As the two of them trekked down the sewers, guided by Dekar’s memory of the layout, Kyle wondered if Raktor had a similar layout. Weird, I don’t recall hearing anything about catacombs, only sewers. But most people stay in the alleyways or in concentrated slums.
“So, who were the people attacking us? Why did they want to kill you?” Kyle asked as they trudged along, avoiding the pools of sludge and rotten carcasses of unidentifiable creatures.
“The industrialists. They’ve been lobbying for the government to release restrictions on the sale and production of weapons for the military.” Dekar responded.
“I was under the impression that every citizen of Versia could hold a weapon – even an arctech rifle.”
“There are still limitations on how much weaponry a single citizen can hold. They can’t buy cannons or artillery, for example.”
Kyle pondered for a while, coming to a conclusion. “So the industrialists want full privatisation of the weapons industry.”
“Leeches is what they are – no doubt they want to monopolise the industry as a group, ripping off the government.”
“Are you not also ripping off the military or the taxpayers by having a state monopoly as well?”
Dekar stopped in his tracks, turning around and glaring at Kyle. “You seem to have this impression that every single government official is corrupt and is out to profit for themselves. Well, I’m here to tell you that Versia is not the same as your noble-infested system that you are so proud of!”
“Surprising for someone who took a bribe from Count Leon.”
“I gave it away to charity.”
“You mean you gave it away for safekeeping.”
Dekar fumed as he resumed walking. “Unlike your money-addled brain, I believe in the Versian State! Everything I do is for the people and for the continued existence of the state. Living standards, quality of life, sanitary systems, transportation - I worked for fifteen years to establish all of that. To make a better society than ever before! Something your greedy heart will never understand.”
Kyle was a bit astounded, smiling to himself. It’s been a while since I met a man who had such strong ideals – they never lasted long in the Galactic Era. “So that’s why the capital looked so clean.”
“Exactly! I poured my heart and soul into ensuring the best for the citizens of Tenar, and soon I will be able to do the same for the other cities! These idiotic industrialists have no shame: their wealth and quality of life today is due to the work I have done.”
“Impressive. Yet here you are, powerless.”
“Indeed. I learnt a strict lesson today – peace must be defended with force. Violent force, if necessary. When I get back to the headquarters…”
Kyle didn’t reply, simply nodding along as Dekar continued to rant and espouse how he would quarter the industrialists from head to toe. However, Kyle did not believe the Versia state could achieve true stability. The issue was with how they came to power – it reduces legitimacy as well as makes subsequent coups easier. Once the first coup is successful, every other interest group out there will know that such a method is possible. And if the current government doesn’t have the power to restrain them…
Suddenly, the Minister yelped out loud in fear as he tripped over a corpse. However, upon closer inspection, it was not a corpse, but rather a wasted homeless squatter, with an unshaven beard and long flowing white hair, half-naked with tattered pants.
“Watch where you’re going, twat!” The old squatter groaned, trying to stand up but failing. Kyle was surprised: he was under the impression that Tenar had no homeless people at all after seeing the glamorous capital along with the passionate speech of Dekar.
Dekar quickly bent over to help the old squatter up, apologising profusely. However, as soon as Dekar caught a glimpse of his face, his jaw dropped completely. “Zayin? What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were in Ocra?”
“Huh? Who are you? How do you know my name?” The old squatter was clearly drunk, unable to tell who Dekar was.
“Where are you staying now? I’ll get you back to your house.”
“House? What house? This is my house!” The old squatter brushed off Dekar and pushed him away. “This is the land of the great Zayin! Born and raised in the catacombs of Tenar, and proud of it.”
“Don’t joke with me, Zayin. There are more than enough houses for everyone – the government has made sure of that! Even if you didn’t have a house, there are more than a hundred homeless shelters across the city which can help you.”
“Those rubbish shelters? Got beaten up two times there, and I am not going back. Hell, nobody goes back there. And I don’t know who the fuck you are, but there ain’t a hundred homeless shelters in Tenar; are you joking?”
“I’m not – I’m the Minister. Minister Dekar!”
A sliver of recognition appeared in Zayin’s eyes before rage and anger began to envelop his entire face, his hands shakily grabbing Dekar by the collar. “You! You corrupt ignorant twats! You forsaken the entire cause of the revolution!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’re coming with me, even if it’s the last thing I do in my life. Get over here, you cunt!” Zayin grabbed Dekar and forced him to walk fast and further down the sewer before turning the corner into the catacombs. They walked down a long tunnel before turning to see a large underground hall, the stench even worse than the sewage.
Hundreds of homeless people were cowering here, their makeshift tents and contaminated barrels of water littered along the side of the cavern as dim flickering lanterns served as their only light source. A group of malnourished kids could be seen running around the cavern, laughing and playing while women huddled in groups, fixing clothes and sewing up what seemed to be factory uniforms before tossing them into a pile.
A scrawny naked kid scrambled up to them upon seeing them. “Grandpa Zayin, is my dad back from the factory yet?”
“Fuck off twat, go find some other old chump to bother. And no, he’s not back yet – it isn’t even the end of the work shift.” Zayin shooed him away.
Dekar was stunned at the entire sight; his entire fifteen years of work invalidated. “Impossible – I toured the catacombs last year at this exact spot! It was completely empty!”
“Except every single time before you came, someone came in to force them to clear out. I know EXACTLY who you are, Dekar Aulus.” Zayin suddenly turned to face him, his face and expression clearer than ever. “At first, I thought I was hallucinating, but to finally see you have the balls to come visit your dear old pal.”
“No! They told me you left for Ocra!”
“Why in the fucking world of all places would I move to that shithole!” Zayin roared, grabbing Dekar by the collar. The shout attracted the attention of the others, prompting them to slowly crane their necks over, trying to get a better view.
“Oh my god, is that Minister Dekar?”
“Isn’t he on the run now? Why is he here?”
“We should get him to move away from here – if the military comes back here, they’ll beat us up again!”
Dekar could clearly hear the wave of murmuring, wondering what the hell was happening.
“You and I were both born in the same slums, right here in Tenar. Same district, same factory, same revolution! And you believed I decided to ditch all that and head to Ocra, where there was even more poverty?! You stupid fuck, I should give you a right ol’ punch now if you weren’t the minister.” Zayin raised his fist, glaring at Dekar, who was still astonished.
Kyle interrupted them, placing a hand on Zayin’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt your joyous reunion, but I have a contract to sign with our dear minister here. I’m sure he will fix all of this as soon as he gets back to the government headquarters.”
“Like I’ll ever trust anyone in the government ever again. Maybe Versia should return to anarchy!” Zayin spat through rotten teeth.
“Please, Zayin, I’m sorry for all of this! I can fix this, I swear!” Dekar pleaded.
“A bit too late for that, isn’t it? Fifteen years of this shit!”
Kyle grabbed Zayin and forced him apart, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before Dekar could turn around to scold Kyle, Kyle grabbed him by the armpit and dragged him back out to the main sewers. “Let go of me!” Dekar struggled, but he was unable to fight off Kyle’s tight grip.
Kyle tossed him to the side, slamming him to the wall. “I don’t have time for this nonsense – Dekar, you are going to get us to the surface. There’s no point trying to apologise to him: fix it with your actions. Are we clear?”
“…you’re right.” Dekar finally calmed down, focusing on what he needed to do.
“Good. Now let’s move – because I’m afraid of what I heard just now.”
“About me being on the run?”
Kyle nodded, the two of them picking up the pace. “Here’s the ladder that goes right into an alleyway next to the main street.”
They clambered up the ladder quickly, with Dekar quickly lifting the heavy metal lid and sliding it to the side before reaching back to the surface.
However, instead of the usual clamour and din of the citizens laughing or lining up for bakeries, the streets were filled with protestors instead, holding signs and loudhailers, chanting out loud.
“What in the world?” Dekar exclaimed.
“Never mind that – how do we get you into the headquarters?”
“This way.” Dekar led him down a series of alleyways as a loudhailer boomed loud enough for the two of them to hear.
[Minister Dekar is a traitor to the state of Versia! He has been caught accepting bribes from the Yual Dominion, laundering them through a charity organisation his accomplices own!]
“Down with the Minister!”
“DOWN WITH THE MINISTER!”
“Are you sure we can get back into the headquarters?” Kyle asked.
“We must get back in – otherwise, this accusation will go out of control!”
They weaved their way through the myriad of alleyways, running past chefs who were throwing out food waste into the sewers, shocking them. “Hey, wasn’t that Minister Dekar?! He’s here!”
“Shit, run faster!” Kyle urged.
Dekar led them towards an open square, which was situated right outside the grand steps of the government palace that used to be owned by the former Count. Its grand pillars towered over the crowd of protestors, along with what seemed to be a wooden stage being hauled forward. There was a single prisoner on it bound to a pole while a government official stood on top of it.
Dekar’s eyes widened as he saw who was being tied up on the wooden stage, nearly shouting out loud before Kyle quickly grabbed his mouth and silenced him.
“For a former revolutionary, it seems your time in the government has made you forget the basics of concealment.” Kyle made sure they hid in the alleyway, preventing them from being directly spotted by any of the protestors. Walking out now into the open square would be suicide.
The government official held a loudhailer as he looked right at a lightcapturer. [Here is James Gram, owner of the charity organisation who had accepted more than fifty million in rakels from Minister Dekar. Let him speak for himself.]
The prisoner grunted as his head was lifted for all to see, his cheeks swollen purple from the numerous beatings. “My… my name is James Gram… please don’t hurt my family…”
[The audacity of this man to worry about his family when fifty million rakels that should have been used for the improvement of Versia has been monopolised by him! Only fifteen years have passed since the revolution, yet the ugly remnants of the noble class rear its head once again.]
“N-no! I’m a revolutionary, one of the original! Ask Dekar, ask Johan! They can vouch for me!”
[Listen! An admission that even the current President is part of this corrupt affair!]
Dekar was frantic, quickly thinking of all the possibilities. “We need to find President Johan and get him to end all of this!”. However, Kyle was not as optimistic, already dreading what was about to happen.
[The people of this country deserve that money, James! And yet you squandered all of it away!] The government official yelled out before leaning over to James, whispering into his ear. “If you do not confess now, your family might not be in very good hands…”
James’ eyes widened, his face clearly stuck in a dilemma. After a moment’s pause, he nodded vigorously “I… I… Yes. I squandered the money!” He yelled out. “I did it! Please don’t hurt my family!”
[Well, citizens of Versia. What do we do with greedy folk who squander away the nation's wealth?]
“BEHEAD HIM!” The crowd roared back angrily.
Kyle glanced at the stunned Dekar, sighing as James’ bloodied head rolled off the stage to thunderous fanfare, cheering and shouting. “Looks like we’re not getting into the government’s headquarters anytime soon.”
As the two of them trekked down the sewers, guided by Dekar’s memory of the layout, Kyle wondered if Raktor had a similar layout. Weird, I don’t recall hearing anything about catacombs, only sewers. But most people stay in the alleyways or in concentrated slums.
“So, who were the people attacking us? Why did they want to kill you?” Kyle asked as they trudged along, avoiding the pools of sludge and rotten carcasses of unidentifiable creatures.
“The industrialists. They’ve been lobbying for the government to release restrictions on the sale and production of weapons for the military.” Dekar responded.
“I was under the impression that every citizen of Versia could hold a weapon – even an arctech rifle.”
“There are still limitations on how much weaponry a single citizen can hold. They can’t buy cannons or artillery, for example.”
Kyle pondered for a while, coming to a conclusion. “So the industrialists want full privatisation of the weapons industry.”
“Leeches is what they are – no doubt they want to monopolise the industry as a group, ripping off the government.”
“Are you not also ripping off the military or the taxpayers by having a state monopoly as well?”
Dekar stopped in his tracks, turning around and glaring at Kyle. “You seem to have this impression that every single government official is corrupt and is out to profit for themselves. Well, I’m here to tell you that Versia is not the same as your noble-infested system that you are so proud of!”
“Surprising for someone who took a bribe from Count Leon.”
“I gave it away to charity.”
“You mean you gave it away for safekeeping.”
Dekar fumed as he resumed walking. “Unlike your money-addled brain, I believe in the Versian State! Everything I do is for the people and for the continued existence of the state. Living standards, quality of life, sanitary systems, transportation - I worked for fifteen years to establish all of that. To make a better society than ever before! Something your greedy heart will never understand.”
Kyle was a bit astounded, smiling to himself. It’s been a while since I met a man who had such strong ideals – they never lasted long in the Galactic Era. “So that’s why the capital looked so clean.”
“Exactly! I poured my heart and soul into ensuring the best for the citizens of Tenar, and soon I will be able to do the same for the other cities! These idiotic industrialists have no shame: their wealth and quality of life today is due to the work I have done.”
“Impressive. Yet here you are, powerless.”
“Indeed. I learnt a strict lesson today – peace must be defended with force. Violent force, if necessary. When I get back to the headquarters…”
Kyle didn’t reply, simply nodding along as Dekar continued to rant and espouse how he would quarter the industrialists from head to toe. However, Kyle did not believe the Versia state could achieve true stability. The issue was with how they came to power – it reduces legitimacy as well as makes subsequent coups easier. Once the first coup is successful, every other interest group out there will know that such a method is possible. And if the current government doesn’t have the power to restrain them…
Suddenly, the Minister yelped out loud in fear as he tripped over a corpse. However, upon closer inspection, it was not a corpse, but rather a wasted homeless squatter, with an unshaven beard and long flowing white hair, half-naked with tattered pants.
“Watch where you’re going, twat!” The old squatter groaned, trying to stand up but failing. Kyle was surprised: he was under the impression that Tenar had no homeless people at all after seeing the glamorous capital along with the passionate speech of Dekar.
Dekar quickly bent over to help the old squatter up, apologising profusely. However, as soon as Dekar caught a glimpse of his face, his jaw dropped completely. “Zayin? What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were in Ocra?”
“Huh? Who are you? How do you know my name?” The old squatter was clearly drunk, unable to tell who Dekar was.
“Where are you staying now? I’ll get you back to your house.”
“House? What house? This is my house!” The old squatter brushed off Dekar and pushed him away. “This is the land of the great Zayin! Born and raised in the catacombs of Tenar, and proud of it.”
“Don’t joke with me, Zayin. There are more than enough houses for everyone – the government has made sure of that! Even if you didn’t have a house, there are more than a hundred homeless shelters across the city which can help you.”
“Those rubbish shelters? Got beaten up two times there, and I am not going back. Hell, nobody goes back there. And I don’t know who the fuck you are, but there ain’t a hundred homeless shelters in Tenar; are you joking?”
“I’m not – I’m the Minister. Minister Dekar!”
A sliver of recognition appeared in Zayin’s eyes before rage and anger began to envelop his entire face, his hands shakily grabbing Dekar by the collar. “You! You corrupt ignorant twats! You forsaken the entire cause of the revolution!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’re coming with me, even if it’s the last thing I do in my life. Get over here, you cunt!” Zayin grabbed Dekar and forced him to walk fast and further down the sewer before turning the corner into the catacombs. They walked down a long tunnel before turning to see a large underground hall, the stench even worse than the sewage.
Hundreds of homeless people were cowering here, their makeshift tents and contaminated barrels of water littered along the side of the cavern as dim flickering lanterns served as their only light source. A group of malnourished kids could be seen running around the cavern, laughing and playing while women huddled in groups, fixing clothes and sewing up what seemed to be factory uniforms before tossing them into a pile.
A scrawny naked kid scrambled up to them upon seeing them. “Grandpa Zayin, is my dad back from the factory yet?”
“Fuck off twat, go find some other old chump to bother. And no, he’s not back yet – it isn’t even the end of the work shift.” Zayin shooed him away.
Dekar was stunned at the entire sight; his entire fifteen years of work invalidated. “Impossible – I toured the catacombs last year at this exact spot! It was completely empty!”
“Except every single time before you came, someone came in to force them to clear out. I know EXACTLY who you are, Dekar Aulus.” Zayin suddenly turned to face him, his face and expression clearer than ever. “At first, I thought I was hallucinating, but to finally see you have the balls to come visit your dear old pal.”
“No! They told me you left for Ocra!”
“Why in the fucking world of all places would I move to that shithole!” Zayin roared, grabbing Dekar by the collar. The shout attracted the attention of the others, prompting them to slowly crane their necks over, trying to get a better view.
“Oh my god, is that Minister Dekar?”
“Isn’t he on the run now? Why is he here?”
“We should get him to move away from here – if the military comes back here, they’ll beat us up again!”
Dekar could clearly hear the wave of murmuring, wondering what the hell was happening.
“You and I were both born in the same slums, right here in Tenar. Same district, same factory, same revolution! And you believed I decided to ditch all that and head to Ocra, where there was even more poverty?! You stupid fuck, I should give you a right ol’ punch now if you weren’t the minister.” Zayin raised his fist, glaring at Dekar, who was still astonished.
Kyle interrupted them, placing a hand on Zayin’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt your joyous reunion, but I have a contract to sign with our dear minister here. I’m sure he will fix all of this as soon as he gets back to the government headquarters.”
“Like I’ll ever trust anyone in the government ever again. Maybe Versia should return to anarchy!” Zayin spat through rotten teeth.
“Please, Zayin, I’m sorry for all of this! I can fix this, I swear!” Dekar pleaded.
“A bit too late for that, isn’t it? Fifteen years of this shit!”
Kyle grabbed Zayin and forced him apart, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before Dekar could turn around to scold Kyle, Kyle grabbed him by the armpit and dragged him back out to the main sewers. “Let go of me!” Dekar struggled, but he was unable to fight off Kyle’s tight grip.
Kyle tossed him to the side, slamming him to the wall. “I don’t have time for this nonsense – Dekar, you are going to get us to the surface. There’s no point trying to apologise to him: fix it with your actions. Are we clear?”
“…you’re right.” Dekar finally calmed down, focusing on what he needed to do.
“Good. Now let’s move – because I’m afraid of what I heard just now.”
“About me being on the run?”
Kyle nodded, the two of them picking up the pace. “Here’s the ladder that goes right into an alleyway next to the main street.”
They clambered up the ladder quickly, with Dekar quickly lifting the heavy metal lid and sliding it to the side before reaching back to the surface.
However, instead of the usual clamour and din of the citizens laughing or lining up for bakeries, the streets were filled with protestors instead, holding signs and loudhailers, chanting out loud.
“What in the world?” Dekar exclaimed.
“Never mind that – how do we get you into the headquarters?”
“This way.” Dekar led him down a series of alleyways as a loudhailer boomed loud enough for the two of them to hear.
[Minister Dekar is a traitor to the state of Versia! He has been caught accepting bribes from the Yual Dominion, laundering them through a charity organisation his accomplices own!]
“Down with the Minister!”
“DOWN WITH THE MINISTER!”
“Are you sure we can get back into the headquarters?” Kyle asked.
“We must get back in – otherwise, this accusation will go out of control!”
They weaved their way through the myriad of alleyways, running past chefs who were throwing out food waste into the sewers, shocking them. “Hey, wasn’t that Minister Dekar?! He’s here!”
“Shit, run faster!” Kyle urged.
Dekar led them towards an open square, which was situated right outside the grand steps of the government palace that used to be owned by the former Count. Its grand pillars towered over the crowd of protestors, along with what seemed to be a wooden stage being hauled forward. There was a single prisoner on it bound to a pole while a government official stood on top of it.
Dekar’s eyes widened as he saw who was being tied up on the wooden stage, nearly shouting out loud before Kyle quickly grabbed his mouth and silenced him.
“For a former revolutionary, it seems your time in the government has made you forget the basics of concealment.” Kyle made sure they hid in the alleyway, preventing them from being directly spotted by any of the protestors. Walking out now into the open square would be suicide.
The government official held a loudhailer as he looked right at a lightcapturer. [Here is James Gram, owner of the charity organisation who had accepted more than fifty million in rakels from Minister Dekar. Let him speak for himself.]
The prisoner grunted as his head was lifted for all to see, his cheeks swollen purple from the numerous beatings. “My… my name is James Gram… please don’t hurt my family…”
[The audacity of this man to worry about his family when fifty million rakels that should have been used for the improvement of Versia has been monopolised by him! Only fifteen years have passed since the revolution, yet the ugly remnants of the noble class rear its head once again.]
“N-no! I’m a revolutionary, one of the original! Ask Dekar, ask Johan! They can vouch for me!”
[Listen! An admission that even the current President is part of this corrupt affair!]
Dekar was frantic, quickly thinking of all the possibilities. “We need to find President Johan and get him to end all of this!”. However, Kyle was not as optimistic, already dreading what was about to happen.
[The people of this country deserve that money, James! And yet you squandered all of it away!] The government official yelled out before leaning over to James, whispering into his ear. “If you do not confess now, your family might not be in very good hands…”
James’ eyes widened, his face clearly stuck in a dilemma. After a moment’s pause, he nodded vigorously “I… I… Yes. I squandered the money!” He yelled out. “I did it! Please don’t hurt my family!”
[Well, citizens of Versia. What do we do with greedy folk who squander away the nation's wealth?]
“BEHEAD HIM!” The crowd roared back angrily.
Kyle glanced at the stunned Dekar, sighing as James’ bloodied head rolled off the stage to thunderous fanfare, cheering and shouting. “Looks like we’re not getting into the government’s headquarters anytime soon.”
