Tunnels 05 - Spiral

heaped in front of houses, and even people’s personal belongings scattered in the gutters. There were signs of neglect and turmoil everywhere she turned.
    Finally Elliott came to the terraced house in which she’d grown up. This was the house she’d left early one morning when she ran away to the Deeps, leaving behind all she knew.
    As a child she’d learned to live with the lie that her aunt was her mother, but the risk of being outed as a Drain Baby grew as she grew. And although choosing to go to the Deeps was tantamount to committing suicide, the alternative would have been worse. Not only would Elliott and her real mother have immediately been put to death by the Styx for the illicit liaison, the rest of the family would most likely have been lynched for their part in the cover-up.
    And whispers had already begun to circulate in the neighborhood about Elliott’s dark eyes and Styx-thin physique, with one man attempting to extort money from her aunt in return for his silence. Elliott decided that she had to disappear from the Colony, thus removing any grounds for blackmail or discovery.
    Walking slowly up the path, Elliott’s gaze strayed over the lawns of black lichen to either side where she’d played as a child. From the state they were in, it was evident that they hadn’t been tended to for some time. But unlike many others in the street, the house itself looked lived in. Elliott was encouraged by that.
    She reached out and pushed on the front door. It wasn’t locked, and swung open a few inches.
    “Hello,” she called.
    For a moment she was distracted by a huge roar from the crowd elsewhere in the city.
    “Hello,” Elliott repeated, although she sensed that the house was empty. She raised her foot to step over the threshold, but then stopped herself. Inside would probably be signs to confirm her mother still lived there. But Elliott knew that her reappearance and the way she looked now would just reignite the old suspicions, and her mother’s secret would become known. There was little doubt in Elliott’s mind that the age-old prejudices about Styx-Colonist interrelationships would persist.
    And part of her was also reluctant to find out about her mother. The mission to the center of the Earth was fraught with danger, and Elliott was only too aware she might not return from it with her life. Perhaps it was better to embark on it with the belief that her mother was still alive and well.
    “I’ll come back another day,” Elliott said out loud, pulling the door shut. Tucking her hand inside her jacket, she took out the bottle of perfume Mrs. Burrows had given her and placed it carefully on the doorstep. “That’s for you, Mother,” she whispered, then turned from the house.

“THIS IS WHAT I wanted you to see,” the First Officer said to Drake, Will, and Mrs. Burrows. Drake was keen to leave the Colony and continue their journey, but he also knew it was important to help the First Officer in any way he could now that the city had declared its independence.
    And, as they turned the corner, there was the Styx Citadel.
    With its stark facade of roughly hewn granite, it was built into the cavern wall itself, extending all the way up to the canopy high above, where it disappeared into the ever-present clouds that swirled and lapped there. And never had any Colonist been known to set foot inside the forbidding building.
    “This is the closest I’ve been to it,” Will whispered, as the black crystal windows marking the upper levels of the Citadel stared down on him like pitiless Styx eyes.
    The First Officer stopped at the open gate in the iron railings, and a large man holding a pickax handle came out from the watchman’s cabin to meet them. “This is Joseph,” the First Officer said. “He and another citizen have been guarding the compound around the clock, in case the White Necks decide to come back.”
    Drake nodded at Joseph, who was deep-chested and stocky, typical of the “pure stock,” as they were known — descendants of the original army of laborers who had helped Martineau to build the subterranean city some three hundred years ago, and then populate it. Joseph was staring fixedly at Will, which the boy began to find rather unsettling.
    “Very wise,” Drake said. He indicated the man’s pickax handle. “But you’re going to need more firepower than that.” For a moment he considered the Garrison, a squat, two-story building beside the Citadel, letting his gaze linger