Season 1, Episode 2 - The Sewer III - "Never Have I Ever"

A few more alleyways later, Isaac, Audrey, and Reed arrived in a courtyard surrounded by red brick apartment towers. A makeshift Army camp occupied the area. Soldiers lazed around, sitting on wooden crates, playing card games, smoking cigarettes, a few beer bottles positioned just carefully so the commander wouldn't notice.

Isaac shook his head. What happened to doing your duty to the best of your ability?

A few of the soldiers looked appreciatively at Audrey. Audrey, of course, was in her own world and didn't notice the lovestruck stares. Reed was too busy thinking of ways to get back at Mackenzie, resulting Isaac leading the way, searching for third-year Rddhi users Clayton and Hanai, their guides down to the tunnels.

In a corner of the courtyard, below a faded olive-green tent, the three found their seniors. Clayton, Hanai, and an unknown lieutenant who couldn't have been much older than them were crowded around a small brown radio, tense looks on their faces.

The announcer's voice came out the radio. "30-20-10...touchdown! Vermont College has taken the lead with only six minutes to go!"

Clayton cheered while the lieutenant shook his head. Hanai stood, his fists and teeth clenched.

"I cannot believe it! Vermont has been targeting the same tight end the whole game, how in the hell do you not account for it!"

Hanai suddenly noticed the three new arrivals. Like the training book said to do, Isaac gave him a stern salute, while Audrey gave a friendly one. Reed sort of brought her hand up lazily.

Hanai's return salute was crisp.

"At ease, everyone," Clayton said, rising from his seat, waving away the formalities.

"The game ain't over," the lieutenant said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out from his chest pocket.

"I'd like to see a comeback, Colombo," Clayton answered.

Isaac almost chuckled, seeing the blush on Audrey's face as Clayton gave the lieutenant an easygoing smile.

Clayton pointed to a nearby crate. "Otherwise, when I get back, that bottle of wine's mine."

Lieutenant Colombo shooed him away, grumbling under his breath with a grin.

Clayton and Hanai led the three away from the tent and toward a section of the courtyard cordoned off by the Military Police, stern looks under their green helmets, marked with the white MP initials.

"Nobody in the military would like the MPs, except for one reason," Clayton explained as they approached, still out of earshot of the stone-faced MPs.

"What's the reason?" Isaac asked.

Clayton chuckled. "No police is good police. But any police besides the State Police is great police."

Everybody agreed, but nobody laughed, because the State Police was known for the midnight knock on the door that resulted in detention, interrogation, and reeducation. If all those people assigned to the "logging camps" in Piscataquis actually worked as lumberjacks, they would've cut down all the trees in Maine by now.

"Captain Kelb," Clayton greeted a sharp-looking MP with a brown hair under his helmet, a new level of seriousness in his voice. Clayton handed Kelb his identification papers. After looking through them, the MP nodded, handing them back.

Kelb waved them through, a rifle slung across his shoulder. In the back of the cordoned off section of the courtyard, through bushes, under an aging tree, and shielded by a crumbling brick wall, two MPs stood in front of covered manhole. Isaac could see how an entrance into the district like this might have been overlooked by internal security forces. As the group approached, the two MPs knelt down and slid off the manhole cover, revealing a dark, foreboding hole down into the earth that made Isaac's skin crawl.

"Watch your step," Clayton said. Leading the way, Clayton reversed himself and started down the rusting ladder that led into the sewer. The three soon followed, with Hanai taking the rear.

"Welcome to the sewers," Clayton offered with an easy smile. The party of five had assembled itself below ground, surrounded by concrete, old bulbs under steel grates on the walls offering them light.

"Where's the water?" Audrey asked, giggling at the slight echo of her voice.

"I guess this technically isn't the sewers yet, just an underground corridor connected to them," Clayton explained. "Concrete walls, concrete ceiling, concrete floor. Enjoy that and enjoy the smell, because it won't be this nice further on."

With old lights on the walls guiding them, Clayton and Hanai led them down the first few tunnels, the air gradually getting colder as they descended downwards into the crumbling tunnels of both Old and New Boston (dated to the Unleashing and the Second American Civil War, respectively). Every so often, they passed by a pair of guards, dressed in camouflaged mottled gray, all looking decently bored. Isaac didn't like that.

Here they are, assigned to a duty that would protect the city, and they looked bored with it!

"Beyond the annual parades, this is the first military operation this district's seen in years." Clayton said, noticing the look in Isaac's eyes. "A deployment to Elizabeth Pond is a peacetime deployment."

They continued on, the cold, damp air mixing uncomfortably with the sweat and anticipation on Isaac's face. After heading down an old set of concrete stairs, they arrived at a wider chamber. At the far end sat two soldiers sitting around a fire, playing a game of cards, the infiltration route into the chamber now boarded off by wooden planks.

"This is our stop," Clayton said as they approached the two bored looking guards. "Private Loper, Private Axelman."

The two privates suddenly dropped their cards and stood, placing their palms on their hearts, the Pledge of Allegiance to the New England state and the eventual reunification of America. They greeted in unison, "Second Lieutenant Wesley, Sergeant Hanaki!"

"Easy, soldiers," Hanai ordered, his eyes hidden behind his glasses.

The two soldiers relaxed and noticed the three students with the sergeants. The soldiers looked to be in their early twenties, so Isaac supposed Clayton and Hanai must have won the older soldiers over with their strength and experience; the three younger users had no such qualifications and thus no need for that level of respect, even if a Class 1 Rddhi user was ranked as a private, the same as them.

"These are the kids in charge of clearing this path?" the tanned Loper asked, scratching at his wispy mustache.

"If it works, it works," broad-shouldered Axelman said with a shrug. Axelman held out a handheld radio transceiver with one hand and a flashlight with the other.

"Walkie talkies!" Audrey exclaimed in excitement, grabbing it along with the flashlight. She placed the walkie talkie in a uniform pocket and peered into the front of the flashlight to see if it worked; the sudden blast of light sent her stumbling backwards.

Loper and Axelman looked at each other.

"Half the lights don't work down there, so you'll need the flashlight," Loper explained.

"And if you need anything from us, use the radio," Axelman added. "Communications will be spotty down there though, so you might need to move back toward us for the radio to work."

Isaac tapped the map inside his chest pocket. Radio, flashlight, map. The energy coursing through each one of three Rddhi users. That's all they would need.

Using the backs of hammers, Loper and Axelman pulled down enough planks for a person to fit through them.

"Get the agent down there and come right back," Hanai reminded them. "Don't do anything unnecessary, otherwise, I'll bring you back to life and kill you again!"

The three kids looked at each other.

"Ok," Reed offered.

"In and out, quick and clean," Clayton said. "Remember your training. Isaac, I suppose you didn't get any training, so I guess...go out there and have fun?"

Isaac let golden energy crackle in his fist.

"Thanks Clayton, Hanai. We'll be right back."

Isaac entered the breach.

It was dark. That much was obvious.

After a few misses of the on button, Audrey successfully activated the flashlight. The scene before them was...

"So, this is what being in an old sewer is like," Isaac supposed. "I don't know what I expected."

The sewer was built from concrete, now slowly giving way to cracks, moss hanging from the growing crevices in the walls and ceiling. There were concrete walkways on either side of slow-moving, murky water that looked as if it hadn't been touched in hundreds of years.

Probably because it hasn't, Isaac supposed.

The three began walking down the corridor. To their left was the wall; to their right was dark water that didn't smell all that good.

Reed put herself in front of the three, leading the way. This surprised Isaac, because usually Reed wasn't up for this sort of thing. Maybe she just wanted to get it over with so she'd have the rest of her Saturday off, no doubt already pissed about missing her Saturday morning cartoons.

Once they put enough distance between the soldiers and themselves, Reed suddenly raised her fist, signifying halt. Audrey only stopped when she bumped into Isaac.

"What's up?" Isaac whispered, kneeling, waiting, feeling the nerves rush through him.

"Hold for a second."

Reed moved over toward the water, kneeling at the edge of the walkway, and fiddled through her coat for a moment. Isaac sighed when she saw her pull out an uninflated balloon from a pocket on her waist.

"Reed, what the hell are you doing?" Isaac asked in a normal voice.

"I told Mackenzie I'd make her smell, didn't I?" Reed filled the balloon with sewer water, recoiling slightly as the smell hit her.

"Why do you have a balloon?" Audrey asked, dumbfounded.

"You don't have balloons?" Reed answered dryly. "They're important, you know. You never know when you might need one."

"That's our Reed," Audrey exclaimed cheerfully. Isaac just shook his head.

The balloon now filled, Reed closed it by tying a knot at the end of it. She then tied it carefully to a loop on her coat and let out a prayer to God, Allah, Buddha, and to a lesser extent Ra that it wouldn't pop and explode dirty water on her.

"Covering all your bases?" Isaac asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know who's up there," Reed answered. "I'm not taking any chances."

Satisfied that she now had the means to get back at Mackenzie, Reed stood up and sighed.

"Alright, Isaac, lead the way."

Isaac rolled his eyes and began walking again, though he did notice Reed sliding in next to him so that both of them were in front.

They walked in silence for an unknown amount of time. Isaac supposed that time didn't seem to exist down here, out of reach from sunlight and humanity, these unchanging walls and ancient concrete. Everything looked the same – old, dreary – as they headed further down tunnels upon tunnels, guided by the cheerful exclamations of Audrey whenever they hit a fork or crossroads and needed to turn.

"Isn't it amazing?" Audrey exclaimed, waving around the flashlight. "Our great-great grandfathers built this back when there was a Boston and an America. We're stepping through history!"

Reed narrowed her eyes, trying to watch where she walked, something made much more difficult with the light bouncing everywhere. "We're stepping through shit."

"That once came out of our ancestors! It's history, Reed, history! It's amazing!"

Isaac and Audrey heard a sudden splash and readied themselves. Audrey pointed the flashlight back in front of her, steadily, like she was supposed to; the yellow beam illuminated Reed, her tights covered in unfortunate looking shades of brown, as she stepped out of the sewer water.

"~Teehee," Audrey offered, letting a silent Reed take the flashlight from her.

"Me personally, I think you smell better now," Isaac offered. Reed simply stepped past him and continued onward.

"The person in front should've had this from the start," Reed grumbled, keeping the light steady.

"Now that we're all here and finally have some time, why don't we play Never Have I Ever?" Audrey asked from the back. "It'll be good to do some friendship bonding activities."

In the front, next to Reed, Isaac gave a thumbs up. Despite the seriousness of the situation, these were his friends after all, and Isaac was a young kid who knew little about matters of life and death. For all his seriousness, he was still a teenager. And maybe some games would help keep his mind from wandering into fearful thoughts.

"Let's do it. Reed?"

Reed muttered something that wasn't particularly pleasant.

"Everyone hold up five fingers. One person says something they haven't done. For the other two people, if you've done it before, put a finger down," Audrey explained. Both she and Isaac held up five fingers; Reed ignored them. "You're not playing, Reed?"

Reed didn't look back. "It's childish."

Isaac smirked. "Guess you lose then."

Reed still looked ahead, but five fingers straightened upwards on her left hand.

"Alright! I'll go first!" Audrey thought about topics for a moment. "Never have I ever kissed a girl!"

Isaac felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. He kept all five fingers up, as did Reed.

"Really, Isaac? I thought for sure I'd be getting you out."

"Ah, well, you know-"

"He's scared," Reed said, still looking ahead.

"Scared?" Isaac repeated.

"Nervous!" Audrey added. "If he's too scared to let a girl eat food of him, he's too scared to kiss!"

"You guys are no help," Isaac complained. "I'll go next, then. Never have I ever eaten donuts out of the trash."

Reed grunted and put a finger down.

"My turn," Reed supposed. "Never have I ever spent two hundred dollars on a children's magical girl Japanimation figurine."

"It was a hundred-fifty and limited edition!" Isaac clenched his fists. "Never have I ever lied about being an incest survivor to get a discount on VHS tapes!"

"Never have I ever cried myself to sleep over not having Rddhi powers."

"Take that back, Reed! Never have I ever cried myself to sleep over having Rddhi powers!"

"Guys, guys!"

Audrey stepped in between them, moving Isaac's hands off Reed's shoulders and Reed's hands off Isaac's ears. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"I'll kick your ass!" Isaac yelled over Audrey.

Reed smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

Audrey sighed. "We're in this together, you guys-"

"Never have I ever stolen Clayton's pillow out of a dumpster to-"

"REED, YOU SON OF A BITCH! GO TO HELL!"

This time, Isaac had to hold Audrey back from Reed.

The chaos between the three came a sudden halt when they felt the distant ripples in the Rddhi.

Mr. Shokahu sighed, leaning against the oak wood wall of the hallway. Next to him stood the two large, imposing, wooden doors into the office of Josiah Stockham, Chairman of West Narragansett Technical Academy. Typical for Stockham, the meeting was scheduled for ten minutes ago, yet Shokahu still stood outside in the hallway, forgoing a bench in favor of standing. Shokahu watched in mute silence, red scarf around his neck, as secretaries and bureaucrats scattered through the hallway, for this was the heart of the Academy, the top floor of the Support Building.

The door to Stockham's office slowly opened, and the back of a tall girl in school uniform appeared in the doorway, still looking inside. Judging from the way her black hair went down to her upper back, the meekness in her stance, and the fact that she was coming out of Stockham's office, Shokahu deduced that it was Esther Adzinoki, the girl genius, ace student, someone who followed around Stockham like a dog.

Shokahu supposed that was too harsh of him, even if it was true. Esther had no father figure in her life, and Stockham had no daughter in his, at least not since the First American War. It was a natural pair, especially considering Stockham's ambition and Esther's genius.

Esther backed out of Stockham's office, waving to the Chairman as she left. When she turned to walk away, she saw Shokahu and froze sheepishly in place, bringing a binder to her chest, crossing her arms around it.

"Mr. Shokahu," Esther greeted nervously.

"Esther," Shokahu greeted in his usual flat, deep voice. "How's the work going? Must be important, if you're here on a Saturday."

"Just finishing up some pattern analysis for Mr. Stockham," Esther explained. Her voice sounded small, but there was a small flow of cheerfulness in it as she mentioned the Chairman's name.

"Keep it up."

"Thank you," Esther answered quietly. With her head down, she moved past him, her steps meek and quiet.

Keeping mute, Shokahu watched her go, then entered the Chairman's office.

If Shokahu wasn't disillusioned, Stockham's office would have ensconced him with an overwhelming feeling of wealth and power. Stockham's office was a large room, forcing guests to walk up a long red carpet toward his desk. The walls were painted with a deep, royal blue, and covered with antique paintings of mountains and valleys. A suite of old gray armor stood in front of one wall, its dark visor following Shokahu as he headed up the red carpet.

At the far end of the office, windows covered the entirety of the back, letting in sunshine and warmth, offering views of distant high-rises and skyscrapers from deeper in the capital, off in the distance. In front of the windows was Stockham's desk, a rich, deep mahogany, freshly polished. The stacks of paper that usually could be found on his desk were gone; Shokahu guessed Esther helped him organize most of it and took the rest away in her binder.

Chairman Stockham himself was facing away from Shokahu, looking out through the window, slow puffs of cigar smoke trailing away from him. He was a large man, dressed impeccably in a blue business suit, a full head of gray hair revealing his age.

"Take a seat, Shokahu," Stockham offered, his voice deep and genial, addressing an old friend, yet he kept looking away through the window.

The continued usage of his last name didn't bother Shokahu; it dated back from the First American War, sixteen years ago, when they served in the trenches of the Connecticut Front together. Stockham worked as a liaison between the experimental technologies research center that supplied updated weaponry and information to the various Rddhi users scattered across the Army divisions; Shokahu himself was a Rddhi user.

Stockham's usage of his last name didn't bother him at all. Following Stockham during the Pulaski Coup (or the National Awakening, as it was known in the official, Presidential Administration-mandated history books) only occasionally bothered him, usually on nights where he had too much to drink by himself. But what bothered him the most was how Stockham used his students.

"Just what game are you playing?" Shokahu asked, still standing.

Stockham looked back from the window with a grin that said he was privy to a world much larger than the events of the Academy.

"Game?" Stockham repeated, as if he didn't know the definition of the word. "What ever could you mean?"

"Sending two Class 1s to investigate a known Yorkist infiltration system by themselves," Shokahu said, as if to remind him. "We should have an Army division down there with construction and demolition teams attached."

"You think the tunnels below our district is the only way to get into New England?" Stockham let the cigar rest between his fingers as he talked. "The Army is covering the infiltration routes into the Institute and Cambridge, because those are the academies that make the press, not backwater West Narragansett Technical Academy."

Stockham smiled. "But the lack of attention has its own benefits, don't you think? Let's us do things our way, without the Presidential Administration getting itself involved."

"I understand that the Presidential Administration isn't giving us any extra resources for this," Shokahu acknowledged. "But I know we could have done more. And that still doesn't explain why we're sending them in by themselves."

"To test their abilities, of course. The Eightfold Fist, don't you think that could be the key to unlocking the heavens?"

Shokahu looked at him dryly. "Josiah, with all due respect, do you really think we can punch our way into God's Kingdom?"

Stockham smiled. "Anything's possible in this day and age. Let's see what the boy is made of."

"Then why not send him with higher ranks?"

"He's got that Class 3 with him."

"Reed is the most unreliable candidate this school has ever had," Shokahu stated bluntly. "And I should know, that title used to be mine."

Stockham sat back down, sighing as he relaxed in his leather seat. "Those were the days, weren't they? And this Class 3, you personally recommended her for the mission. You said it yourself, didn't you? Her past behavior suggests she'll be completely unreliable, except for when her teammates are in danger."

Shokahu couldn't argue with that.

"It just seems like a lot," he finally said. "Their first mission, to take down two Yorkist users whose caliber we've only estimated. And, because of whatever game you're playing, we told them there was only one infiltrator down there."

"Do you think we'll know exact numbers in the war to come?" Stockham asked, still genial. "Let them run up against something unexpected. It does wonders for natural growth, don't you think?"

Shokahu remained silent.

"Don't you see, Shokahu? That's the beauty of it."

Stockham leaned forward, fingers clasped together on his mahogany desk.

"If they win, we have a better idea of what we're working with. If they lose…"

Stockham smiled.

"We save ourselves the investment. It means we have to pursue alternative methods of meeting God. It means the three were never worth training in the first place."