Kieran tensed up at Aura’s rebuke. Perhaps it had been simply what had run through his mind before he had spoken, or maybe it had been how quickly she had decided to dismiss him. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, but he did not respond. [i]How could she think things are so simple?[/i] He wondered. Thankfully, she seemed as eager to change the subject as he was, so he watched as she produced a paper and began to draw out what she knew about Loor’s house. As she did, things seemed less hopeful. A house on the sea provided scant methods of escape. He weighed the various considerations in his mind--trying his best to extrapolate what he could from Aura’s drawing and descriptions. No sea escape could be feasibly pulled off without the express help of the AA--something he wasn’t even sure at this point if he wanted. Sure, he could ask for a boat to be placed, but tipping his hand too much would likely cause AA to try to crack down on this resistance far too early. Jeopardizing his deal with Aura and likely causing the resistance movement to slink back into the shadows in the process. Not to mention Aura’s group would likely slaughter her in the process. They needed a means of pleasing both sides without tipping the other of what was happening. AA needed to feel like progress was being made, and those in Atlantic needed to feel like they received valuable information. Enough to ensure they take bigger risks. Bigger leaps. Expose themselves to AA. And when the two groups fought, perhaps then was the chance to escape via the chaos. There was no honor in it, really. Kieran knew that and grew more and more uncomfortable with his prospects with each passing day. But what other choice did they have? As 11 struck, he looked to Aura. “I’ll do what I can about the laptop. But you won’t have to do anything to Loor. That’s a fucking promise.” [center]***[/center] Long after Aura left Kieran still found himself wandering the streets near The Square. He simply couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was the few hours he had received or the fact that the cold, concrete bunker he had found himself in earlier seemed constraining, but in either case, he doubted he’d get more than an hour or so. Not enough to be worth it. Past curfew, Apex was almost entirely a ghost town. In other districts, he may be more inclined to be careful outside. The more overzealous enforcers would likely tackle first and ask questions later, but here in The Square, he was well-known. He walked past one or two enforcers per street--each giving a small nod of approval as they continued their rounds. To see the town in this light was a privilege in and of itself. Kieran was free to roam the streets at night--not to live in fear of Apex itself swallowing you up in the darkness. It was a luxury few had. Certainly not Aura, nor any of those she cared for back at home. As he wandered, something seemed almost to bite at his mind. A pang sent him towards the nearest train. He approached the window; flashing his stamp to the night guard. “I need to get to subsection A.” “You’ll need more than that to get a ride at this hour,” the man behind the counter said. He gave a wry smile--he seemed to enjoy telling Kieran to get lost. But that smile soon faded as Kieran produced his black seal, and spoke barely above a whisper: [i]“Monacle.”[/i] [center]***[/center] As Kieran’s train approached subsection A, there was a noticeable difference in light. Out here at night, aside from the city streets, many in the poorer districts relied on little more than candles and perhaps some solar hanging lights discovered from before the Blight. Yet here, luminescence poured through the windows of the train long before it came to a stop at Gateway Station. Stepping out of the car, Kieran was immediately assaulted with stimuli. While he was the only one aboard his station, he stood across the train platform from several loud, boisterous party-goers awaiting a train. Dressed to the nines, this group of about a dozen people shone with a sort of cleanliness Kieran had rarely seen before. Brilliantly groomed hair. Tailored clothes. Tight ties and black pumps. This group seemed to be a history book sprung to life. It was the type of person Kieran was led to believe was commonplace before the Blight. Happy, smiling people, full of life. Expressing themselves in art. Working from computers, not with their hands. And perhaps prescient of all, drawing out the night with expensive meals and neon drinks. [i]”They made music. They made art. They made games for the rest of us to enjoy.”[/i] Aura’s works banged through his head, but he quickly moved forward. There was work to do here. He stepped off of the platform and into a crowd of people filling the road. His eyes burned by the lights out here--every street lamp was brilliantly cold in its electric burn. People seemed to mill about, paying little attention to Kieran, as he deftly navigated down the street and towards the sea. As he moved, he brushed past people left and right--his nose assaulted by the chemical stench of their perfumes. And as he did so, he noticed they recoiled similarly to him--their noses lifted and their eyes averting. Perhaps they felt the same way about his scent as he about theirs. Here, the retrograde buildings had been repaired well and built upon. Above him, colossuses of buildings rose seemingly into the infinite. The night sky was blotted out by the light, the structures, and the excess. Was all the world this mad before the Blight? He pressed on--still--moving towards what he had known to be the sea. After another half-hour and a tip from a local Enforcer, he was able to find it. Loor’s estate. The structure was massive, as Aura had said. Tall columns lined the front door. Luxurious cars lined the long and wooded driveway--strangely enough in subsection A, people used the roads for driving, not just for walking. A party seemed to be going on here, even tonight. As Kieran walked alongside the road and towards the next home, he looked down and over to what seemed to be a basement. And a door, underneath the long, wraparound deck that lined the back of the home. Looking around, he could see that the others nearby--the wealth of subsection A--had been paying him little attention. In fact, aside from their dismissal at his bumping into them, he had noticed that very few people had even turned an eye his way. At first, he thought perhaps it was due to the darkness of his clothes, hair, and beard. But the more he thought, the more he realized--he was clearly a working man. Part of the fabric of the town, but not a resident of it. He suddenly felt no more or less important than the bars they frequented, or the roads they stepped on as they walked past. Perhaps he could use this to his own advantage. Double-checking that no one looked his way, Kieran moved through the yard of the neighboring home and towards this back door. As he approached, he could see more clearly what it led to. Little more than a few feet from the door, against the hill towards the front of the home, was a hatch. Some sort of escape, it seemed. He approached, trying his best not to attract the attention of those above him on the deck. As he moved under the deck, he was forced to blink several times. Above him, the shuffling and raucous noise of the party was sifting dirt through the cracks of the deck and down towards him. Kieran tried to pay it no mind as he approached the hatch built into the side of the hill. It opened easily and fairly silently--it seemed this hatch had been well-maintained. Inside, and with the help of a flashlight, Kieran continued on. The path here was all concrete, lining the floors, walls, and ceiling. On the ground, small gaps in the flooring allowed stagnant water to flow down grates and likely towards the sea. The path here curved a bit, first downward, then to the right and towards the south. As he continued, the sounds of the party faded into oblivion. It was another ten minutes of walking before the pathway finally seemed to join with another. Here, a single bronze arrow, bolted into the concrete, pointed in one direction. The other way, Kieran assumed, was to another home. He moved quickly now--as the pathway joined with other, and more bronze arrows led the way. Eventually, the path curved upward, and Kieran was faced with another familiar hatch. He opened it carefully. Out here, the air seemed to breathe a saltier tinge than before. His boots stepped out onto wet sand. Behind him, flush with the hatch, was a tall, towering ridge, and behind it, Apex itself. Ahead was a short shoreline, and then the sea. To the right seemed to be more shoreline, but to the left, just a few feet down, was a massive boardwalk extended out towards the sea. A retrograde construction by the looks of it, as the building atop dipped and sagged. In some places, the boardwalk had opened up a hole and sucked much of the building in with it. But underneath, several motorized boats sat in waiting. An escape. [center]***[/center] Kieran had spent the rest of the night--as well as the following morning and afternoon--thinking on his plan. If he could just find a way to get Aura down through that basement, and over to the hatch, they were home free. He could easily sail back to Port Apex, where the port boys would easily cover for him and the two could hide in his own home. Perhaps not the wisest of places, but it was an easy out. Perhaps, too easy. Finding a way to get out of that party was going to be the hard part. He had spent much of the day, aside from his thoughts, attending to his appearance. He was able to find a good barber in The Square that had electric clippers, ensuring his beard and hair were well-trimmed. He bathed--twice, actually--first in the sea, then in the communal showers of the local Apex Enforcer precinct. A strange explanation to the men at first, but a necessary move--as Enforcers had access to the electric tools and perfumes he’d need to clean up and look the part. As he had left, he pulled an Enforcer aside. He flashed his black seal, spoke his codework, and put in his request: “I need to be on the guestlist for Gerald Loor’s party tonight. My number is #3B149. Put me down as security. And I’ll need their outfits as well.” “Christ, you’re going in deep,” the Enforcer replied. “I can do it, but this must be a pretty big score for Apex to have you fucking around at Loor’s place.” “It is, trust me,” Kieran had smirked back. “Fucking traitors won’t know what hit them.” He felt a pang in his chest as he lied to the officer. He tried not to show it on his face. “Just don’t fuck up, okay?” the enforcer continued as he jotted down Kieran’s request in a notebook. “No black seal is going to save you from Loor’s wrath if you cross him.” [center]***[/center] Adorned in an all-black tuxedo (standard for Loor’s bodyguards), Kieran had taken a car of all rides to the party. After arriving in subsection A, he had been pulled aside by an Enforcer and given his change of clothes. From there, he had been put into a larger car (perhaps they were called vans?) with the other bodyguards and driven to the party. He exchanged pleasantries with the other bodyguards, who hardly knew each other to begin with. As it turned out, Loor hired various bodyguards for security. It was common for them not to know each other, much to Kieran’s benefit. So he sat and waited--trying not to be nauseated by the incredibly fast speed of the car. It seemed also like a dream, being in one of these. How strange and how privileged people had been before the Blight. Once they arrived, they were instructed by their driver to fan out--keep an eye out for all of those who looked out of place, and compare them to the guest lists they had been provided. Throughout his entire spiel, Kieran tried not to pick at the tie that threatened to choke him. For someone who wanted to get to subsection A, it certainly hadn’t been pleasing for him thus far. Entering the party, the opulence only seemed to continue. Kieran made for the bar and immediately got himself a simple drink. He downed it quickly to cool his nerves as he eyed the place up and down. Trying not to focus too heavily on the murals and marble that adorned the mansion, his eyes wandered for Aura. As he looked, he thought through his plan: scope out the basement and identify the way out. Ensure Loor never figured out he had been duped. Ensure the Cause received either the laptop or something very valuable and don’t expect Aura of any wrongdoing. Ensure Apex felt like Kieran had gained valuable information on the Cause. And above all, protect Aura. It was a tall order, and everything needed to go write. And almost as an affront to that immediate thought, he felt a cold drink pour down his front. He looked down to see Aura--already wiping at his shirt, looking up and recognizing him. She was beautiful. He immediately felt bad that his first thought had been of her beauty, but it truly was the first thing that had crossed his mind. Her black dress and plum eyes shone a different side of Aura than the one that had kidnapped him just two days prior. But based on her frantic cleaning, it was clear that it was still Aura after all. He couldn’t help but smile at her as she tried fixing his shirt. “You look beautiful,” he said in response to her, already blushing at his bluntness. “You cleaned up better than I did.” He quickly continued on, speaking in a hushed tone after ensuring no one was nearby: “Any eyes on Loor?” He wanted to blurt out much more of his plan--of the basement, the hatch, and the means to get her out of there, but first thing was first. Loor, and that damned laptop.