Kaleb landed on a walkway some distance from the main settlement of Arbistrad and lowered his mask. He had to land before the cables and wires grew too thick for him to manoeuvre with his wide wings. The thick covering of organic life was not present close to the town, but it was still damp and humid. This mist here felt thick, and clung to his skin. The settlement itself was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

It shimmered with a thousand points of light, flickering as people moved in front of them and around them like little black ants. He had never seen a settlement that encompassed multiple pillars before. Arbistrad had been built at a point where eight pillars and several large fragments were arranged together. The resultant arrangement made the town something of a defensive structure, with most of the settlement falling inside a rough hexagonal shape determined by six of the pillars – the remaining two were inside the hexagon, and simply gave more room for people. To Kaleb the whole thing seemed to glow with an internal light. In the mist, it looked like it was haloed by magnificence. The only thing that kept him grounded in his reverie was the smell of the place – sweat, excrement, metal and grease. It was as if the view was so beautiful it required a counterpoint in the form of the odour. He raised his mask again and slowly wandered along the walkway towards the glowing lights. He encountered his first few buildings, small shops, houses, and buildings he could not determine the purpose of at first sight. There were people bustling along the walkways, moving in both directions, bumping into each other, nodding, apologizing. There were people smiling and laughing at seats inside cafes, and the sounds of people calling and yelling all through the air. He felt giddy with excitement. This was cable city! This was like one of the places those traveller’s stories had been about. The lights that glowed brighter than the mists, the buildings stacked one atop another all the way out of sight. It was like his dreams had walked right out of his mind. As he walked closer, the pillars loomed up above him, every one of them an intricate layering of walkways and buildings with a confusion of cables running between them. He saw someone carrying a box walk right off the walkway. The air beneath the person seemed to change in character, as if a sudden impact had gripped it, a cone of pressure extended beneath him, its contours visible in the impression it left on the mists, and the man rose up, walking in midair. As he looked around, he saw other people casually employing their fields. The whole air thrummed with the gentle static of field generation.

In the shop windows were things Kaleb had never seen before, or versions of things he knew that were built form materials he had never encountered before, all of them shining and sparkling with the kind of luxurious appearance that he had no frame of reference for. There were things that looked like hard ceramic or glass that people bought and then ate! It was strange to watch them do that. The cups people used were thin and tall and as far as he could tell, made of glass, he could hardly imagine how such a fragile thing –especially at the thickness it was in these cups– could be durable enough to use. Just as how the buildings differed so substantially between Haethea and Ambistrad, apparently so too did the cutlery. He went into one store and asked them whether the vessels were made of glass. After the people behind the counter had guffawed and his face grew red, they gave him a complimentary cup of their tea, which he obligingly sat down at a table and drink. He tapped the cup and confirmed that it was in fact glass, but a glass that was much more sturdy and less fragile than the glass that they produced at Haethea. It was free from any of the bubbles and imperfections that persisted in the manufacturing process at home as well. This glass was entirely transparent, and seemed so perfect in its construction that Kaleb wondered at how it could have been made by the hands of people. The tea was vastly different from any he had drunk before. At Haethea it had been a bitter leaf, and Iowara’s tea had a delicate herbal taste. This tea was rich, dark and sweet. It was like a finely woven tapestry, dyed with magnificent deep colours, but in the form of a beverage. Kaleb’s eyes widened in awe as he drank it, and he thanked the shop owners profusely as he left, at which it was their turn to blush deeply. As he left, he felt a glow emerge from his stomach and up through his heart. He realised that he was happy. He had become glad that he had left his home, now. This place was some kind of living dream. It was filled with the magic of people and their ingenuity.

Kaleb continued up into the main settlement. From the walkways, one could look over the whole settlement and into what seemed to be the central area. There were buildings that seemed even to be suspended only on struts and wires, jutting out from the pillars. The whole place seemed like a nest woven into the conjunction of these pillars.

Yet as he watched, Kaleb felt a twinge from the back of his neck. He turned and glanced around, but saw nothing especially dangerous, nothing out of place –though it was nearly impossible for him to tell what exactly was in place in this new and exotic arena. But he wouldn’t take this sign without its due caution. If there was danger, even if he couldn’t consciously register it, he would be careful, and try to escape. He knew the futility of going against even the most average of people in this town. Though what danger there could be in the middle of such a settlement he wasn’t sure of. But he hardly knew enough of it to be making such assumptions.

And so he began to move cautiously among the crowds, slipping from one place to another, trying his best to go unseen and out of the way.

~

What the hell was this guy doing? Yolanda rolled her eyes as she wandered across rooftops, walkways, and even over wires with the grace of a cat. She would pump just enough force into her fields that it seemed as if she was gliding through the air when she made her movements. They were subtle, delicate, and filled with mastery. The other benefit of a more sensory aligned array was that control was maximised. It was unfortunate, she thought, but there was little she could do to help the poor guy. She was just not equipped for something like this… maybe if she had some explosives… but that was the way of the world, she supposed, misfortune and unfairness were rife, and the powerful walked all over the corpses of the less powerful to reach their thrones of gold.

But this guy was seriously frustrating! He was obviously aware that he was being hunted now, but his movements were simple, and his approach was playing into Arleigne’s hands. He was moving away from the large crowds, seeking out shadows, seeking to hide. Of course this wasn’t a terrible approach if one was actually adept at hiding, but this guy stood out like a sore thumb. Arleigne’s net was closing around him, and he turned from ways that could have held aid for him because Arleigne had positioned her goons around them. He was behaving like a prey animal! Yolanda thought. If he was a little more able she could have got a message to him, guided him to some relative safety, or the influence of another player in the drama of the underworld in this settlement, but as it was now he was almost beyond her help. Yolanda could see Arleigne licking her lips in her mind’s eye.

The thing was, Yolanda hated the unfairness of it all. She railed in her mind against the hellish conditions of power, and she detested the misuse of force. She had been exposed to it for so long, one would think that she had been desensitized, but it was the opposite: from her position, so close to the arms of the power of a corporate entity that no one wanted to go against, she grew first discontent and then treacherous and finally a true traitor to their hegemony. She detested the use of power for personal gain over the aid of others, and it drew from her a fury that, perhaps intensified by the pressure of her need to be a double agent, and her inability to escape her current employment predicament, was now at a fever pitch. Despite it all, despite her weakness, despite her inability to formulate a plan for this poor sod, despite the forces aligned against her, Yolanda desperately, sincerely and truly wanted to help him.

Yolanda stopped and breathed deeply. There was nothing she could do, though. She would have to watch as another person got ground into dust by the heel of Arleigne’s shoe, which seemed so similar to the heel of the shoe she worked under. She would just have to put up with it. Her failure was in not keeping a closer eye on those incoming to the settlement. Perhaps, if she had some fore-warning, she could have in turn given him some good advice: go home, never return. But now there was no way to help him. He was surrounded, he’d managed to make it a fair distance, but in exactly the direction that the hunters had wanted him to go in.

Then Yolanda stopped, and considered an option she hadn’t. There was a way she could try and help. It wasn’t as if she’d be able to bust the guy out of that little circle of over-spiked flesh, but she knew there was someone in town who could do just that. Yolanda kicked off the tin roof she was standing on and a cone of pressure spread out from her foot as she sped off with nimble grace through the cables and wires in search of aid.

~

Why is this happening to me?! Kaleb had the strong inclination to shout this out to the world as he dodged among the crates and boxes that he had found himself amongst while escaping from his pursuers. Why?! Why right after he had finally found something wonderful, something that wasn’t going to kill him, did he stumble into the next thing that seemed like it wanted to? He was fuming, but he tried to keep his cool and evade his pursuers as best he could. It wasn’t easy. They navigated in all three dimensions, while he was limited to two when he couldn’t find a ladder. He saw some more of the thugs ahead, two abreast, blocking a road. He dodged sideways into another road and raced on. What should he do? Would he be able to evade them in the air? Could he drop like a stone far enough to get up enough speed to fly away from them? He knew it was futile. Even if he used the parallel field to accelerate, their spikes would give them acceleration that would far outpace him. He kept his eyes out for a clear spot though. If there was a small hole perhaps he could lose them among them cables. Even field generators could be impeded by so many wires, he thought.

He ran around a corner, and then flailed to a stop as he saw another series of dangerous looking people before him. He tried to spin around, but before he could run again he spied another team moving to block off the walkway in front of him, and behind him he knew there was already a sizable contingent of people. Just how had all of these people co-ordinated? He wondered, how were they able to know where he was so easily, and how was it that he was, as had been proved again, unable to do anything about it!?

Kaleb slowed his breathing. Perhaps he could still shake them. He looked to where they were the fewest in number, and readied himself, trying not to make it obvious. He had no chance of defeating these people, either in field generation or in a battle of physical strength. He would have to feint and try and dodge as best he could.

“Hey, there little man, you got some time?” one of the figures was sidling up to me

“Not really, I’m a bit busy at the moment,” Kaleb considered leaving it at that, but thought it might be good to get them to talk, at least some of their mind would be thinking about the words coming out of their mouth. “Why, what do you need me for? I’d actually really appreciate it if you could fuck off”

“That’s a bit rude, man.”

“Yeah, we just wanna know what’s up with your spikes, man”

“Hmm, why, what sort of problem could you have with my body’s internal workings?”

“Oh no, it’s just the boss says you ain’t got any”

“Well, maybe your boss is an idiot”

Kaleb watched the gaps closing around him. But the closer they got, the less time they would have to react.

“Nah, nah she’s not…. Unfortunately for you.”

“Well, I do have spikes, so there. I guess she is”

“Then why don’t you use them?”

As he said that, finally closing the space between them, Kaleb dodged back to avoid his grasp and then shot past him at full speed. The attacker behind the first reached out towards him, and Kaleb ducked under his arm, reaching out as he went past and jabbing the man in the stomach. He curled up almost instantly. Then Kaleb launched himself off again, sprinting as hard as he could. Except the moment he did he felt the tell-tale shiver of field generation. Fuck, fuck fuck he thought to himself, trying to find a space from which he could launch. But as he jumped up and onto the railing of the walkway, he felt it. It was really the first time he’d been grasped directly by a field since leaving Haethea. It was as if the ground had been swept out from under him, as if the parallel field had changed in direction. Everything seemed to him to be falling in the wrong direction. His ears popped. Then he was crashing and banging on the walkway, his knees and elbows were scraped against the steel, and he finally rolled to a painful stop right in front of the assailants.

“Well, well” one of them said, before giving him a kick in the stomach. He buckled at this, and gasped at the shock of pain.

“Hey!” said another of the men “don’t damage the fucken’ goods” he reached out and grasped the man’s shoulder. The man who had done the kicking snorted derisively. The man who he’d punched in the gut straightened himself and then lurched over to Kaleb, his breath rasping he began to speak at him “yeah, well, fuck him. Let me tell you, boy, you’re going into the organ grinder, and we’ll see how much goddam fight you’ve got once we rip your goddamn lungs out of your chest. You’re gonna make us a lot of money… not a surgical scar on your body. I bet someone’ll pay top dollar for us to cut you up into tiny little pieces and put all of them in separate steel buckets.”

Kaleb leaned up and spat at the man, not that it would do much. So this was his fate huh? He was gonna end up as an unwilling organ donor. And really, he couldn’t see a way out of it. His head was ringing from being pulled back so viciously, and his vision was still sparking around the edges. He saw one of the thugs pull out a box, and then out from the box he pulled a syringe. He began to walk towards Kaleb, and the two closest of his assailants reached out and grabbed him, pinning him down as he struggled to get free.

“Fucking damn it” he gasped to himself. This was the end. This would probably be his last memory. What a hopeless ending, he’d hoped it’d be a beautiful view when the time came, or at least a dramatic one. Why couldn’t that black hand have just ripped his heart out? At least that death would have felt like it was deserved, not being jumped by a bunch of thicks.

And just as the syringe began its descent, a voice, tired and frustrated and sounding more than a little annoyed, rang out from behind Kaleb:

“Anyone want to tell me what’s going on here?” it said.