What follows is a story of Endless City; a never-ending urban sprawl of both the strange and familiar. It is a mixed place of unnatural phenomena and beat up bus stops, alien cultures and convenience stores, so large and old its residents have forgo...
Prismatic Plaza's Twenty-Seventh stop is sunk into the ground but meets with the rest of the city floor by virtue of flights of concrete stairs in each direction, giving it the impression of an inverted stepped pyramid. I hurried out of the subway car and tried to lose myself in the crowd of commuters getting on and off, seeking out the cart of my favorite pretzel vendor. Herb usually haunted the mid steps in the north east corner, the direction of my apartment complex's mega tower. Spotting him, I quickly ducked behind the cart and beside the hairy old vendor himself. The codger gave me a cocked eyebrow. Crouched down as I was to his right, I put on my best apologetic grin.
"Hey Herb, how's business?"
"Oh, you know, same old. What's with the cloak and dagger stuff, Fitz?"
"Act natural. Do you see two big guys in suits nearby?"
Herb lazily surveyed the stop. He was good at acting disinterested. Maybe he simply was. After a moment he snorted.
"Yeah, I see 'em. Two big galoots in grey I ain't ever seen before. They're lurking around back near the benches, trying to be inconspicuous. Trying and failing, that is."
I grimaced. "I'm not sure what they want, but I'd rather not find out."
Herb gave a dusty laugh. "I always knew you were a smart kid. Whatever it is, they don't look like they're up to any good. Need any help?"
"Not sure yet. At the moment I'm just trying to get back to my place in one piece."
Herb nodded. "I'll let you know when they aren't looking. You might be able to make it to the top of the steps without them seeing you, if you're lucky. Don't check behind you once you go, it'll just waste time. If they see you and start following you'll hear me holler about today's special."
"Smart. Thanks Herb. I'll make sure to get a deluxe pretzel tomorrow on my way to work."
"You'd better," he chuckled softly. "And with all the fixings." After a moment he briskly said. "They're turned about. Go, now."
I stood back up and briskly trotted up the northeast stairs. Herb is good people, but asking him for anything beyond what he'd already done wouldn't be fair. There was nothing a middle aged pretzel vendor could do for me now, no matter how stalwart. I forced myself not to run too quickly up the steps, worried that the sudden movement would draw attention. I neared the top of the flight and dared to hope I'd lost them when I heard Herb's vendor-call about the virtues of the aforementioned deluxe pretzel. I'd been spotted.
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I broke into a run after clearing the stairs, not waiting to dash across a busy four way stop and taking a hard turn across a bridge that spanned a trash-strewn drainage canal. My mind whirring and tumbling, I picked my way through the various obstacles of the city without thinking. The placement of banged up newspaper vending machines, faulty lights, and guard rails that ran along the high rise offices and sidewalks felt as familiar to me as the arrangement of the teeth in my mouth. I walked home this way everyday, after all.
