Periphery//Chapter Five Pt 1

Periphery//Chapter Five Pt 1

"…I've never used a gun before."

"I didn't think so. But it's not hard—just aim and pull the trigger," Columbine said. "Give me your hands."

Lucy did so. Columbine's palms were calloused and her fingers thin, knuckly. Working hands, her mother called them. They aren't pretty, but they work pretty damn well. Lucy didn't have working hands. Hers belonged to a clerk and were better suited to holding a pen than a firearm.

Columbine examined Lucy's hands with her own. The goggles had gone back down over her eyes, and in any case they'd have been of no use. "Hm, I thought so. You have small hands—use both of them when you fire the gun. It'll help you keep it steady," she said, and then pulled a small pistol from her belt and offered it forth.

"Um, thank you, then," Lucy said. She eyed the gun warily and then tucked it into her boot. There was nowhere else to put it, and the metal felt cold against her calf. She didn't want to use it, but if Columbine thought she should be armed for this mission, then she would comply.

Lucy was used to complying.

"All right, let's find that disc."

They left the shop not through the entrance but by way of a trapdoor at the top of the mirror tower. They emerged, of all places, outside; the tower was situated in one of few open corridors that let fresh air down below the pipeline. Most were almost completely covered by New City roads and walkways, but from this one there could be seen a sliver of stars, a small glimpse of wonder to those who lived most of their lives beneath the buildings and structures of others.

Lucy shivered, preferring to glance upward at this than down through the corridor, which faded into darkness not far after the bottom of the tower. Who knew how far down it went? Maybe even to the ground. She, like the vast majority of all citizens, Pipeliners included, had never set foot on the ground. It was a foreign concept.

There was a door next to the tower, which they took back to the innards of the city. Columbine moved with surprising confidence. She must have, Lucy thought, memorized the way. The crowds parted for her most of the time, and even then she seemed to know when a body was in her path. Sight wasn't the only sense available for navigation. Lucy knew without a doubt that Columbine could hear better than any of them. Smell and touch were probably not far behind.

"Uh, Col?"

"Yes, Rhys?"

"Where are we going?"

Columbine slowed her brisk pace and said, almost too soft to hear, "Ground Level."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said."

"But—but—how did it get there? And so quickly?"

She shrugged. "Don't ask me."

"And we're actually going down there?"

"Yes, do you have an issue with that?"

The silence that followed said he did. Lucy didn't blame him. Ground Level was uninhabitable without taking extreme technological measures. Because no one liked going down there (much less living), it was the perfect place for corruption to take place in secret. Not even the city government bothered with regulating the Ground Level.

"If you don't want to go down there—" Columbine started, but Rhys interrupted shortly:

"You know the way?"

"Most. I'll be contacting a few friends as we go for assistance."

"I see. Lead on, then."

And lead she did. Through the halls and corridors of the Pipeline, a part of the city that hadn't seen sunlight in almost a century. There were people here, Lucy realized with shock, who had never once been outside. This was most obvious in the skin colors she saw around her, which were for the most part, very white. What was considered pale in the New City would pass for nicely tanned down here. She tried not to stare at those whose veins showed clearly through the translucency of their skin. This was a common sight and even, it seemed, a cultural item: many of the younger folk had traced their veins with thick lines of color, whether permanent or not Lucy couldn't tell. These tattoos, not always done in the blue or red of blood, made her think of circuit boards, as if the wearers were machines rather than humans.

But of course they weren't. Were they? When they met the android on the platform, he had most certainly been looking for herself and Rhys—had somehow gotten word that the two of them had come after the disc. Their (whoever they were) only mistake had been assuming she and Rhys were acting under orders from, of all people, the Chairman of Dresden Ult. They were, in a way. Lucy was supposed to hand the disc over to Rhys, and he…well, she didn't know exactly what he was supposed to do with it (give it to the Corporal probably), but that was beyond the point.

Oh, but her head was so full of questions! Questions and then some. Lucy wished she could attach a faucet to her head and turn a valve to let it all out.

Presently, she felt a light tugging on her skirts.

"'Scuse me miss, might I ask you somethin'?"

Lucy looked down to find a young girl staring up at her expectantly. She was clean, unlike many of the ruffians dashing about, and as white as freshly fallen snow. The big blue eyes peering out from a mop of tangled brown locks implored her to stop and listen.

"Yes?"

"Are you from up above?"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you an angel?"

Lucy wasn't sure what to say. She held back a short laugh and said, "I'm sorry, no."

The girl looked disappointed, but as if this was something she'd heard before. She let go of Lucy's skirt and put her hands behind her back with an embarrassed shrug.

"Mama always said angels lived up above. People, they come down from the big city, they look like they could be," she said, fixing her gaze on the floor.

Lucy crouched down and put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Do you need an angel?"

Slowly, the big blue eyes came back up. The girl tugged at her hair and rocked back and forth. "Everybody does. Don't you want one? Are there angels up in the New City?"

"If there are, I've never seen one. But that doesn't mean they don’t—"

Something painfully tight clamped around her waist then and jerked her backwards. Her feet left the ground and the little girl screamed, wide eyes fixed on something Lucy couldn't see. Personally, she was far too surprised to yell. She merely squeaked out a little, "Oh!" and clutched at what appeared to be a metal claw around her middle.