 The hum of the machinery and pipes around them was dull and constant. Malcolm's little sister curled up on the floor with a blanket. Small, silly-looking green men covered it like polka dots. The only light came from a cracked blue computer screen that gleamed in Malcolm's hands. Malcolm noted today's air quality was at 39% and cursed to himself. The patrols wouldn't be coming down this particular corridor for a few more hours, but running was going to be hard today. His sister, mewed in her sleep and rolled over. Malcolm stopped, raised his eyebrows, made sure she wasn't awake, and kept scrolling. Malcolm had been waiting for an opportunity like this since right after his sister was born. It was on the news then, too. A trade ship had landed. Now supplies meant a lot, but the important part was it meant they had a way out of there if they could play their cards right. Malcolm tried to picture his mother's face then. They dreamed about leaving together. He looked down at his sister again. Maybe… maybe she'd look like that? Short blonde hair like the both of them? An oval face that came down to a point at the chin? Large, wide-set eyes? He tried to place it, but he couldn't conjure anything he recognized. Somewhere in the intervening years, his mother had just become a feeling of warmth and love. Which was weird, because even when she was around, she seemed annoyed that he existed at all. The machinery around him knocked hard as the morning cycle started. His sister snorted and sat up on the blanket. Is it morning? She said. Uh, yeah. His sister stood up and smacked her lips. There any water left? Malcolm rolled his eyes. Yeah. He tossed her a half-filled plastic bottle. Glenn detrained what was left in a few gulps, and then put the lid back on the bottle. Well, if you'd listened to the director, you'd know we're in a shortage. Guys at the top are having a shortage. Malcolm mumbled, to no one in particular. Oh my god. Glenn chucked the empty bottle at Malcolm. Just join the serps already. Malcolm left. I can. I have to keep you from joining the empties. Glenn pointed a finger at Malcolm. Stop right there. Do you have clearance to be in this area? Malcolm pointed his finger back. Yeah, it's called being alive. I'm a free person. The two of them paused, looked at their finger guns, and laughed. Glenn started to gather up their only blanket, and they both went to find breakfast. The crossroads was full of all kinds of people, lights, and sounds. Men and women hawk their wares from small booths along the brown sidewalk. Passers-by avoided the gold-tinted street that slit the area twice, and from time to time, a shining vehicle would roll through almost too quick to see. The flashing lights above them pulsed orange and green. Each of them displayed advertisements for various products that neither of them could afford. And every once in a while, one of the bundles of rags lining the sidewalk shifted. A withered hand would extend and then retract as the siblings passed them by. Black-clad guards patrolled the streets beneath reflective face plates. Citizens gave the guards a wide berth, and the few people who walked near them got a light wrap from a baton. Just a reflexive tap on the nearest body part before they both continued on their way. Glinda was their point man for this particular operation, but both of them avoided the empty batons with well-practiced grace. One of the vendors, a large, barrel-chested man with a long beard, was selling meats and fruits in small, wrapped bundles. He caught Glinda's eye from across the way and perked up. He waved off the withered skeleton of a man who was currently staring at the wares. The skeleton man wandered away, revealing a sign attached the side of the stand that said Little Liam's. Glinda flashed her smile at Liam and walked over. Malcolm kept a respectful distance as he stalked around the stand. Glinda broke eye contact at the last second and gave a little, hey, Liam leveled his eyes. Glinn spent a little while. Yeah, sorry, been busy with school. The vendor snorted for a minute before stomping himself. Sorry, school though, really? Yes, she said as her eyes widened. Liam looked Glinda up and down with a practiced eye. Seems like a waste, but all right. Well, you're used to selling meats. Liam grabbed his heart in faux outrage before settling back and leaning on the counter. You buying? Glinda leaned onto the counter as well, getting face to face with the man. Come on, Liam. Liam's twinkling eyes went cold. Not today. There's a shortage. You runners probably don't get the news down in the tunnels. Glinda put her hand on the side of Liam's face. You don't have a little something for me just for the day? Liam stood up straight and moved away. A comeback after I close. We'll see what we can do. Glinda suppressed a snarl. And then she saw her brother moving away from the back of the stand and shrugged. Sure, hun. Same time as always. Liam nodded and grinned until one of the skeleton men bumped into the side of the wooden building and caught Liam's attention. Just to the left of where Liam looked was Malcolm carrying several bags of food. Liam's eyes went wide and then he looked back into his stall and saw the back door was open. A few other gaunt figures were already helping themselves to part of his stock. Thieves, he bellowed, pointing at both Glinda and Malcolm. The two of them ran into the crowd as the faceless guards chased after them. They'd settled into a corridor near the spaceport, completely out of breath. The underground tunnels that Chris cost the station ran under the docking base. Usually there was no one out here, docking ships being rare like they were. Today though, the entire port was crawling with empties and important-looking people. Glen and Mal observed the quiet corner near their maintenance shaft from behind a ventilation grate. The hanker was large enough to accommodate the massive ship that sat in it, but not much else. The ship was flat on the bottom and rounded on the top with a series of windows along the sides. The thing was dull white with some lettering on the side they couldn't quite make out from this angle, and small pods covered the underside. None of the hundreds of people between them and the boarding area were moving things off the ship though. The two siblings melted back into the shadows of the maintenance corridor, an empty patrol pass as they made their way towards the core of the city again. But this is the last one, right? Malcolm whispered, sounding unsure. They'd stopped to avoid another patrol. Glen smiled. Mal knew the tunnels and patrol routes like the back of his hand, but he wanted her to feel included, and she ignored the question. We don't have enough time to map out the patrols and the hanker. They're all new. We won't have to. We'll grab some supplies after they get offloaded, sell them ourselves, and maybe end up living beneath the spire instead of the crossroads. Big dreams. Malcolm laughed. You gotta dream big if you're gonna live big. You wanna keep running around down here like rats? Glen depressed her lips, shook her head, and then said, they weren't offloading any cargo. They've been here for three days and they haven't unloaded anything. Malcolm cocked his head to the side. That was information he'd already absorbed, but it still didn't make any sense, so he just ignored it. It was a trade ship. They must have offloaded already, or maybe they were waiting for something. Malcolm broke his concentration, and said, I think we gotta talk to Bobby. She'll know what to do. The siblings backed into the shadows and continued towards the core of the city, and behind them, a small flying machine tracked their movements. The air was thick and stifling as close to the core of the city, especially underground. The siblings burst out into the Warrens with only a little bit of fanfare. The Warrens were a massive underground complex built into the underlying mechanical architecture of the city. It was one of the few places down here that didn't get regular patrols. Maybe 10 or 20,000 vagrants lived down here in and around the moving machinery. A pale, disheveled family, passed by the narrow entrance corridor as the two of them came out. The father looked up, but the mother and two children didn't bother. Like everyone else making a life down here, their skin had a sickly green pallor. Without knowing how well they'd been fed, those kids could be anywhere between five and 12 at that size. Either way, the family kept moving, holding to a well-practiced habit of avoiding unnecessary trouble. It was rare, actually, to see a whole family together like that. Kids with living parents were few and far between, not to mention how many had ended up in the spire's containment cells. The siblings' father had been one of those, stealing food like them, but not as fast and not as smart. One day, he never came back, and they had to fend for themselves. Their mother took it badly, and then, when she got sick, the two of them moved further into the warrens, passing dozens of alcoves filled with people and purpose. Most of the people down here had lived their entire lives, just beneath the gold streets or the crossroads, just a few meters away from, well, more pain and misery, actually. Being of both worlds themselves, the siblings knew that the people below always thought those above had it better, which gave Malcolm pause. Maybe the people living in the spire were starving like they were. That line of thought stopped once they reached their destination. The first temptation, a CD bar at the center of the warrens, glowed bright green and red in this otherwise dark place. The signs were likely scavenged from above, which meant that those inside had some means, at least. The first temptation was, so they'd been told, the first permanent building in the warrens, the owner, Bobby Johnson, built it for the runners and scavengers that had before, made their homes in the far flung and forgotten parts of the undercity. Runners, like Glen and Mal, would never really settle down, but having a place to stay from time to time was convenient. The scabs, on the other hand, they made this place a home, and the empties, try though they might, couldn't get them out. The rumor was, when it was first built, the empties came down in full force to clean the undercity once and for all, and none of them ever made it back. The bar stood as a monument of sorts to that fight, but no one still alive remembered it happening. There had to be some reason, though, that the empties only came down here to chase specific fugitives. Malcolm opened the door, under the glowing green and red sign depicting a snake, wrapped around an apple, and the two of them went inside. Neither of the siblings recognized the song playing on the speakers, they did notice the click at the door behind them locked. The bar was furnished with a collection of metal chairs and tables, carved from the undercity itself. A small collection of small Christmas lights lined the ceiling in regular intervals, giving off a multicolored glow that illuminated the entire room. The tables were empty, except for one. Bobby Johnson, the bar's owner, sat there, nursing and drank. Bobby Johnson was a dark-skinned woman with braided hair parted down the middle. Her eyes were piercing with red irises flecked with gold. She glanced up at the siblings as they entered, and made a sweeping motion with her hand at two empty chairs in front of her. Take a seat, children. Mal and Glenn knew better than to argue with Bobby. The woman had an ethereal quality about her that unsettled them both, and her reputation was one of a dangerous and unpredictable enemy. And they needed her to be their friend right now. They both sat down. Glinda opened her mouth before Bobby interrupted her. He doesn't know, does he? No, Glinda said, lowering her head. Mal looked puzzled. I don't know what. Bobby smiled. The spire is being evacuated. Mal's eyes went wide, and he looked at Glinda. What? Glinda put a hand up. They aren't offloading anything. The patrols have just been getting sloppier and sloppier over the last few days. They're under manned. We stole food, and they barely bothered to chase us. Mal's shoulders slumped. Why? Bobby's eyes lit up. Ah, I can get that one. This place is dying. The supplies are overstretched. The air is dirty, and we lose more and more water every year. In 10 years, everyone and everything here will be dead. She paused for a moment, considering the siblings. You want to get out of here, right? Malcolm nodded first, followed by Glinda. The ship is a bad choice. The foundation doesn't play around, and even if you managed to stow away, it wouldn't matter. In the best-case scenario, you'd be prisoners. Worse, they'd jettison you into space. Glinda spoke up. If we're going to die in 10 years anyway, what's the harm in trying? Bobby shook her head. You two aren't going to die here. You're going to save the world. Bobby paused and broke into a large smile. But first, you're going to save others. The siblings looked at Bobby with a similar confused expression. And Malcolm broke the silence. Look, all we need are weapons, and we'll fight our way onto the ship. If you send out word, the rest of the Serps will try to get on board, too. They can't stop all of us. Bobby smirked. They can, and they will. Besides, great behemoths of metal with ancient engines are all well and good. But there are other ways. Just then, a harsh rapping sounded on the door to the bar. The siblings jumped a bit in their seats. Bobby stood up and pulled a gun from a holster under her arm. She handed it to Glinda and pointed behind the bar. Go. There's a door back there that leads to a hallway. Keep running until you reach the end. You'll know when you're there. The rapping on the door stopped. A loud thud followed. The two siblings looked at each other and ran behind the bar. Bobby pulled two more guns from her hips, and leveled them at the door as it began to cave inwards. Another thud, and it smashed inward, hanging off the lower hinge as the other hinge flew across the floor. Bobby opened fire immediately as the faceless guards and flying machines began to pour through. Malcolm and Glinda were in the back room when they heard the gunfire begin. They ran. The hallway was dark with a faint gold glow at the end. They continued until they passed through, and suddenly the oppressive darkness gave way to blinding light. Their eyes took time to adjust to the new environment. Their lungs, though, immediately noticed the difference. It was like breathing for the first time, like they'd been drowning all their lives and just never noticed. And as their eyes adjusted to the landscape, they understood something important. This place was different from anything they'd ever seen before. A vast green meadow stretched out before them in all directions. Hills, spotted with clumps of trees, broke up the flat plain on occasion. Brilliant flowers of all colors covered the ground, and Malcolm looked up at the sky to see nothing but blue at first, with a shining bright orb above them. Then near the horizon, he spotted two moons, one a dark brown and the other, about half as large, a pale gray. A large flying creature of some kind passed overhead, casting a shadow on them as it went on its way. The siblings looked at each other with a mixture of wonder and horror. Then a man's head appeared about four feet from the ground, out of a similar gold-colored portal to the one they'd entered. The head sized them up and grinned. Now come on, we got work to do. Oh, what? Malcolm sputtered. The head was now accompanied by a disembodied hand that motioned them over. I don't have a whole day. Bobby said you'd have an MTF on your tail. Glinda, not for the last time or first time that day, looked confused. MTF? The empties. Look, I gotta close both the ways with or without you, so you come to the library and nod. Glinda and Malcolm looked at each other and nodded. And then they followed the floating head away from paradise. Took a little bit of a break, as you can tell, from the Versus series this week. I wrote this tail a few days back and wanted to read it for the channel. Didn't think it would hurt. I do want to get more suggestions in the comments down below of things you'd like to see in the Versus series. Also, you know, let me know what you think of the tail. Two weeks from now, we'll be back to the Versus series, so don't worry about that. In the meantime, if you liked this video, scroll down and hit the subscribe button. I said this in the last video, but YouTube has started telling me that a lot of the people that watch my videos don't actually subscribe to the channel. They just wait for it to show up in their recommended tab. So please hit the subscribe button and then hit the notification bell next to that. So you'll always be notified when a new video comes out. And if you'd really like to support this channel, please head on over to Patreon.com forward slash D Cimmerian. You can join Mr. Crown and Lilla Diaz, who both pledged $1 each. And help support this channel and make sure I can keep making this content for you all the time. It's nice to know that I'm not alone out here, and I'll see you again on Tuesday.