Judah brought Thaqib back to the training grounds. Thaqib was surprised to find them empty.

“Where is everyone?” Thaqib asked.

“Breakfast,” Judah replied.

They traveled down the far wall to a corridor that led toward a large chamber. As they approached, he heard a cacophony of voices and upon entering, saw rows of students sitting upon large woven mats. Large circular platters covered with some kind of food lay between the rows.

The students ate with their hands, using bread to scoop up the food, each group sharing and eating from the same metallic platter. He counted five rows in total, guessing there were at least twenty students sitting at each. Another line of students was busy in the back, washing dishes, while others stood drinking from a large metal cannister mounted on the wall.

“Come, take a seat,” Judah said, sitting in an open space. Thaqib sat down beside him. A student with short locks like his own smiled and pushed out his elbow, Thaqib tapped his own against it and nodded.

“Shahid,” said the Student.

“Thaqib,” he replied.

“Here,” Judah said, handing him some bread. “Enjoy.”

“What is this food?”

“It’s made of hydroponic vegetables we grow down here. Pumpkin, peas, whatever we got that’s ready.”

“Looks good.” He was starving and had to do all he could to hold him self back from diving face first into the platter. He scooped some bread into the dish and felt his tongue explode with incredible flavor. After he’d swallowed however, a sensation like burning swept through his mouth and body. He began to sweat and his eyes watered.

Judah smiled, seeing Thaqib’s face turning red. He yelled out to one of the students by the drink cannister and was handed a cup that Thaqib drank from hastily.

“You’ve never had chili before?” Judah asked, “Gets the vital energies pumping. Good huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, not sure if it was good or not.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” One thing he was sure of, this food was nothing like he was used to. There was a lack of oil and salt. Up above, he usually just ate noodles boiled in water or toast. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever eaten a vegetable before that hadn’t come dried in a plastic noodle packet.

“You grow food down here?” Thaqib asked. Judah nodded. “But how?”

“One of the things we’ve held onto from the old ways is their knowledge of growing, of gardening. Herbs and food play a vital role in cultivation.”

“Huh? You mean you gotta eat this food to cultivate?” Thaqib asked.

“No—anyone can cultivate, even someone with no food at all. But think of it this way, If you had to carry a bag up a hill, would it be easier if it was empty or filled with rocks?”

“Empty, of course,” Thaqib replied.

“Food can be a help or a burden, put the wrong stuff in and its gonna weigh you down. Put in the right stuff, it’ll pump you up. Its hard enough to get control of ourselves, the simplest thing we can do to alleviate that difficulty is to watch what we put inside.”

This was all news to Thaqib, he and Rast didn’t really have a choice of what to eat. They just ate whatever was at the market that they could afford. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a vegetable for sale. What they ate was usually packaged and instant.

For the next hour, Thaqib sat chatting and eating. Thaqib became used to the taste of the food and realized he’d never felt so satisfied with a meal in all his life. When they’d finished eating, he’d sat together with Shahid and some of the other students on mats in the corner of the room, drinking tea from tiny cups and a teapot made of glazed clay. The students told him what it was like living in the temple, the problems they had with the Babylonians and the B.C.P.D. He couldn’t believe these were the terrorists he’d heard about.

For the first time in his life, Thaqib began to feel comfortable, like he was among friends in a world that was accepting and inviting. Had it really been here under the streets all this time? Is this what Rast had left to raise him?

“Judah,” Thaqib asked. “Do you know why Rast left the Order?”

Judah’s face turned serious. Quietly, just between the two of them he spoke. “All is not as well as it seems here Thaqib. Some of the elders have begun to forget the ancient ways. They’ve started to stagnate. Our cultivation and strength are only a shadow of what they once were. Being trapped down here in the dark for so long has started to weigh heavily upon us. I think Rast wanted something different for you. He wanted to teach you in the proper way, the old way. And he wanted you to learn from life, real life not the stagnated approximation of it down here. These students may seem very developed to you now, but I’m afraid their growth is stunted by being trapped down here away form the world, not having to deal with the myriad of problems one must face there. Because of this you have an advantage that they do not have.

“An advantage?” Thaqib asked. “All my life I’ve felt like I didn’t belong, like I didn’t know where I came from. But now that I’ve seen all this, it seems like what I’ve been missing all along.”

“The time you’ve spent living up there has been valuable. You’ve lived up there in the dark and you’ve chosen not to become a part of it. That means more than you know. These students were born here, they’ve never had to choose to follow this path or any other, it was determined for them. And because of that, the depth they can reach is limited, because their coming to the path was through external means rather than an internal one like it has been for you.”

Thaqib thought about this, he didn’t know whether he liked that answer, he preferred to think of these students as living some charmed life, one that he could have only dreamed about until he’d come here and seen it. To know that even this world was not perfect and had its problems disturbed him.

“Come,” Judah said. “I think it’s time we met Rast and headed to the temple.” Thaqib nodded, wondering now what he would say to Rast. He felt like a fool, he’d wasted so much time in doubt. He decided now was the time to change that, to walk a new path.

***

Abbas stared out of the helicopter at the rain-streaked sky above the spires of Babylon City. He hated it. Hated that he was but its pawn. Moved around wherever Datura pleased. He hated the feeling of insignificance, like he was but a small part in the machinations taking place. He wanted more, he wanted this city to bend to his will. To use it as his own. His fingers dug into his legs, fingers flexing beneath the black synthetic leather of his gloves. He sneered, a white fang revealing behind his dark gray lip. His hand began to shake. He snatched it with the other, restraining it. He removed a pouch from his jacket and took a blue vial of Vril from it. He lifted up the silver pony tail that hung over his neck and plunged the vial’s needle into the pale flesh marred by hundreds of dark gray marks.

He hissed as the Vril entered his medulla, eyelids fluttering, irises momentarily glowing with the blue light of Vril. He threw the discarded vial to the ground and lifted his hand which was now steady. He flexed it into a fist, the tight synth-leather squeaking as it tightened. He looked out the window again and saw the chopper had almost arrived. The Spire pulsed with green electricity as the chopper rose through the cloud cover to meet its peak. Soon it found the helipad which jutted from its side and landed.

Abbas made his way out of the chopper and onto the landing, the wind was fierce, rain lashed the steel walkway, below him clouds swirled, mist moved quickly by, obscuring any hint of the world below. He pulled the hood of his long coat up and hurried into a dark tunnel.

The inside of the Spire’s uppermost chamber was dark, black-light made the walkways glow blue-edged white. Guards in royal armor peered from the shadows, their armor’s neon trim giving them the appearance of skeletal phantoms.

He came upon the large ornate door of the inner sanctum. Ornate patterns shimmered upon its surface. A guard swiped a hand before a laser that danced within a dark panel and the door hissed and slowly opened like unfolding flower petals. He made his way inside, to a corridor lit with red light, floor obsidian black, polished to sterile perfection.

He entered the final chamber where a dark throne stood in the center of a circular chamber that faced massive windows looking into the clouds beyond. A holographic overlay showed the view beyond the clouds, an all seeing perspective of Babylon City and the Veil which lay beyond. Abbas halted his step before he could see who sat upon the throne.

From the dark, a voice of impossible age spoke like the cracking of ancient stone. “You’ve located the one from the Veil?”

Abbas dropped to one knee, bowing his head to the ground. “Yes, my Lord, Shifun has informed me of their arrival. A girl named Halima. She was found by the boy on the barge and then somehow the Order made contact with them. I suspect the boy had Order connections based on what we found at his dwelling.”

“How could it be that the Order found her when our vast resources could not?” the voice crackled in the dark.

Abbas felt the accusation in Datura’s voice. “There is something about the boy, I cannot put my finger on it. I believe he has trained in cultivation.”

“What does it matter? You had everything you needed to find her and yet you failed.”

“Master, we have her now. All we must do is retrieve her and the secrets she holds of traversing the Veil will be ours,” Abbas said.

“No, the risk is too great. She must be eliminated. We are on the cusp of our final stage. I will not allow it to be threatened.”

Abbas’ eyes darted in shock. “Eliminated? Master—but the knowledge she must possess!”

“Silence! Our benefactor is the ruler of this world, when he is made flesh, our knowledge will be infinite and our control absolute! This threat, no matter how insignificant must be wiped out,” Datura boomed. “I know you harbour a secret desire Abbas. Don’t make the mistake of believing you can fulfill it. You are a useful servant, content yourself with that.”

A stab of anxiety jabbed within Abbas’ chest. What did Datura know about him? How could he know, he’d been careful. He thought it best to push the issue aside before Datura inquired further. He was not ready to face him. Abbas’ hand flexed into a fist, his teeth grinding in frustration. “Yes my Lord, I will see it done.”

“The time for restraint is over. I want that temple leveled flat along with everyone in it!” Datura hissed.

“My lord, the temple is underneath a populated market district. It would mean countless deaths.”

“Did you not hear me? I want it leveled—now before the one from the Veil can escape!”

“Of course my Lord,” Abbas said, rising quickly and leaving the chamber.

Once upon the chopper he quickly flicked open his comm device as the craft dropped from the Spire’s peak into the blinding fog of clouds. Shifun’s corrupted visage appeared. “I await your instructions Master,” he said mechanically.

“The temple will soon be destroyed. Make sure the girl gets out, alive. Do not loose her when she does.”

“Your will is my command,” Shifun replied as his visage faded.

Abbas closed the comm and stared out the window as they descended below the clouds. As city appeared before him, his eyes narrowed in contemplation.