Chapter 9

Below

I want our fastest runners posted as sentries. Adults only.No children. I don't want to endanger the children. Oh, by the way,are they safe within?

Kipper returned a few minutes ago. He was the last. Mary is withthem.

Good. Well, get Winslow and Michael to stay with them as well incase...hmm...in case the unthinkable happens. Oh, and tell Pascal Iwant an all-quiet on the pipes. We're going to seal ourselves tight.We'll raise false walls here, here, and here. Mouse will turn off thelights when the intruders have first been sighted...let them wonderaround in the dark for a few hours. Perhaps they'll give up.

Humph! You do not know Chang. He's relentless. If he must search awhole year, he will, 'til he finds a road down here.

It's me he wants. I'm the one who killed Peter. I have to dosomething! Don't you understand? This is my fight!

There will be no fight if we can help it. We'll do everything in ourpower to avoid bloodshed.

What if you can't?

This is our home they threaten. We will do what we must.

You don't know them!

Chang does not know us.

China Moon (Written by Cynthia Benjamin)

Glancing around one last time, Cullen bent down and with both handsheaved, lifting and sliding the drainage lid to one side. Quickly, helowered himself down and straining even more, pulled the lid backinto place. Once again Below, he paused. It felt good to be back inthe underground corridors of his home, and leaning against the cooltunnel wall, he released a pent-up sigh of relief. He was hot andsticky-wet, his clothes clinging to him as if he'd just come in froma downpour. It still stung where salty sweat tracks had run into hiseyes, and pulling a cloth from out of his back pocket, he wiped hisface and sweaty palms. He allowed himself a minute longer to collecthis frayed nerves.

Ever since the incident with the gold, he seldom went Above. Justthe thought of it tied him into knots that took all his concentrationto unravel. He knew in his head that his slip into unbridled greedhad not been the fault of the world Above. It was his, and his alone.His mind could accept it as fact, but his thoughts had little swayover the fear in his heart that he might be tempted again. Hewondered if he would ever feel differently. Even if the others hadforgiven him, including poor Mouse, he didn't trust himself. Hehadn't forgiven himself, and it was the heart, not the mind, thatgranted forgiveness.

If it weren't for the fact that the Council urgently needed thisreport, and that Father had personally asked him to make these tripsAbove, he would have never have gone. If it weren't for the fact thatthe quick surveys of things Above had to be conducted during the day,he would have recommended that Vincent go. But in the bright lightAbove that was burning everything and everyone to a crisp, Vincentwould have had slim to no chance of remaining hidden. Even theshadows Above had seemed to radiate light under the dazzling blaze ofthe sun. At least this time he hadn't become physically ill beforeleaving.

Thinking over the past week, he shook his head sadly. Things werebad Above, very bad. This time of year was always hot, but this yearthe heat was unprecedented. Mid-August now found the state of NewYork caught in the second week of a wretched heat wave that had theentire Northeastern United States seething in record hightemperatures. Under a relentless sun, tar-paved roads gave offshimmering waves where city children played in the shadows ofhigh-rise project buildings, and the elderly sought refuge of anykind from the sweltering heat. Even now, Cullen could feel the hotwaves that seemed to engulf him as he had walked the streets of NewYork, making him wish that his sojourn could have been made in thecomfort of an air-conditioned car. He chuckled to himself, thinkingof Father's expression if he had asked the Council to rent him a carfor this assignment. But his humor was short-lived as he rememberedthe sights he had seen: ambulances speeding up and down, no doubtgoing to aid those who had succumbed to sun stroke and heatexhaustion; the desperation of the people rushing on crowded citystreets, as if the rat race Above wasn't enough to contend with; thewail of police sirens racing to intercept the violence that haderupted along with the brutal heat.

Even the nights brought only modest relief, as overburdenedgenerators struggled to meet the onslaught of residential demands formore electricity to cool sun-baked homes. The results were as futileas they were predictable, with nightly power failures sweepingthrough the city. Hot, sweaty, and short-tempered urban dwellers wereconvinced that nothing short of another ice age would ever be enoughto assuage the unbearable torridity. Then, after only a week underthe unremitting onslaught of soaring temperatures from an unforgivingsun, a new phenomenon began to emerge on and off the streets of NewYork. Traffic accidents doubled, and incidents of gang and domesticviolence as well. In and around the area of Central Park, crime wasat a record high; and even those who were accustomed to the rhythmsand routines of the Park steered clear of it in the midst of dailymuggings and assaults. It was as if the heat, frustrations, andpressures of life Above had finally collided to create a volatilemixture that exploded into senseless acts of violence. The oddsfavored that things would get worse long before they got better; andfor those who had found homes within the secluded sanctuary of thetunnels, it was generally agreed that it was a bad time to liveAbove.

Cullen knew that his family Below generally prided itself on beingtruly separate and apart from the problems that plagued their sisterworld. Still, it was not lost on them that the business of managingand maintaining their virtually utopian society was intrinsicallylinked to the conditions of the world Above. No matter how theenvironment and philosophies of the two worlds differed, theirs was adependent existence: dependent upon the survival of a society fromwhich many of them had fled. Thus, when Father had approached himlast week with the mission of observing first-hand the conditionstop-side, Cullen was fully aware of the significance of hisassignment. The Council needed to know the extent of the problems asseen through the eyes of one of their own.

The special Council meeting would be held this afternoon and,determined to give as current a report as possible, he had decided tomake one final trip. His words would impact heavily on thedeliberations to determine what, if anything, should be done Below inresponse to the state of affairs Above. It was a humbling experienceto realize just how much Father still trusted him.

Pushing away from the wall, Cullen began his trek back to the hub.There would be barely enough time to change his sweat-soaked clothingand arrive promptly to the meeting. He didn't even consider attendingas he was now. The insulation of rock and earth kept Below too coolfor him to attend a meeting that might well last several hours in wetclothes. And while Father might lead the Council, he was first andforemost, a doctor. Cullen could well imagine being ordered out ofthe meeting until he'd gotten into something dry; but what chilledhim even more was to think what would happen if those suffering Aboveknew that relief from the heat was right beneath their feet. Neverbefore had he felt the vulnerability of his adopted home so keenly;and he wondered just how much longer they could keep their secretplace safe. He had to convince them of the danger. He just hadto. With that thought, he picked up his pace and turned down aside tunnel that led to his chamber.

It was early afternoon, and as was customary, Father sat at the headof the table and waited patiently for all the Council members toarrive. William, Mary, and Pascal arrived on time, as usual, withJamie, Cullen, and Rebecca right behind them. Others trickled inuntil every seat at the large center table was occupied. Frominformal discussions he'd overheard in the Commons, he knew thatthere were two prevailing attitudes. Several members felt that theproblem was not yet serious enough to warrant any action on theirpart. It was their position that violence Above was, and would alwaysbe, a fact of life: business as usual. It was simply the result oftoo many people living under a stressful, chaotic social system thatafforded too little love and support and too much avarice, hate, andaggression. With people having to compete for even the basics oflife, it was little wonder that under the sun's blistering heat,mindless acts of violence exploded at the slightest provocation. Inany event, that was all Above, and with a certain degree of diligenceon their part, it would stay there.

Then there were those who insisted that it was only a matter oftime before the desperation and violence Above filtered down intotheir world to threaten their existence. And even if it didn't, howcould they remain passive while others suffered so! Was itcompassionate or prudent to sit by idly and hope that the madnessgripping Above would pass them by? Could they truly afford to flirtwith disaster by merely waiting and hoping it wouldn't touch them?The naive foolishness of such inaction had already been proven withtheir encounter with the Outsiders. If Below was to remain protected,then steps would have to be taken to either avoid or prepare for thepossibility of trouble coming Below. To do otherwise wasirresponsible. These viewpoints and their implications had givenFather little rest over the past few weeks. The precarious foundationupon which their world rested, namely, their inherent dependence uponthe world Above, had been a source of worry for him since their smallcommunity had first established itself within the hidden recesses ofthe tunnels Below. Although the community had grown larger over theyears, and therefore more able to stand on its own, the fact remainedthat they could not supply all of their needs. There were certainfoods that simply would not grow Below, medicines that could not besynthesized, and equipment that they could not manufacture. Now, inthe midst of the crisis Above, never had their fragile existence anddependency weighed so heavy on his shoulders. In truth, they wouldalways remain in debt to the world Above for certain essentials. Yet,must that dependency spell disaster to their community any time aproblem occurred Above? And while Father was inclined toward the ideaof preparing for the worst, there was too much at stake for even himto make the sole decision: thus, he had called an emergency meetingof the Council.

Looking up from the notes he had compiled, Father was notsurprised when Mouse slid in almost ten minutes late. What Father didfind unusual was that Vincent had not yet appeared. Still, with Mousenow present, he was loathe to delay the meeting any longer. Mouse wasthe barometer that the Council had come to accept as the absolutelatest any proceeding could be held up. Thus, clearing his throat,Father brought the attention of their small group full circle tohimself.

"I'd first like to thank all of you for gathering on such shortnotice. I had hoped that this meeting would be unnecessary, butrecent reports indicate that things Above may be far worse than wesuspected. Upon my request, Cullen has served as our observer Abovefor the past week. Cullen, please be so kind as to report yourfindings."

Cullen ran his long, graceful fingers through the top of histhinning hairline and looked around the table. It was apparent thathe was nervous, and everyone understood his discomfort. Althoughforgiven, no one on the Council could forget the time of "madness"that led an irrational Cullen to stab Mouse and compromise thesecurity of the tunnels. Yet, looking around, he could see theunderstanding of all present, and clearing his throat, he took a deepbreath, and began.

"To discover the extent of the unrest Above, for the past weekI've gone above twice daily: once during the day and once at night.I'm afraid to say that it's really bad up there, worse than anythingI've ever seen. The heat Above has people popping off left andright."

"Popping off?..." Father interrupted.

"Forgive me Father, acting strange, hostile I guess would be abetter way to put it. People are ready to fight at the least insult,inconvenience, or provocation. And it's not just the groups you'dexpect, like gangs. Arguments occur at the drop of a hat, and tempersare flaring everywhere. I think it's the heat, but it's alsofear...it's an oppressive, pervasive fear that's so thick you can cutit with a knife. The strangest part is that I couldn't put a fingeron why. For example, near the Park, vagrants are fighting over thescraps they would usually share with one another. I still considermyself relatively new down here compared to many of you, but I knowAbove, and I've never seen the people so afraid and so willing tolash out without thought. In my opinion, it's extremely dangerous upthere. It's a time bomb just waiting to blow, and I'll admit it's gotme worried. If this craziness should come Below . . . . ."

No one needed Cullen to explain further as his words sent acollective shudder down the heart of their group. All who had fledBelow knew the kind of mindless violence that could grip the worldAbove. Yet, it was even the hint that their world could be revealedthat suddenly immobilized the Council, making words difficult. Asusual, William got his voice back before the others and leaning athick, muscular arm across the table, he fixed Cullen with askeptical eye.

"Maybe you're too new with us to know some of the stuff we've hadto face down here, but we're not as weak as we may seem. A fewheat-crazed topsiders are hardly enough to close down shop, Cullen!We can protect our home and our own if the need arises. Just let oneof them try to get down here!"

"William, there you go again," Mary interrupted quietly, "lookingto violence to solve everything. Those people up there are scared todeath! Just think of what our Helpers must be facing now! We shouldbe considering how we can offer them assistance. If things are thatbad, they must be living a nightmare!"

"Excuse me," William interjected with enough emphasis for all toknow that he'd taken offense at Mary's rebuke. "To set the recordstraight, I'm as concerned as anyone here about the safety of ourHelpers, but my first obligation is right here, Below! How are wegoing to help others when we can't help ourselves? Diplomacy's finearound this table, but Above it's a different game. If they're gonnause force, we'd better be prepared to meet it with some force of ourown."
"Just one minute," Jamie's voice broke in, deliberately cuttingWilliam off in mid-sentence. "Is your idea of preparing a defensebased on using Vincent to protect our entire community? 'Cause if itis, you can toss that out right now. Vincent isn't a one-man army,William. We're all in this together."

"Of course I'm not suggesting that Vincent is our only source ofdefense, but we'd all be lying not to admit that he's a big part ofit," William stammered, as Jamie's remark reminded them all of a timewhen William had, in fact, suggested that Vincent was their secretweapon to unleash.

It was overwhelming relief that had permeated the Great Hall whenVincent stepped forward to confront the intruders and rid their worldof the violent Outsiders. Likewise, everyone remembered the aftermathof that bloody confrontation. All of the Outsiders, with theexception of a child, had been killed. Vincent was wounded from agunshot wound inflicted by that lone child; and in the midst of somuch death wrought by his hands, he was overwhelmed with despair andself-loathing. It was then, in shame and guilt, that the Councilacknowledged that they had given no thought to Vincent's well-being.In their fear they had seen him only as their first and only line ofassault, defense and protection.

William was a good man at heart, but he still found it difficultat times to comprehend how someone as seemingly invincible as Vincentshouldn't be used to protect them all. Hastily, now, he added, "Thedefense of our home is a responsibility we all share, but we need toformulate a plan of action if we're not to use Vincent. That's allI'm suggesting. Conditions as Cullen described just can't beignored."

"So exactly what do you suggest?" Jamie asked.

To this, William had no reply, but from the far end of the table,Rebecca reached over to gently touch Mary's hand, and smiled at theolder woman. "I'd like to suggest that we keep Mary's comments inmind regarding our Helpers. I'd certainly be willing to share what Ihave with any Above who may need to seek sanctuary here. And yes, Irealize that we barely have enough for our own growing family, but weshould be able to at least help those who may need to come Below forprotection. It shouldn't be that many, since most of our Helpers havebusinesses and jobs Above that they can't just pick up and leave. ButI do believe that we should make the offer of sanctuary; especiallyto the elderly and those most vulnerable to the heat."

"It seems we always have so little to offer our Helpers in theirhour of need and look at how much they've done for us time and timeagain," Mary added.

Pascal's calm voice entered the discussion. "Mary, we can onlyoffer what we have. That is what really counts, and I agree withRebecca. We can offer our sanctuary to those Helpers who most needit. They've already shown their loyalty in keeping our secret, sothey wouldn't constitute a security problem."

"OK everyone....of course we'll be here for our Helpers regardlessof whether there's a crisis Above or not---that's a given," Jamieadded impatiently. "The point we seem not to want to address is whatremains to be done about the threat of discovery or the violencecoming Below?"

"Jamie, you can't really be siding with William's viewpoint!" Marysaid with obvious shock.

"Mary, remember, I do sentry duty. I saw what happened when that man,Snow, came into our tunnels, and we all saw the aftermath of theOutsiders. All I'm saying is that William has a point. Certainly, wecan offer sanctuary to our Helpers. We've had Helpers staying with usbefore. The real problem we've got to tackle is how do we getourselves prepared for the worse! And if that's siding with William,then yeah, I guess I am. All I know is that I'm determined that wedon't get caught again unprepared to defend ourselves with no otherrecourse than to hide behind Vincent!"

Although Jamie was definitely moving pushing the Council in theright direction, Cullen got the impression that her words were stillfalling on deaf ears. Despite the fact that she was assigned totunnel security, she remained one of the youngest members of theCouncil. Her voice needed the backing of a more experienced member tocarry the weight this problem needed, not to mention that the Councilwasn't inclined to choose an aggressive stand as the best solution totheir problem. And yet, Cullen knew first-hand the desperation Above.He had seen the hopelessness and the fear, and most of all, therage. There had to be a way to make the others understand aswell. With barely contained frustration, he looked around the tableat each member in turn, seeking out the older members for a glimmerof support. When no one met his gaze, Cullen decided to give it onemore try. Rising to his feet, he raised his voice to be heard byeveryone in the chamber.

"As Jamie just said, offering our help to our Helpers and otherswho we trust is all well and good, but what good will that do if wedon't protect ourselves? The threat to our way of life is just beyondthe thresholds of the outer tunnels; and don't kid yourselves: it's avery real threat. We need, at the very least, to develop a plan ofdefense should our perimeter be broken by desperate people who aren'tnearly as peace loving as we are!"

Cullen knew his voice had risen in agitation, and he was verynearly trembling with the effort to shake his point into the Councilwhen Rebecca spoke up.

"It's been difficult Above before, Cullen, and I just can't seehow this is so much more different than the other times." Turning tolook at Father, she continued. "We already have defensive measures inplace that have stood us well. Does this situation warrant even morepreparation for violence? Surely once things cool off things will goback to normal. And in the meantime, I say that we wait it out."

From the moment that Rebecca began to speak, Cullen realized thathis words had fallen on deaf ears. It was hopeless. They'd neverunderstand the magnitude of the danger on his words alone, and withthat realization, the energy seemed to drain from him. Slowly takinghis seat, he responded to Rebecca's words, but not once did his eyesleave Father.

"Waiting it out is hardly a practical solution, Rebecca, unlesswe've also devised a plan of defense against the possibility of beingdiscovered while we hide out down here. We are at risk here Ð andthe difference is that people are "looking" for an escape from theheat and madness up there. No one can guarantee that those who findtheir way into our tunnels will be kind-hearted and loving, and wecan't just bury our heads in the sand and hope that no one willstumble down here. Can't anyone see that? Father?"

Father felt compelled to respond to Cullen, and so clearing hisvoice, he took back the floor. "Cullen, we've heard your words, trulywe have. However, exactly what would greater defensive measuresentail? Should we now arm the sentries with guns? Do we set up falsepassageways that lead to sheer drops? Do we barricade themselves in?How much would be enough so that we could breathe easy?"
Father's words were like a heavy blanket covering everything that hadgone on before and silence once again filled the room as each memberconsidered the problem.
What kind of defensive measures could they take and to what extent?If they were to separate themselves from the world Above, exactly howfar would they need to limit their contact to consider themselvessafe Below?...and for how long? Then there were the day to dayoperations of their community to be considered: the regular pick-upof foods and medicines, the exchange of news and information, thepurchase of tools and materials, all essential parts of theirsurvival.

In a sudden flurry of rising from his place near the bottom of thelibrary stairs, Mouse stood and interjected. "No good! We can't cutourselves off. What happens to the pick-ups? We still need food,medicines, and we still need to go Above to find things; things weneed!"

With a tolerant smile, Father now responded, "For your sake,Mouse, that's the best reason I've heard for barricading ourselvesdown here."

The attempt to lighten the mood had its desired effect as Mary andJamie shared knowing glances and William and Pascal laughed outright.Turning several shades of red, Mouse glared at the two men andmuttered, "Mouse doesn't take other people's things anymore, onlystuff that they throw away!"

Father noticed the stiffness as Mouse resumed his seat, andimmediately thought better of his hasty words. They had eased thetension, but at Mouse's expense. Raising his hand to get everyone'sattention, he looked at Mouse. "Mouse, please pardon my words. Theywere truly said in jest, and you are correct, limiting our contactAbove would have far-reaching consequences. And yet, the safety ofour homes and families must remain of utmost concern overinconvenience or comfort. So it would seem we are all in agreementwith offering sanctuary to any of our Helpers who need it at thistime."

As Father paused, he noticed that both Mary and Rachel werenodding in apparent approval, as was the rest of the Council. Takinga deep breath, he continued. "However, I feel it only prudent that weconsider Cullen's recommendation and address the issue of ourdefense. Before you object, let me say that being prepared to defendour home does not automatically mean we must use violence to solvewhatever problems occur. I, like the rest of you, am weary ofviolence, Above and Below. Still, it remains our responsibility as aCouncil to consider every conceivable possibility and have acontingency in place. As much as I'm inclined to diminish theseverity of the problems Above for the sake of my own peace of mind,it still remains that Cullen has brought us news of a growing dangerthat we cannot ignore.

As Father scanned the faces before him for a reaction to hiswords, he spotted a familiar form standing in the shadows of thestaircase. As still as a statue, Vincent now stood next to Mouse.When had he arrived? Father wondered, and why was he soobviously reluctant to join in the discussion?

Father took note of his son's rigid stand, and knew at once thatVincent was ill at ease with what had been discussed. Still, hisvoice would have to be heard. Vincent, more than any other on theCouncil, was familiar with the dark side of the world outside theirsafe place. Allowed only the freedom of the night, his had been alifetime of nocturnal observations. He had witnessed the widespectrum of topsider violence, and Father was aware that to his son'sregret, on occasion he had been a participant in it. Father knewVincent's words would offer little room for disagreement. He would beheard, and as always, his logic would be sound. Regardless of whatthey felt otherwise, Vincent was the Protector of their world, theone who had proven his willingness to die more than once to keepalive the dream of their society. Thus, no matter what his reasonswere for remaining aloof, Father knew the issues raised were simplytoo important for him to abstain. Thus, Father nodded over to thearea where his son stood.

"Vincent, we're glad you were able to join us," he said in a tonethat echoed a faint reproach. "Please, come and tell us your feelingson this matter."

As heads turned toward the staircase, Vincent stepped forward andcame to stand by Father's side. That he addressed the Council besideFather definitely indicated to all where his sentiments lay. Yet, ashe began to speak, his deep, resonating voice was steady with thereason Father knew Vincent would bring to the discussion. Within thequiet chamber, Vincent's low voice held the slightest hint of hislisp, a signal to Father that Vincent felt deeply about the problem.Yet, Vincent was not one to mince the truth to please any of them,especially when it came to the safety of their home. His words wouldbe true. Thus, leaning back in his chair, Father fixed his focustotally on Vincent.

"I have heard many of your comments today, but I am of the opinionwith Cullen, William, and Jamie that there is more at risk than wemay realize. Under the austere heat that parches Above and hasbrought out the worse in so many, we must remember that others existwho know of these tunnels. There are those who live by a code ofviolence or who are governed by their addiction to drugs or alcohol.These persons often find no sanctuary in either of our societies,Above or Below, but they are aware of the tunnels and may seek themnow for sanctuary."

Vincent now paused, and the struggle within him was obvious. Forone so committed to peace, Vincent knew he must now tell the Councilwords of war. A part of him grieved for the horrors that he hadperceived in their current situation. It appeared, though, that onlyhe would be able to make them see. And thus he continued, his voicefilling the chamber with a somber sadness, but totally resolute inhis determination that the Council realize the true extent of thecrisis.

"The balance we maintain with Above, the balance we maintain withothers who live here among us; the safeguards we have established toinsure our safety and our secrecy. . .these all are threatened bywhat is happening Above. In the past there has been no need for thoseoutside our world or on its fringes to look in our direction. Yet, Ifeel that the odds are great that under the very nature of thiscrisis, this will change as more desperate people seek refuge fromthe heat Above. The frequently used drainage entrances within ourupper levels empty into the Park. These are the most accessibleopenings to our world, and even the sentries cannot guarantee safetyfrom all intruders."

Pausing to look around the room, Vincent turned compassionate eyeson Rebecca as he continued. "This time is different from the others.We hold within the dark coolness of our world the very relief thatthose who know of these tunnels will seek if this heat wave continuesto parch the world above."

And even before Rebecca looked away with troubled eyes, Vincenthad turned his focus upon Mary. "The most eminent danger I foresee isless to our structures here deep Below where none but those mostfamiliar with our world can safely traverse its networks. The dangerlurking so close at hand is to our children, Mary. They are the leastable to defend themselves and yet the most likely to innocentlystumble upon the human predators from Above who may find their waypast the upper levels of the tunnels."

No one was really surprised at the audible gasp that escaped fromMary, and yet everyone was amazed at their own failure to notice theobvious omission of the children from the previous discussions.Understanding the impact of his words on the others, Vincent pausedto let their meaning sink in. But then, ruthlessly, he continued topaint the picture of their plight.

"As it was for many of us who grew up here as children, the Parkis the playground for our young ones who, with or without ourpermission, are able to escape unnoticed and go Above. Cullen'sobservations have confirmed that the violence in the Park continuesto escalate. It has little motivation, and even less reason. Itmatters not who it is directed at, and it doesn't care whether it isadult or child. It is a madness which can be ignited tooinconsequentially for us to ignore. So I'll tell you of my fears, andthey lie with the children. The children of our world must beprotected at any cost."

Turning away from Mary, Vincent now looked at Cullen. "Cullen wasborn and raised in the world Above. He spent much of his adulthood inthat land. So I find it difficult to understand why we would questionso strongly the reality of his observations. None of us welcome themessage he brings. I have no more desire for our safe place to beviolated than any of you, and I have sworn to never again be thereason for violence to touch our world Below. But this is my home;the home where I raise my son. And you are my family. As much as manyof you have decried William's words, the facts are inexplicable. I doprotect this world. For all that you have done in nurturing me,sheltering me, and loving me, I see it not as an imposition, but asan honor to defend our home with my life. As you all know, this isalso a part of who and what I am. For me, there is no other way."

With that, Vincent walked back to the stairs, where he stoodbeside Mouse. Suddenly, it was no longer a question to the Council ofwhether anything needed to be done for their defense and protection:it was only a matter of what. Ideas were tossed around, butultimately, they found themselves coming back to the one decisionthey most hated to enforce. For the sake of the children, however, aconsensus was finally reached. It was agreed that until theheat-induced madness had passed, contact with the world Above wouldbe limited to all but the most necessary trips topside. Furthermore,without exception, the children were expressly forbidden to ventureoutside the inner perimeters of their world. All tunnel entrances tothe heart of their community would be changed with sentries doubled.And finally, for the first time in the history of their community,each adult would be armed. Those with self-defense and firearmexperience would be enlisted to teach the others so that no one wouldbe left completely defenseless.

Father visibly winced as he put into words, and thus into law, thefinal decision reached by the Council. As he finished, the silence ofthe chamber was oppressive, and he found himself compelled to seekout the countenance of his son. Staring across the room, father andson locked eyes. In the somber expression of his son, Father saw thepain Vincent felt at the measures his words had brought into being.Both of them knew the monumental task ahead for them to preserve thesecrecy and safety of their world. The virtual severing of their tiesto life Above, no matter how temporary, would test the very tenet oftheir beliefs and challenge the commitment of every man, woman, andchild among them.

It had long been accepted by all that it was Vincent's fate to beexcluded from much of life Above. However, the option to remain orventure topside had always been there for the others. Now Father wasforced to question if they could truly survive such a separation oftheir world from Above and still live the ideals that were thecornerstone of their community. Would the strain of cutting theumbilical cord drive them to the near barbaric conditions thatprevailed before their community was established? Fear clutched atFather's heart as he thought that they may have opened themselves toa kind of madness that was only different from the insanity Above inits source.

Realizing that the other members had picked up on his misgivings,Father quickly collected himself and searched for the right words toreassure the solemn faces gathered before him. It was obvious thatVincent and he were not the only ones to realize the full impact oftheir decision today. Heaven help us, he thought wearily. Nomatter how he tried, Father found that he could not get around thelump in his throat. There was simply nothing he could say to make thesituation more bearable, and so he stopped trying and somberlyadjourned the meeting.

Silently, the Council vacated the chamber, and after a shortwhile, Father looked up to discover only Vincent remained. Carefullyfolding his glasses and laying them aside on the table, Fathersteeped his fingers and said, "My God, Vincent, what are we going todo?....."

Vincent looked steadily at Father, waiting for him to admit whatthey both knew in their hearts.

"No......Vincent....."

Walking to the table, Vincent leaned toward Father They had beenthrough too much in building and maintaining their world to dancearound the fact of Vincent's role as protector when danger stood justoutside their boundaries. He would have Father confident, knowingthat he was ready and completely accepting of whatever needed to bedone to keep them safe.

"Yes, Father. We will close our doors tightly, giving sanctuary tothose we are certain will keep our secret, and we will stand watchover our world until this time is past, until the violence no longerthreatens our family. And if all we do is not enough, and the madnesscomes beyond our perimeters and threaten the heart of our community,then you will let me go."

Father made as if he would interrupt, but Vincent now stood andturned to leave the chamber. He had no wish to hear platitudes tosoften what he and Father already knew: that he would defend hisworld to the death, and willingly kill any who threatened his familyand friends.

Before he could reach the threshold that would send him into thetunnels, Father's voice called out, "Vincent, how can I allow you tobe used this way again as a weapon for our protection?"

With something akin to a smile, Vincent now turned and looked atFather fondly. This was perhaps the first time that Father seemed tounderstand, really comprehend, the price of the protection affordedby Vincent. It was thanks enough to him that Father finallyunderstood that each time their world came under threat, Vincentrelinquished control, giving full reign to that part of himself thatwas a warrior and reveled in the hunt, gloried in the kill.

"There is nothing for you to allow, Father. The choice is mine. Italways has been. But this time, there is more. The danger is real. Ifeel it even now surrounding us. And I feel it in here," and Vincenttouched his chest. "It's like knowing a battle is imminent, and yourblood begins to sing, your muscles tighten with anticipation of thekill."

Vincent chose not to acknowledge the look Father now bestowed uponhim. He knew his words of battle and death bothered Father greatly,and he would never have admitted to anyone else that a part of himrelished the coming confrontation. But since Catherine's death andthe birth of Jacob, he had been forced to face much about himself.His need to protect his family had no tidy boundaries of propriety.It was a ruthless compulsion to crush any who should threaten thesafety and welfare of those he loved. It was that simple and thatdeadly. It was a part of him, a part of what made him the man, thebeing that he was.

Father, I will not reject my role in the defense of our home nor willI reject that part of me that allows me to keep safe all I hold dear.If I must kill, then so be it. I will not hide from that trutheither.

"But what it does to you, Vincent . . ." Father whispered.

"Perhaps not as much as you supposed. I believe I often didit to myself in my rejection of that other part of me. I am,Father, what I am; and it is good, sometimes, to remember that evendarkness has a purpose. I choose to use my darkness so that the lightof our world will continue to shine. There is no disgrace in that. Soplease Father, do not worry. We will prevail."

Or I will die trying....Vincent thought as he headed out of thechamber and into the darkness beyond.

Josiah carefully packed each item in the cardboard box, layeringthe bottom of the box with hardy vegetables, such as carrots, onions,and cucumbers, and then the fruit and soft vegies. He was especiallycareful not to bruise the tomatoes and grapes. Finally, he set on toptwo loaves of freshly baked bread which had been thickly sliced andwrapped securely. It wasn't a big delivery, but he knew it would bewelcomed by Mrs. Carmichael in the seniors assisted living home on116th Avenue. The grocery store's modest sprinkler system which kepttheir produce fresh, as well as the walk-in freezer and refrigerator,had finally "died" earlier in the day. For Honig's Fresh Fruitsand Vegetables, the loss of their refrigeration was the finalblow to the small family-owned grocery whose trademark was freshproduce. Faced with the worse heat wave New York had everexperienced, Honig's had been one of the few remainingneighborhood businesses in the area; and now they, too, had fallenvictim to a natural phenomenon that none had seen coming.

If truth be known, there was a certain irony in it all. For morethan forty years, James Honig, the store's owner, had struggled tokeep the doors of his family owned grocery open. In a stroke ofbrilliance, his father had purchased the small corner lot onManhattan Island in the 1920s, never knowing at the time that hisdream of a family business would one day stand on what was valued asprime real estate now worth over a hundred times more than the storeitself. Though tempted to sell on more than one occasion, James Honighad always made more than enough money from the store. So, forreasons far above the understanding of those who wanted his property,he had spent his life fighting to keep his store and all that itrepresented: the hopes and dreams of his Jewish emigrant parents andthe embodiment of the American dream in his lifetime.

Over the years he had protected his dream from dirty politics(proving that one could fight City Hall and win); attempts at hostiletakeovers by corporate financiers; threats and the violent strong-armtactics of developers; and even one incident of arson. Yet, in theend, it was the weather that had finally succeeded where all theothers had failed. That, and the fact that the constant battle forsurvival had taken its toll on James Honig's health. The elderlystorekeeper had lived in the neighborhood all of his life. He had runthe store, after his father's death, since the early 1950s, andnothing short of a natural disaster would have ever made him stop.However, he had lost both his sons to the Vietnam War, and plagued bytwo minor strokes and pressure from his married daughters, it was, infact, a natural disaster that had convinced him that the time hadfinally come. He had decided that he would be shutting his doors forgood at the end of the day. He'd defied the odds and stayed on hisown terms. It was time, now, for him to leave on his own terms.

Josiah took a minute to catch his breath and looked up toward theshort hallway that separated the store room from the small grocerybeyond. Mr. Honig stood outlined before the door, his wire-rimmedglasses slipping down his nose as he pulled out a worn handkerchieffrom beneath the white apron that he wore and paused to wipe hisbrow. He looked up suddenly, now noticing Josiah's sad stare. Withunderstandable nostalgia, the young man and his boss looked at eachother in silent communication. Then Josiah turned away from thehallway and began to pack a second box.

The two men made somewhat of an odd pair. Josiah was tall, arobust man whose physique would look more at home on a constructionsite than in a small store room packing vegetables. James Honig, wassmaller and shorter, but he held himself with a dignity that hadcommanded the respect of city officials, businessmen, and even theneighborhood gangs and bullies. He was an aging Jewish store ownerwho, with pit bull determination and tenacity, had made a differencein the lives of many. Oddly enough, he didn't regret the store'sclosing, since it would give him the time he now craved to be withhis grandchildren and perhaps pass on to them the same stubborndetermination. And now that he had heard from Father and knew thatJosiah had been accepted Below, to be with friends who would seeafter his strong, but gentle, store clerk, the last of his worrieshad fled.

"Are you almost finished?" Mr. Honig asked mildly.

His voice held obvious affection for the young man, and Josiahnodded to his boss and mentor. Walking over to his store clerk, theolder man quickly looked over his work and nodded his head inapproval. The familiar tinkle of a bell rippled pleasantly through tothe back room. Mr. Honig waved for Josiah to continue packing. Today,his final day as store owner, he had waited on each and everycustomer personally. As he stepped from the hallway back into hisstore, he noticed something amiss, and walking around the counter,spotted the problem immediately. Someone had pulled down the shadethat covered the front door's glass window. Kids, he thoughtwith a rueful shake of his head. Even today, of all days, they hadto play their pranks.

Easily he made his way over to the door and stooped to yank thecord that would pull the shade back up. It was only then that henoticed the shadow to his right, but before he could stand, hisvision suddenly blurred as excruciating pain shot through hisback....no, not his back, his entire middle felt like it was on fire.It couldn't be a heart attack, some dim part of his mind told him,but even as the thought appeared, his eyes gravitated down to wherethe bloody gleam of a wicked knife protruded through the front of hischest. Ahhh.... he thought, not a heart attack after all,but a knife through it. In what seemed to him an eternity,gravity and impending death finally forced him to the floor in acrumpled heap. He couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Each gasp todraw in air ripped at his chest, each push to expel triggeredreflexes in his throat, filling his lungs with fluid and gagging himon the salty, metallic taste of his own blood. With dimmingawareness, he knew he was dying. He could feel the cold floor beneathhim, but it was a bitter coldness that seeped into him, drawing awayhis heat and his life.

He didn't wonder at what had happened or bemoan the injustice ofit: he had been prepared for death throughout his life. No, in thosefinal moments, all he could think was that finally he would see hisSarah again, and though he was sad to disappoint his daughters, heknew they would understand. It was his time: time for him, time forhis store. His store . . . even in death, we are linked, hethought. In the end, he was in his store, and to James Honig, thatwas a good thing. With one more agonized breath, his chest spasmed ina final rattle that was barely audible in the silence, and he diedthinking of his store, the hint of a smile frozen on his face.

Standing quietly in the shadows, waiting for the old man to die,John Spirko wondered what he had found to make him smile in the faceof death. Crazy, he thought a moment later as he reached across thebody to click the lock on the door and flip over the sign in thesingle display window, announcing to the unsuspecting world beyondthat the store was closed. He now looked back to where the old manhad first emerged. John Spirko, the killer, was still hunting. JamesHonig had not been the objective, merely in the wrong place at thewrong time. It was his clerk, the one called Josiah, that John hadcome to kill.

For the past week John had watched the store, the old man, and thestore clerk. He liked the fact that Josiah was a man of few words,and he was also close to John in height and build. The man seemedperfect for John Spirko's needs. The store owner and Josiah were wellknown to the world Below as Helpers, and he doubted he'd find anotheras easy to impersonate as the quiet, big man. It was his personality,however, that John still had reservations about. Tamara had told himthat the man was slow, and that's all John needed to hear to rejecthim. Even he didn't think he could pull off impersonating a retard.But then Tamara had clarified the situation: he wasn't a completeidiot, just slow enough to make him harmless; slow enough to make himwelcome in Vincent's tunnel community. It was that final incentivethat had convinced John that Josiah was the man he needed, or rather,Josiah's head.

'Bring me the face . . .' Tamara's voice echoed inhis mind. The old bitch had one strange hobby, but she was damn goodat what she did, and this was his best chance to infiltrate the worldBelow. Accepted into the heart of Vincent's world, he could carry outhis plan of revenge on that freak of nature who had killed hisbrother. With the advantage of Josiah's face as his disguise, hewould now have the means to not only destroy Vincent, but those whohad harbored him. As for the monster's child . . .he would take him.The kid was only two, young enough to forget his life underground,and it was only fair: a life for a life. Bernie's life for thelion man's kid. That was justice.

'Bring me the face . . .'

And with a grim smile, John Spirko moved toward the back room withthe deadly grace of a predator to do just that.