He made it to a wall made of corrugated iron and crept along it, to get closer to the shack. He peered through a gap in the wall and saw agents all around the shack and some inside. He looked to the cars sitting on the road and tried to see if Rast was in any of them. He could see only faintly through their tinted windows, but it was enough to convince him that they were empty. He crept toward the wall of the shack, careful not to be seen by any of the patrolling agents, and peered through one of the windows. The sight that met him, made his blood boil. Agents were tearing the place up. Rast’s precious artifacts were being ripped off the walls and thrown into boxes. The agents tramped filth from outside all through the house. Suddenly, Thaqib noticed the coat rack and realized something was missing from it—Rast’s cane. He never went anywhere without it. If the cops had grabbed him, would they have allowed him to take it? Other than the cane missing, the coat rack was undisturbed. Thaqib realized Rast must have made it out. He turned, leaving the place that had sheltered him and kept him warm for as long as he could remember, the one place in this whole world where he felt safe. He turned his back and ran as it was torn apart.

Thaqib made it back to Halima and Judah who awaited him with faces filled with concern. “I told you,” Judah began, “Rast is fine, he’s waiting for you at our temple. Please, come with me.” Thaqib looked back to the shack, worried that he wouldn’t see it again and nodded.

Judah dashed across the street, into the shadows on the other side, near the edge of the bridge. Halima dashed after him, surprising Thaqib. He shook his head and dashed after her, realizing that it was the only option they had right now.

Judah lead them out of East Port, up across the large highway and over the train tracks that separated his neighborhood from the rest of the city. They made their way along a service route running along the highway. A huge truck rattled by sending a cloud of smog into their faces, making Halima cough. Judah ushered them down a ledge and they entered into a drainage tunnel that ran underneath the highway. He pulled out a lamp and flicked it on. It had warm golden light that reminded Thaqib of the light he’d seen when he’d first found Halima in the harbour.

“I don’t get it, how do you know Halima?” Thaqib asked Judah as they entered into the tunnel.

“I see old Rast has kept you in the dark about many things Thaqib. Like I said, Halima came from the Veil. We’ve been anticipating her arrival for many years,” Judah replied.

“Anticipating it? Rast never told me anything about this.”

“Like I told you, Rast is a member, or at least was a member of the Order of Zion. You didn’t think it strange that he had so many esoteric items in your house? Hasn’t he been training you in cultivation? You didn’t once suspect it? How many others do you know following the martial way?”

“Martial way? I never even heard of the Order of Zion until this morning when all this stuff started going down,” Thaqib replied.

“I’ll let him explain the rest to you when we get back to the temple. I think it would be best for you to hear it from him.”

“But what’s going on with all this, who are you guys? Why are the B.C.P.D. after Halima?”

“You’ve found yourself in the middle of a war Thaqib. And right now the epicenter of that war is right here with us—Halima,” Judah replied.

Halima looked down, not seeming to like the sound of that.

“What war? What are you talking about?”

“Halima is a prophet, we’ve been awaiting her arrival for many years.”

“A prophet? From where?” Thaqib asked.

“From beyond the Veil, from our ancient homelands. From Zion,” Judah replied.

Thaqib was lost for words. Halima didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm as Judah, Thaqib could tell something was bothering her. “Zion? But Zion is gone, I mean—that’s ancient history!”

“Well, some might say that—if they were ignorant,” Judah replied. Thaqib couldn’t tell if that was an insult. Suddenly, Judah’s lamp went out. “Argh, this old tech.” They found themselves in the middle of the tunnel in pitch darkness, they could hear the rattling of the traffic above them. They began to notice glowing in the dark. Thaqib’s eyes widened. The tunnel was covered in black-light. The same kind he’d used to paint the billboard. “Looks like some writers have been down here,” he said, commenting on the luminescent glow of hundreds of murals, all stacked upon one another down the length of the tunnel. “Damn, why didn’t I think of comin’ down here?”

Although the glow from the artwork was bright, it did little to illuminate the tunnel. “Sol,” Halima said. A glowing light appeared from the disk on her chest, “Light our way.” Thaqib heard a click and a chirp and then saw a warm glow as Sol hovered past to to guide them. Their way was once again made clear.

“An elemental?” Judah said in wonder.

“Yes, his name is Sol,” Halima replied.

“Amazing.”

“What’s an elemental?” Thaqib asked.

“They’re beings from another dimension. There used to be many on Aotea but now they have become invisible to us because of the corruption caused by the Babylonian technology. The frequency of the energy has lowered, sending us out of the range within which they exist.” Judah noticed the bewildered look upon Thaqib’s face. “It’s a big world you’re steeping into Thaqib, and you’ve entered into it at just the right moment. Things are about to change around here now that Halima has arrived.”

Thaqib didn’t respond, Halima looked away.

“Come now, we are almost to the temple, the others will be impatient to meet you. We thought we were lost when Shifun and Pomo returned to tell us how you plunged into the harbour Halima, we were very worried that the Babylonians or the Shayateen would get to you first,” Judah said.

“Shayateen? That creature that attacked us?” Thaqib asked.

Suddenly Judah’s face seemed to darken. “Attacked you? You mean the Shayateen already found you?” Halima nodded. “Then we must move quickly, they will be hunting you and could appear at any moment. We must retreat to the sanctity of the temple.”

They moved into a brisk pace, making their way along the tunnel with Sol illuminating their path. Thaqib looked at the neon graffiti that had been written in black-light lining the walls as they went. Halima seemed to take notice of the art. “These paintings—” she began.

“Teenagers come down here to do them. It’s an escape, an expression, it’s one of the only places people are safe to do it,” Thaqib replied.

“You’d know about that right Thaqib?” Judah said with a smirk, referencing the night before.

“Yeah,” Thaqib replied. “Down here you can get away from Babylon and the Mako. It’s not pleasant, but it’s one of the only places you can be free to write.”

“Yes, I understand, it’s beautiful,” Halima said, enjoying the art.

Judah hurried them along. “We’ve got no time to marvel at it I’m afraid, we must continue on. We’re almost there.”

They made their way out of the tunnel and back into a series of alleyways on the other side of the highway. The alleys became progressively more crowded as they ventured deeper. Thaqib had never been on this side of town. The alleys opened on to a sprawling market district, filthy plastic tarpaulins were spread between the buildings to give shelter from the drizzling rain. A ripple of lightning lit up the plaza as they entered it. Thaqib and Halima covered their noses as the stench of the market hit them, a blend of soggy trash and the fishy odor of seafood. He was used to it though, it’s not like the markets around his neighborhood smelled any different.

They walked past all manner of vendors, first through the food section, where wafting clouds of greasy smoke and steam made their eyes sting, past tech dealers with mats spread out—all manner of electronic junk sprawled upon them.

In Babylon, there was a large market for cheap custom electronics and tech. Many people rolled their own devices, which were far cheaper and more secure than the standard issue luxury brands that the Babylonians preferred. Those were monitored closely and could get you locked up for a bad text or a comment taken the wrong way. Halima looked at it all in awe as though she’d never seen anything like it.

They made their way down alleys of hawkers selling cyber-implants and used prosthetics. Others sold strange oddities like gene-spliced pets and synthetic cacti. Halima was fascinated with it all and had to be hurried along. “So many—things…” she commented as Judah led her away from staring at a tank filled with artificial jelly fish, colors and patterns glowing—moving to the beat of a dark dub track in fractal coils.

“Where is this temple hideout of yours anyway?” Thaqib asked.

Judah walked through the market briskly, his thick robes flowing behind him. “It’s not far now—it’s a hidden place, few know of it. We’ve had to move recently after our old spot was burnt.”

They turned down another alley, this one awash with pink neon. A large bouncer stood before a sliding door of polished chrome. He wore a transparent plastic cloak over an alligator print tracksuit. Thaqib noticed a pink Uzi tucked into his pants, revealing just enough to send the message. Thaqib guessed he was a bouncer for an underground club run by the triads. Only they would rock that kind of style. His guess was right—emanating from the door was the deep vibration of heavy bass music. Thaqib noticed puddles on the ground rippling. A group of girls walked up to the bouncer in the latest Babylonian fashion—big hair, big jackets and big shoes, legs wrapped up in patterned tights, neon jewelery glowing brightly against gray skin. The bouncer opened the door and let them in, strobe lights flared from within. Judah nodded to the Bouncer as they passed and he nodded back.

“The Order’s tight with the triads?” Thaqib asked.

“Only some of ‘em, we both operate on the outside of the law, we keep an eye out. We don’t have anything else to do with them. We don’t approve of their business,” Judah replied.

They made their way into another alley, this one seemed like a dead end filled with trash. Judah led them down the back of it, the sky disappeared as they walked into a concrete tunnel. Graffiti lined the walls and Thaqib saw a small symbol sprayed in black paint—a coiling serpent hidden amongst the layered scrawl of tags. He realized this was a marker to the entrance of their hide out.