Mortal Lock (29 page)

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Authors: Andrew Vachss

Tags: #Collections & Anthologies, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #General

BOOK: Mortal Lock
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THE BUM

They’re everywhere now, the crews. It’s like they’re trying to kill us all.

RAJAH

Damn! You really saved my ass, man.

He offers his bottle of wine
.

THE BUM

(taking a drink, handing the bottle back)

Thanks, bro. We have to stick together now.

RAJAH

Oh, yeah!

Rajah stabs the bum in the chest. Waits a few seconds to make sure it’s safe to leave. Then he starts hacking off the bum’s ears
.

FADE OUT

FADE IN

Shots of Rajah being treated like a god: Shopkeepers waving away his proffered card (for credit-extraction), girls draped all over him, boys offering him all kinds of free gear, hanging on his every word
.

FADE OUT FADE IN

Rajah is working the tunnels, dressed in his hunting gear
.

RAJAH

(V/O)

Everybody hunts down here now. I get spotted a lot by different crews, but they can never catch me. I know these deep tunnels better than anyone.

I used to pop Zoners when I first went out, but now I don’t need them anymore.

All I need is the marks.

Rajah stops, satisfies himself that he’s safe, sits with his back against the wall, and lights a cigarette, carefully cupping the tip
.

LOUD VOICE

There’s one of them!

Rajah acts almost bored. He moves with the air of a man who has done the same acts many times: gets up slowly, stubs out his smoke, and pockets the butt. He walks a few feet, steps into a crevice, and peers out, using a periscope-like device with a light-illuminator
.

The onrushing group is closer than he first thought. Rajah takes a deep breath, gets ready to run for the deep tunnels. He looks over his shoulder and sees …

A crew of bums, screaming for his blood
.

FADE OUT ON RAJAH BEING TORN APART LIKE HUMAN TISSUE PAPER

FADE BACK TO:

LINCOLN SU

(still at the podium)

The Book of Crews teaches that the desire to kill becomes death itself. From this came our First Law.

FADE OUT

FADE IN ON:

Shot of another section of wall … same color, style—as if only one tagger is at work*

*Every
message from the Book Boys is in the
exact
same color, and, while sprayed as graffiti would be, it is always in the
exact
same handwriting, too
.

THE SAGES SEE THROUGH THE AGES
THE TERROR WAS NO ERROR
FIRST CAME THE AGENCIES

FADE OUT

FADE IN ON:

INT: Same “gathering hall” as in the opening. we see a rotund black man stepping away from the podium as an androgynous individual takes his place and faces the audience. The Androgynous Individual has short brown hair, long white-painted nails, and is wearing a lilac-colored, loose-fitting garment
.

ANDROGYNOUS INDIVIDUAL

(self-assured voice, gives no clue to gender)

This is the Tale of the Charter. It is from the Book of Records. Through study of this Book, we learn the value of maintaining truth.

FADE OUT as the Androgynous Individual begins to speak

FADE IN

INT: A man in his early thirties is sitting on the floor of a small cave laboriously hand-carved into the wall of one of the Tunnels. He is whispering to himself, occasionally pausing to write feverishly, using a long black stick to make entries in an old leather book. This is the Charter
.

CHARTER

(speaking to himself)

I know this is all so complicated, but I have to make a record. My blood demands: Leave a record. Not on the wall, like the Book Boys. Write it all down, but bury it away. Then, maybe, someday …

CHARTER

(aloud, as he writes)

Before the Terror, the Rulers kept changing. Different ones, in different places. But the
real
rulers were always the same—they were called Agencies. The Health Agency ruled Health; the War Agency ruled Wars. There was an Agency for everything people did.

We don’t have wars anymore. We have Warlocks, but the name doesn’t mean what it sounds
like: In Underground, the Warlocks are potioners. The best ones can make stuff that lets you see Outside. Not with your eyes, in your head.

FADE AWAY TO:

The Charter is entering the Trade Tunnel. His head is down, and he moves slowly. He walks past stall after stall until he comes to one marked

POTIONS
.

A crone looks up as the Charter enters. Her eyes are empty sockets
.

CRONE

(extending her fingertips like sensory organs)

You want something to stop you from being sad?

CHARTER

For what? Those never last.

CRONE

(indifferently)

They last forever, as long as you keeping taking them.

CHARTER

Zoners do that, too. But after a while, there’s nothing left of you.

CRONE

What
do
you want, then?

CHARTER

I want to see Outside.

CRONE

A vision potion.

CHARTER

(determined)

Yes.

CRONE

Outside is too big to see in a vision. You have to say what
part
of it you want to see.

CHARTER

I want to see one of the Agencies. The Agencies that ruled there. I want to see the Agency that protected the children.

The Crone nods; she doesn’t need to hear any more
.

CRONE

One hundred credits.
Open
credits, not Tunnel credits.

The Charter hands over his plastic card. The Crone places it into the slot of a Transaction Box. Then she beckons him forward. The Charter places his palm over the slot, intones solemnly
.

CHARTER

One hundred open credits.

The box hums for a second, then makes a pinging sound, indicating the Charter’s card was good for that amount, and that it has been deducted
.

CRONE

(decanting droplets from various colored bottles into a small vial)

You must be in a very safe place before you take this. While you are having the vision, only your body will still be here. You will not be able to defend yourself. Do you understand?

FADE OUT

FADE IN

INT: Charter’s mini-cave

The Charter blocks the opening, sits with his back to the far wall, and takes out a vial of swirl-colored liquid. He tilts back his head, and pours the contents into his mouth. His face goes slack, his eyes slip closed
.

The Camera sees:

A huge blob, throbbing with energy. Every spasm emits another blob, much smaller. The smaller blobs subsume whatever they encounter, and grow with each success. Those that do not find something to subsume grow smaller … until they vanish
.

FADE OUT

FADE IN

Sense of time having passed
.

The Charter is walking along the Conveyor Platform, his affect clearly indicating he is searching. He spots a teenager wearing a pale yellow jumpsuit, standing immobile. The Charter steps close to him
.

CHARTER

I had a Vision. I need to know what it means.

TEENAGER

Only a Sage can tell you that.

CHARTER

(pointing at the yellow jumpsuit)

You’re a Messenger, aren’t you? So you could tell me how to—

MESSENGER

(warningly)

No one Sage knows everything. You have to find the right one.

CHARTER

(intensely)

But if I tell you the Vision, you can find the Sage who can answer my question?

MESSENGER

(smugly)

Sure. Only a Messenger can do that. The Book Boys don’t answer questions; they just say things. True things, sure. But unless what they say is the answer
you’re
looking for, it won’t help you.

CHARTER

I know.

FADE OUT

FADE IN

The Charter and the Messenger are sitting across from one another, a board game of some kind between them, like one of the outdoor chess tables in Washington Square Park. They move pieces, but it is clear they are merely using this as a prop to speak. We have to come in close to hear the conversation
.

MESSENGER

None of the Sages on Border knew the whole answer. But one of them told me where I could find what you wanted. In the Uncharted Zone.

CHARTER

(wary)

Yeah?

MESSENGER

I heard you can buy and sell anything—
anything
—in the Uncharted Zone. They call it the Black Market, because there’s no overhead lights like they have here … just little ones.

CHARTER

(not impressed, striking at the Messenger’s vanity)

Everybody hears things. Even the crazies.

MESSENGER

What
I
heard was that, before the Terror, Agencies were very, very big. And they gave birth. There would be like a super Agency, and it would have many, many littler Agencies coming from it.

CHARTER

(staring at the Messenger)

You hear anything else?

MESSENGER

(vanity restored, smug)

Oh,
now
you’re interested? Okay. I heard it was a
huge
Agency that gave birth to the Agency that protected the children. That one was a lot smaller.

CHARTER

Did it …?

MESSENGER

(moving a piece on the board, not looking up)

I told you everything. I took the Message, and I brought back what I got from the Sage, didn’t I?

CHARTER

(nodding, but not satisfied)

Yeah. And I paid you, too, didn’t I? But I still don’t have the answer.

MESSENGER

(just short of condescending)

You asked if there ever was an Agency that protected the children. That’s a Truth Question; three hundred credits. You paid me; I did my job. I told you what the Sage said. But the Sage also said that asking if the Agency
worked
isn’t a Truth Question; it’s a Judgment Question. One thousand credits. And every Judgment Question has to be asked three times—you need a different Sage each time you ask. And the only ones who can do Judgment Questions are in the Uncharted Zone. And Messengers never go there.

FADE OUT

FADE IN

INT: Charter’s mini-cave

CHARTER

(eyes closed, smoking, V/O)

I know this is taking a long time. Making a record is hard. I have to explain everything. I found a way to get things Outside. Not people, but things. That’s why I need to make this record. For Outside.

If there
is
anyone there. Nobody knows. Not for sure.

I want my record to go Outside, but I don’t want to go there myself. That’s why nobody can ever find my record until I’m ready to send it.

I thought I could find the answers I need, but I’ll never have three thousand credits in my life.

All I have is my record.

That’s how I found a way to get things Outside. Doing what I was trained to do. Making records.

FADE OUT

FADE IN

The same Charter, only much younger. He is moving through narrow, twisting tunnels with calm assurance. Every once in a while, he stops and makes a note on a pad strapped to his thigh
.

CHARTER

(V/O)

When I was a kid, they trained me to be a Charter. I could move through the tunnels without a map or markers or a sonar-pack. I had this … gift for finding my way; that’s why the Rulers picked me. They tested me when I was still a baby. Then they took me away.

The tunnels outside the Charted Zone never have any light. The Rulers said we have to chart
all
the tunnels. Once a tunnel has been charted, the Rulers give it a name, so it can have a purpose. Once the tunnel has a name, it’s in the Charted Zone. Some of them have always been here, like the Medical Tunnels. Some are pretty new, like the Sanitation Tunnels. That’s where the Conveyor takes people who have died.

A Charter makes a record. He gives the record to the Rulers, so they can add new tunnels to the Charted Zone.

The Rulers said I was special, because I could always find my way, and make a path. But I never found my own path until one time when I heard a sound echoing through the deep tunnels. It called to me. I’d heard children cry before. Plenty of times. But this was different: it was the thin, bitter sadness of a child seeing his own future.

I first thought the sound was some kind of prayer. But who could they be praying to in Underground?

The child never knew I was listening.

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