind, Andreas could still feel her glare. “You can’t honestly say, that after coming all this way you don’t want to visit Dream City.”

She was right. Andreas would not mind visiting Dream City. Who would not? Cities on water were uncommon, but not unheard of– but a city on a two hundred meter deep lake. Now that was something. “No, but I can say that I wouldn’t mind being on my boat right now!”

Katrina sighed. He was so difficult, so she tried a different approach. “Tell you what, you can either go there, or spend the next week listening to ‘Can we go to Dream City?’ ‘Can we go to Dream City?”

Andreas began to wonder just why he put up with her all this way. Now that she was safe, he could just drop her off on the next corner. No, Andreas decided better. “You want to play tourist, fine!”

Katrina gave him a pat on the shoulder. “See how much nicer it is when we think alike.”

“You mean when I do what you say,” Andreas corrected with a mutter.

If Katrina heard, she gave no indication. “Get a move on. I hope you know the way.”

Backseat drivers– “Yeah, yeah, I’ll just follow the signs.” If the autoway and arteries had one thing in plenty, it was big green signs with direction arrows on them. Andreas tried to shoot his own glare via the mirror, but could not catch her gaze. She was in an oddly good mood today. The fact that Andreas was loaded and she was going to her dream destination contributed to that.

“You know, just because you missed your boat, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself,” Katrina informed him. It was that same tone she used when she taught.

Andreas wanted to glare even harder. “I’d enjoy myself a lot more back home.” Not to mention joyriding while he should be back working was not a good thing. The dwarves will certainly notice his withdrawal. Still, a thousand in Port of Dreams would not make them suspicious. After all, they knew the ship schedules same as anyone.

Katrina grew a little more exasperated. “Oh, just shut up and drive.”

Andreas did exactly that. He cruised the crowded autoway long enough to spot a rather spacious parking lot at the base of the cliffs and ancient dam. The paved space stretched for at least a whole square kilometer. Though many autos crowded near the cliff, the periphery was wide open. Andreas was not to picky about parking, after all this was not his Steelhorse. Though, seeing just how many stairs they must climb to reach the top– Andreas decided to get as close as possible. Not so much for his sake, but so he would not have to listen to Katrina gripe.

He was not even sure why he put up with her so long. He long since fulfilled his responsibility to bail her out, at least that was what he told himself. Abandoning her at the nearest stop was not much of an option. Abandonment was one experience nobody should have to go through. So then what? Take he back to Tropico? She already made her feelings clear on that place. Perhaps over the next week, she might find some opportunity for herself in Port of Dreams, or Dream City itself. If so, then Andreas can part knowing he fulfilled his duty. If not–

Andreas would worry about that later. Odds were, Katrina would fall in love with Dream City and decide to stay. She was certainly in a hurry to get there. He watched as her higher pace rapidly expanded the distance between the two. She best not get herself lost. Dream City is safe enough, but the Port of Dreams had all the same perils as any big city. A made man had no worries; even if a gangster is sent to the big house, he had little worries. Crossing any of the mafia companies or families had a way of making one quite dead.

Now Katrina, a single lost woman, she could fall victim. She had nothing of monetary value, which took any shield she could wield away. Without payment or bribing, there was no telling what the common scum would do to her. The Knights were preferable; at least they simply shot somebody and eliminated that perceived threat. His line of work put him into contact with small time crooks, though mostly that was negotiating with a hammer as the dwarves would say.

Once at the base of the cliffs, Andreas looked up at the stairs switching back and forth along the cliff face. Railing at the first step was high, coming up to Andreas’s chest. Safety was a serious concern, deadly serious. Though the cliff was not sheer, rather just really steep, the fall would not be survivable. The last twenty meters of the cliff was a sheer drop onto several building roofs. He paid no attention to those buildings; they were locked up with few windows. Not a very pretty way to run a business, so they must be utilitarian in nature, such as several lieus.

Andreas took another look at the long walk upwards. He started to reconsider the whole journey. Perhaps driving the autoway up to the top and trying to find an offramp was a better idea. Only two such ramps existed, on either side of the reservoir. Both were always packed with traffic, and besides, there was little parking along the lake anyway. Dream City absolutely forbade any vehicles. It was a floating city after all, and the only traffic it could handle was of the foot.

Upon closer investigation, the stairs appeared more carved than built. They were the same stone as the cliff. Oddly enough, it reminded Andreas a lot of concrete, only tougher. There was no way normal concrete could handle the wear and tear of thousands of feet every day. That reminded him of the stairs in Tropico’s capital building. The marble structure was two hundred years old, and he could tell. Two grooves on each step displayed where countless feet rubbed away over the decades.

Katrina soon joined Andreas’s gaze, tilting her head up as high as it would go. “It’s a lot higher than I imagined.”

“We can always turn back,” Andreas told her.

Katrina frowned. “Not a chance. This will be no different than a country hike back home.” Besides, everyone else was climbing. Though the stairs were not crowded, they did have plenty of traffic, perhaps a few persons per flight of stairs.

“A journey of ten thousand kilometers begins with a single step,” Andreas told her.

It was not exactly encouraging, but she took her first step on the long climb to Dream City. One step, followed by another, and another, and another. Before she knew it, Katrina was on her way. Each step brought her that much closer, but she had the feeling this was going to be an all day walk.

At around fifty meters, the two decided to take a break at one of the many rest stops on the stairway. The area was a rather large courtyard-like setting just sticking out of the cliff. Along with dozens of tables, several concession stands littered the area. There were sandwiches, hot food and cold drink, just like what Andreas would expect from a fair or carnival. A carnival without all the ruckus. Certainly, this high above the parking lot was not a place to be playing around.

Sure enough, he saw few in the way of children. Plenty of short people, either pygmaeus or the truly alien goblins. Maybe not a goblin, Andreas was not so keen on telling the two species of gobli apart. Aside from staying out of bright lights, there was little to differentiate gremlins from goblins. The two gobli he spotted, both drinking down human sodas, wore heavily tinted sunglasses. Andreas never found the red sun, for all its diameter, overly bright.

He could tell his own companion was thinking something quite different. Katrina did not care whether the little green men (or maybe women– hard to tell with mammal-like reptiles) were diurnal or nocturnal. Her expression showed genuine disgust, yet fascination. Clearly she seldom to never saw them in Shownastadt, or The State before that. Naveina was not a place to live if one was non-sapien. They did not care if fellow humans or the gobli embraced their culture or merged into the melting pot.

Speaking of which, Katrina certainly appeared to enjoy her frozen fruit kabob. That was a goblin dish. Despite the fierce looking sharp teeth in their mouths, gobli only used those for slicing plants. They had little to no meat in their diet. They ate pretty much the same produce humans did with some exceptions. There was a spice that acted like a narcotic to them, but Andreas could not recall its name. A couple of the crops gobli grew were rather toxic to humans– or at least their livers.

Katrina was not the only one enjoying fruit kebabs. Chirping little hobblers bobbed up and down, almost begging treats off the humans. The green birds, with blue crests upon their heads, sat perched upon the guard rails. Andreas was familiar with the five hundred millimeter tall birds; they lived in Tropico as well. Like most Tropicans, he saw the hobbler as a pest. The little herbivores were known for poking through gardens in the poorer neighborhoods.

Katrina knew nothing of that. All she knew was the little towneforms were cute. Sure, all fun and games until they take a chunk out of your finger. They hounded travelers, but Andreas noticed they stirred clear of the vendors. No doubt they would give the hobbler a boot or brick for his trouble. Better to try the tourist, and maybe get a handout.

“Aren’t they just darling,” Katrina said after finishing her snack. She was too hungry to give out any free bits.

Andreas snorted. “So cute they make me sick.”

Katrina shot him a sideways glare. “How can anyone not love them?”

“Simple,” Andreas explained. “When one is poor and relies on a garden to survive, one does not appreciate flightless birds pillaging their foodstores.”

As predicted, Katrina never considered that. Not surprising. Though mice also pillage, Andreas considered the little creatures cute, with their squiggly noses and big flapping ears. She turned a thoughtful gaze back to the hobblers. After receiving nothing from her, they moved to overlooking a different table. Not only were they pirates, but ungrateful pirates at that.

After a few more minutes of rest they continued their ascent. For all of the climb, not a single shred of shade covered any stairs. They were some umbrellas covering tables at the rest stops, but aside from that it was nothing but wide open sky. The throbbing red sun hammered down on all who traversed the trail. The only reprieve came when passing beneath the first of the autoway’s switchbacks. Shade was a little cooler but a lot noisier, as hundreds of autos drove overhead. Along with the noise, the stench of exhaust drifted down from so many autos rumbling forth.

Resting beneath the underpass was a sight Katrina never thought she would see. Five trim and slim humans stood in the shade and talked amongst themselves. Their figures were a little too perfect to be natural and their faces appeared carved from marble. There was a definitive air of beauty around them, along with a layer of arrogance. Katrina’s eyes narrowed as she walked pass them. They were the rarest of human species, and the most loathed. They were elves, and by their accents probably elves who escaped from Alpina.

Katrina could not help but feel hostile. Almost all her life she had been ingrained by The Party’s doctrine. They blasted anything not sapien, but came down hard on elves. Unlike pygmaeus and giganticus, Homo aurumus wanted almost nothing personal to do with anything that was not them. They had plenty of business dealings, and hoarded all they acquired. They were a generally secretive and reclusive species, often sticking with their own neighborhoods, their own stores and own cafes.

Where Katrina looked on with contempt, Andreas barely noticed them. He seen plenty of elves back home. With half the continent embroiled in war, Tropico often seemed the safest place for refugees. Unlike Katrina, Andreas saw a stubborn and hardy people. One of the elves even had a large basket on his back filled with goods. No doubt he headed for the bazaar, probably planning to set up to sell tomorrow. He was not the first merchant to be seen either; the two passed hundreds of merchandise laden peddlers on their long climb. It was bad enough when it was one’s own two feet, but to add a basket or hand cart to those feet–

It was enough to make everybody want more road access to Dream City, but that would do little good. The bazaar atop these stairs was in no way connected to the roads. More over, no vehicles were allowed in the floating Dream City, though both shores of the lake were filled enough. Even that was tame by Port of Dreams standards. As much of his life in the company of dwarves, Andreas could not help but think of the gnomish axiom; there has to be a better way.

The Port of Dreams was now in clear view. The entire circular harbor lay out across them, offering a wonderful panoramic view. This high up on the trail, only a few buildings towered above them. In fact, only one would tower above the ancient dam and Dream City. Andreas never caught the name of the building, but it was a glass and steel monolith reaching up for one hundred stories. Even at four hundred meters, it was not the tallest building in the world. Andreas believed that honor belonged to a tower back east.

Katrina was not so concerned about the view below. That was nothing but cityscape surrounding a boat infested bay. What concerned her was the sweat building on her brow. She had not sweat so much even in the western stretches of desert, where temperatures soared to over three hundred thirty. Of course there she had the wind blowing in her hair and did not have to hike two hundred meters up a steep climb. What she wanted more than anything was it to rain.

Not too much rain, not to the point of turning the stairway into a waterslide. No, she just wanted a little drizzle and an overcast. That would hit the spot. With nothing but pulsing sun and clear pink-red sky above, it was hard to seek relief from the heat. It was worse here than back home. In Shownastadt, only a river supplied the humidity, but here– Here the entire ocean gave forth its vapors. The mugginess threatened her climb. It was almost as if the atmosphere wanted her to stay down.

After another hour of climbing, the stairs finally began to level out. No longer did they zip back and forth across a vertical face. Instead, they went straight up the gradually reducing slope. Katrina felt a boost of energy from the sight. She was within reach of the top. Climbing the stairway to Dream City was an achievement all of its own, one she would rather not have to take again. Andreas must have chose this route in an attempt to keep her from reaching the top. For some reason or another, he just had little enthusiasm for going there.

Andreas also had little money. A thousand dinar was a fine some that any average worker would have taken, but it would not last a week in Dream City, even factoring in Marasuania’s highly valued currency. Everything up there was at least twice the cost as it was down below. Tropican politicians often blast the city. Being socialist, they often sited the division of rich and poor as being geographically obvious. The wealthy live above the dam, either in Dream City or the more middle-class areas on either shore. The poor live downstream, in smog infested land– the latter being figuratively speaking. Thanks to breezes from the sea or the land, not to mention rain, pollution is quickly dispersed.

“We made it,” Katrina said as she traversed the last steps up towards the bazaar. It was a long climb, and now rewarding. She never tackled anything so difficult in her life. “Sure is high up.”

Andreas walked behind her. “Don’t look down.” Andreas glanced over his own shoulder, seeing a train of humans and gobli following him. Below, bustling city engulfed the Port of Dreams. He spotted a few autos down below, but at two hundred meters, auto and pedestrian alike looked like bugs. Buildings and housing too appeared little more than scale models. The scene was something a model-train enthusiast would appreciate.

The only down side of the view came from the glass and steel towering over the rest of the city. Sunlight bounced off the highrises and bombarded climbers. Glare from below, glare from the horizon and glare from above. Katrina was right, this view would be more enjoyable with an overcast. He did look out across the ocean, hoping to spot his missed ship. Even at Towne’s large size, that ship would have crossed the horizon some time ago.

He spied plenty of other ships; passenger, cargo and naval. Only a few of the latter could be spotted. Three of them were crammed full of towers, stacks and guns, but one had little of anything. Aside from a tower along side its left, the ship’s deck was flat. Well not flat; several machines were crammed at the aft. Aircraft by the looks of it. Tropico had one of those, but not nearly as large as Marasuania. Then again, everything Tropico had was small by comparison. If Marasuania decided to get into the war, The State would feel the pain.

With only a few steps left, Katrina smiled at the wide doorway. “Shade,” she whispered with delight. Walking out in the sun for so long was torture. Grant it, she did not burn like she would have during a flare, but even a calm sun was a harsh one. She charged into the pavilion without hesitation.

Andreas soon joined her. It was nice to get out of the sun, even if it was what astronomers called a ‘red dwarf’. Did not look that small to him, but Towne orbited close. Many other stars he might see at night were far brighter than the sun. He tried to imagine how inhabitants of worlds that may or may not orbit those stars dealt with the sunlight. One thing was sure, anything as close to those stars as Towne was to its would be incinerated. That red sun was bright enough, Andreas did not want to think about an orange or yellow sun.

The bazaar was a novel prospect to Katrina, but it was something Andreas was familiar with. Back in Tropico, many such markets littered the streets of the cities. Sure, those all were outdoors and sold only the barest of merchandise, but Andreas recognized it all. Andreas’s attention was not first turned on the stalls and blankets scattered across the concrete floor, but instead to above. Whomever built this place looks like they left the job undone. Above he could see a vaulted roof, were wooden beams came together at a sharp angle.

The interior walls, all two of them, did not continue to the roof. Instead, they reached up four meters and stopped. They were more partitions than actual walls. Three archways were carved from the walls, and none had doors swinging on them. None were painted for that matter. They were simply covered with wooden panels. A simple design for a simple people. By the looks of some, they were poor simple folk at that.

Andreas did not care much for the goods on sale. One stall he walked past had a variety of tools, all forged from steel. The fact all were made of iron alloys surprised Andreas. Iron was rare, along with any element heavier than it. Most of those heavy metals were reserved for buildings and ships, seldom wasted on tools. Besides, the metal rusts easier than aluminum or titanium. The thought of trying to drag all that up from below made him shudder. The stall next to it had stacks of wool and linen, along with already made clothing. A few lookers but he could not spot any buyers. The sounds of haggling echoed through the halls. That was a familiar sound, for he did plenty of that in his own marketplaces.

Another stall– or rather square blanket spread out across the tarmac– did catch his attention. Books, and lots of them. He knew how much a box of those weighed, and certainly did not envy the one who hauled those up the stairs. By the looks of their paper covers, the books were used, some heavily. Might be a good idea to pick one or two up before his boat came back. The trip home would be long and boring; no luxury liner for him.

Andreas found that he had to hustle Katrina along. Though she wanted to reach Dream City, her eyes wandered from seller to seller. He had to keep close too. What started as a trickle at the entry quickly backed up once deep inside. Four species of humans and two of gobli were too many species to cram into one building. All sort of merged together, not unlike the great herds across the Sevestapoli. They bumped and collided, bouncing off each other. Some were polite, while others grumbled.

The two continued until they reach the final partition. Unlike the other two, this one was only half goods. The other half was food and drink. Both could use a break, as Andreas suggested. “Let’s take a break.”

Katrina stopped, and looked back curiously. “We’re not that far,” she said, pointed to the lighted exit up ahead. “You can just walk a little farther and we can get some proper food.”

Proper and more expensive. “Fine, walk farther later. The city’s been here for quite some time, and I doubt it’ll up and leave any time soon.”

Katrina turned her back to him and acted to leave. “Well I am going to see it now.”

“Then it’s been nice knowing you,” Andreas said with a wave as he headed to check out the food.

Katrina immediately about-faced and shot him a fierce glare. “Why must you be so cold?”

“For the same reason you’re so unreasonable,” Andreas replied.

Katrina scoffed. “I’m unreasonable?”

Andreas smiled. “Glad we can agree on that.”

Katrina did not share his humor. “This coming from the most difficult and stubborn man on all of Towne.”

“That’s why I’m still single,” he said, this time a little cooler.

Katrina found herself cut off. It was hard to come back on a line like that. It was harder still to continue arguing. She knew him for only a short time, but that was long enough to know he would not budge when he believed himself correct. Whether or not he was– that was another story. “Fine, be that way.”

Instead of stomping off and forgetting she ever crossed paths, she plopped herself down at the nearest table. It was a fairly plain metal mesh table, aluminum unless she was wrong. Both aluminum and titanium were prime metals around the world. They were also hard to separate from their base molecules. That required monestrous amounts of power– which the ancient dam just happened to provide. Dozens of smelters in Port of Dreams churned out the pure metals tonnes every day.

The chair was harder than those at the rest stop. It too was made of a mesh. Katrina struggled to make herself comfortable. Too hard, so bad that maybe it was a better idea to strike out on her own. Just where she would go and more importantly, what would she do for a living, kept her from acting. She did not like feeling so helpless, not one bit. She hoped somewhere out in the city lay her second chance. Either way, starting over will not be easy.

A few overheard the two trade words. Andreas received no trouble, but a few scowls went Katrina’s way. Her accent was strictly Navenian, and The People were not exactly what one would call popular. A couple of elves glared at her viciously. Katrina was oblivious to the attention, but Andreas caught it. Those elves must be from lands overran. Those unlucky enough to stay behind were removed. Removed to where, nobody knew– though the People’s Government in Tropico had their propaganda version. It included engineering super-humans and ‘purging’ the rest. After all, The Party did desire to purge its lands of all non-sapiens. Andreas was weary about taking that mission statement literally.

After a minute, Andreas sat at the same table. He carried a plate of chips, that is deep fried strips of potato, and sat it down in front of him. He dug in without hesitation. It was alright, but not the best chips he ever ate. It was missing something, probably in the batter. That is assuming they did not just dump it in grease.

Katrina watched him eat with little delight. “Aren’t you going to share?” she asked after a few impatient seconds.

Andreas looked up at her, as if he just now noticed her presence. “First you don’t want any, now you do. Will you make up your mind?” He did not wait for an answer. Instead, he pushed the plate forward, making his offering.

Katrina took one of the chips, and examined it carefully. It was unlike anything she ever ate before. Where did it originate? What was its ingredients? Above all, what did it taste like? The latter was easily answer. She took a bite out of the chip, and analyzed the flavor. “Salty,” she commented after she finished the chip. She then tried best to wipe the oil off her fingers. “And greasy.”

Andreas nodded. “Sure is. I tell you, the People’s Pub cooks up a superior batch of chips.”

Despite Katrina’s original complaint, she ate several more of the chips. She ate far slower than Andreas, who put away the plate in a matter of minutes. With his hunger put to rest, he was ready to get moving. Time to see what this Dream City really looks like.

Katrina gasped at the beauty before her. She heard stories and seen picture, but never imagined Dream City to be so splendid. Across the bluest lake she ever saw, hundreds of floating hubs sat on the glassy surface, connected by hundreds of more bridges. She walked slowly across the causeway, enjoying every second. What was this way made from? Highly polished cement or marble? She could not tell. The causeway, despite all its traffic, was perfectly smooth and without blemishes.

Though far many more walked the causeways that climbed the stairs, the whole road seemed less crowded. Most of the people, of every species, were leaving the floating city and visiting places on the mainland, whether it be the bazaar or beyond. Only a few headed back out to sea, so to speak. By just walking down the causeway, Katrina felt suddenly inadequate. She had been wearing the same dirty clothes since setting out from Shownastadt.

“The first thing I’ll do is buy some new clothes,” Katrina declared.

Andreas followed closely behind. “Sounds like a good idea. Maybe visit the dry cleaner afterwards.” His suit had seen better days. He headed towards the city without her level of enthusiasm. He did see the aesthetics of Dream City, and certainly the design. His buddies in the Golden Hammers would certainly appreciate the level of craftsmanship that went into Dream City– even if it was not built by pygmaeus.

Dream City came into being when humans came back to this land after a long absence, thousands of years ago. They came to farm the plentiful land by the reservoir. Unfortunately, every predator imaginable hung around the giant watering hole. Though most feared man, the roadwalker was a definite exception. Those giant birds would tear apart a hut without thinking twice. In order to stay safe, let still farm the land, the settlers were forced to live on boats. That in itself was a danger, since crocodiles used to live in these waters. One will occasional wander down river even to this day, but not stay for long. They either met a grizzly end, or were scared enough to never show their faces again. Those that used to live by the dam were wiped out by the settlers.

Over the centuries those simple boats evolved into glass and steel platforms floating on pontoons of helium. Now days, the most dangerous animals in the water are likely the meter long goldfish that frenzy for food. And in time, a wall went around the mainland portions of Dream City. Roadwalkers and other monsters of the night still roam the adjacent lands, but they long since learned the city was more trouble than it was worth. Andreas tended to agree, but since he was already here he might as well take a look. Besides, his boat would not arrive for quite some time.

The causeway brought them to the first of many hubs, circular platforms that held all of Dream City’s buildings. This one did not. They passed beneath a sign reading ‘Welcome to Dream City’. This city limits hub was ringed by dozens of benches, all facing toward a large fountain dominating the platform. The fountain was three layers high, not counting the pond at its base. At the highest level, bronze dolphins squirted water into the air. All three levels overflowed with water pumped up from the reservoir. The effect was a waterfall taking up every degree of a circle.

“Simply amazing,” Katrina said in awe as she stared at the city sculpted from crystal and marble.

“Now that you’ve seen it, we can leave,” Andreas told her, though he did not carry much seriousness in his voice.

Katrina ignored him. “Now I just need to find a nice little boutique. I wonder what sort of clothes they’ll be selling this astro.”

Dream City did have a fashion elite, who liked to retire wardrobes at lease once a week. Andreas guessed some folks just had nothing better to do with their money. “Just stay away from the shoe stores,” he told her dryly. The last thing he wanted was for this woman to go off and browse the shoes. She would be there all week.

On cue, Katrina looked down to her shoes. They were once dressy, but after so much time on the road, they looked a little worse for ware. Not to mention not particularly comfortable. “I better get some new shoes too.”

Andreas groaned. Figures. At least she would not hassle him for the rest of the week. “Why not save that for another day. Let’s just get some close and find a place to stay.”

Katrina sighed, now realizing just how worn her body felt. “Very well, but I do expect some decent food later.”

“Expect all you want,” Andreas told her as he picked up his own pace. He passed Katrina before she could shoot him another glare. She had plenty of practice over the past few days. Before she could even say a word, Andreas cut her off. “Come on. I’d like to find a place before tomorrow.” After climbing for the better part of the day, he was dead tired. He was in no hurry to explore the city. Why rush when one shall have nine more days for the task.