The Underside

Shallows 

I 

A Miserable Street 

2080  

Mouse pulled her hood tightly around her head in hopes of avoiding the smell.  Rain still soaked through the thin material.  Here the rain didn’t bring the same earthy scent, only the stench of rotting fish.  Beneath The City was harsh and colorless.  It had taken years to get used to, barely scraping by most days.  It was always wet; with smog too thick to allow any sunlight or warmth in.  Even if it wasn’t for the polluted air, the platforms and towering skyscrapers above would probably block out any sunlight anyway.   

There were few who were cast down like her.  They were always easy to spot, begging and bargaining, but most were born and raised in the Shallows.  If they were dropped here by The City, well, most never lived to tell the tale.  Mouse had found that out the hard way, one of the first lessons learned in her new life below the shadows of glittering skyscrapers.  

Mouse ducked under the overhang of an abandoned storefront, nudging past the sick and decaying elderly crowding the door inside.  She avoided eye contact as she made her way through the neglected building.  Going up exactly sixty-two stairs before coming to a small attic.  She ducked under the sagging roof and sank down into an old armchair sitting alone in the empty room.  The springs dug into her hipbones, signaling a chair sat in many times too much.     

“Home sweet home.”  Mouse sighed. 

Miss Anya Smith’s Office 

2073 

“Miss, I hate to be the one to inform you of this but,” an assistant stood anxious in the doorway scratching at an already developing set of hives on her arm.  Anya Smith, looking beat down for the day before it had even begun, was frankly not in the mood to deal with another inexperienced assistant.   

“What is it?”  Anya pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth attempting to maintain her composure.  Upon examining the nervous wreck of a woman, it became clear she would need to hire yet another replacement.  She toyed with the thought of purchasing one of the new androids that had been recently released but dismissed the idea.   

“Well, you see, your house was defaced last night.”  The assistant slowly drew out each word in an attempt to avoid getting the point for as long as she could. 

“I suppose that’s what I get for staying in the office all night reading over this legislation.”  Anya couldn’t catch a break with all of the laws Pereira had been trying to implement.  Massaging her temples, she heaved a heavy sigh.  Her mind drifted back to work as she attempted to figure out how to reword Pereira’s harsh ideas into something that wouldn’t cause a riot.  His ideals were often lost to her.  Snapping back into the moment when the sound of scratching interrupted her thoughts.  The assistant stood unmoved in the doorway.  Anya tsked annoyed.     

“Oh!  The perpetrators are in the custody of the police.  They’re on the phone and wondering what you would like to do?”   

“Forward me the call, and for God sakes, get me a fucking coffee.” 

Law Enforcement Locale 

2073 

“Cynthia, what happened to your day off?”  Lieutenant Henry-an impish man-seemed to inquire about Cynthia’s personal life every instant he could.  But alas, he was of a higher rank, so she humored him.  

“Apparently they don’t exist.”  She fought the urge to roll her eyes.   

“What’s the wife think of that.”  He thought he was funny, entitled to laughs by this statement.   

“Doing damage control just now.”  She shook her phone at him before continuing through the glass doors of the building.   

She gave the receptionist a defeated look once inside the building.  The receptionist set a folder gently on the counter in front of her, wincing a little.  Almost like she knows the hours Cynthia was putting in at work and that she wasn’t putting in at home.  Oh wait, she does, Cynthia thought.   

Cynthia’s attention roamed up to the television above the receptionist’s head.  It was muted with an image of Richard Pereira speaking.  Oddly enough, the man never, or hardly ever apparently, gave interviews.  Her eyes scrolled across his words shining on the screen.  We’re doing everything we can right now.  The state of the climate is my top priority right now; I have a private team working day and night to try to figure out why the smog problem seems to be getting worse.  I assure you there is nothing to be worried about.  The interviewer trailed off onto another question, some other trifle about Richard’s personal life, losing Cynthia’s interest.  Time to face the task at hand.   

Inside the folder was a barrage of images of obscenities spray-painted on the outside of a home, alongside an officer report from the scene.  Cynthia stopped at the last photo inside raising a brow to the receptionist, “Burn the regime huh?”  

“The cops caught one of the kids involved.  She’s in your office.”  The receptionist shrugged pointing a long red nail in that direction.  She followed the invisible line to see a familiar head of brown hair through the door.   

“Good God,” Cynthia grabbed the file and headed for her office.  She took long graceful strides fully preparing to lose her shit.  She quietly closed the door behind her and turned towards her daughter, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”    

“Mom, I know what you’re going to say but I’m tired of being told what to do, who to hang out with, where I can even stand.”  She gave her mom a pleading look.  Pleading for her to understand.  Pleading for her to let this one slide.   

“Listen Mia, we’re lucky to even live here.  If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t know where we’d be.”  

“I never asked to live here!”  Her daughter threw her arms in the air dramatically.   

“I don’t want to hear it.”  Cynthia paged through the report.  “God damnit, this is serious.  The government could take this as a threat.”   

“A threat?  Some teenagers spray painting a house, yeah okay.”  Mia’s tone was thick with sarcasm.   

“I’m not joking around, there’s been a lot of these instances lately and I know they’re looking for someone to make an example out of.” 

“What would they do.”  Mia’s mood shifted.   

“I don’t know.”  

Liberty’s Brink  

2080  

Richard Pereira is a suave man if you’d ever seen one.  All business, never faltering under pressure.  He sashayed through the office every morning, without fail, sending a wink to the receptionist before boarding the elevator and going up forty floors to his penthouse of an office. 

“Good morning Mr. Pereira, is there anything I can get you this morning?”  His well-trained assistant asked, just as she always did every day.   

“Maybe a tea to calm the nerves this morning, thank you Cassandra.  Remind me what time my meeting is with Herald?”   

“Of course, sir.  He should be here by eleven.”  Cassandra answered automatically.  She made sure to carefully memorize his itinerary every day.   

“Could you order lunch for two around then?” 

“Of course, sir.”  Cassandra broke her perfect posture to bow slightly before promptly exiting.   

Sinking down into his large leather desk chair Rich began idly scanning the morning news when a video of a newswoman caught his attention.  He pounded the volume up on his computer anxious to hear what she was saying.  Scientists are doing all they can to solve this bizarre phenomenon but have yet to produce any real answers to our questions on the state of the climate.  What is causing this rising smog and is it detrimental to the climate?  We hope to find an answer and a solution in the near future.  Tune in to the evening news for an update.  He sneered at his phone before continuing to scroll past.   

Beginning to get fed up with repetitive news, Rich made his way over to the span of windows making up one of his walls.  He briefly glanced down into the dense fog which created a dark floor for the city below the carefully engineered roads that seemed to float above it all.  It looked ominous, like a black hole waiting to swallow the city whole.  Turning away from the window sighing under his breath, “It plagues this city like a disease.” 

A few hours later, a few floors lower. 

“Herald, I need to know what the plan is here?  You know I’ve had faith in you, and you haven’t disappointed me, but I need something from you here.”  Rich exhaled exasperated.  This conversation was going nowhere fast.   

“Mr. Pereira, I’ve told you all I can say at this time.” The elderly man’s hands shook slightly where they rested on the table.   

“God damnit Herald!”  Across from Herald, Rich slammed his fist down cracking the large glass table.  Seconds passed before regaining his composure.  “Listen, there is unease growing in The City.  If there’s one thing I know, it’s government.  Those people down there, they make me uneasy.” 

“The people deserve the truth,” He spoke significantly quieter than Rich.  

“What are you implying?”  Rich raised an eyebrow.  

“What you’re doing isn’t right.”  Herald’s voice had lowered to a near whisper. 

“Then God damnit, what should I do?  Do you suggest I put out a damn newsletter?”  They both knew that was never going to happen.   

“Perhaps you should speak with your scientist friend.  If I recall it was him whose bright idea all of this was.”  Herald held a certain air of superiority to him as the church’s government liaison which made Rich uneasy.  “I’ve seen your new drafted legislation about regulating the church.”   

“Maybe there should be a separation from church and state after all.”  Rich scoffed.  A long pause passed between the two.  “You were as much a part of the creation of that repulsive place as us.  I don’t need your damn high road speech.” 

“This is a mistake; you’ll realize that with time.”  Herald stood up slowly, his bones being tested by the weight.   

“It wasn’t a mistake when something was in it for you.”  Rich derided.  “You’ll regret this when I start taxing that fucking church.” 

M. C. High School 

2073 

Mia sat on the green turf of the courtyard with her two best friends since age two, Elle and Justin.  They were practically dating at this point, although they’d never admit it, leaving Mia as a third wheel at all times.  Sometimes it really sucked only having two friends, especially when those two friends start dating.  It did give her a lot of time to think though.  Mia had a love-hate relationship with thinking.  On the one hand it was cool to have thoughts.  On the other, the thoughts were not particularly good.  Mia was smart, but she also liked being happy.  In order to maintain this happiness, she had to remain oblivious to her surroundings.  Unfortunately for her, because of these newfound lovers, anytime during their lunch hour that may have been spent gabbing about this or that was now spent staring at the high school across the street, H. C. Preparatory School.  She would watch as all the rich kids in the area would get their keys from the valet to their fancy-pants Tesla model XYZ, or whatever letter they were on now, to go to their snazzy cafés and drink overpriced coffee and pop Xanax, or whatever rich kids are doing these days.   

“You know what I’ve been thinking?”  Mia inquired to the group.   

“Do we even want to know?”  Justin broke his gaze away from Elle to respond.  He was pessimistic.  Mia was pessimistic.  This irked her.   

Elle elbowed Justin’s stomach eliciting a grunt before murmuring for him to quit being rude.  Elle was nice, too nice, the sort of nice you know is going to get taken advantage of in one way or another.  She would be the type of person to get their lunch eaten every day by some guy named Jeffrey and never say anything about it.   

“Screw those prep kids.  What even makes them so much different than us?”  Mia fell back onto the soft faux grass.  The clouds were oddly shaped floating idly by, oblivious to anything happening below.   

“Oh god not this again.  If someone hears us that’s it, expelled.”  Justin exhaled, annoyed.   

“Shut up, you sound like my moms.  I know you guys hate it too, you have to.  Just because their parents work for the government or whatever they do.  We’re treated like trash.”  Eyes searching her friends for a glimmer of hope.  A moment passed.  “Come on, I know you guys agree with me, someone just needs to do something to put them in their places.”  Mia’s eyes sparkled.  This look was something her friends knew well.  She seemed to get this glimmer in her eyes whenever she got a bad idea she wasn’t planning to back down from.  She had always been rebellious, and her teenage years were proving to be no better.  There never really was a rhyme or reason to why she did what she did.  Mia liked to test limits.  Sometimes it was just hard for her to see the big picture.  She wasn’t really that concerned about society’s new distrust for the government, or whatever the government was so obviously lying about concerning the smog below the city.  What she was concerned about was how unjust the world above it felt.   

“Something like what?”  Elle spoke, terrified of what Mia had planned. 

Mia unzipped her backpack to reveal six spray-paint cans. “Let’s send them a message.”   

The Aviary; Cocktail Bar 

2026 

“We have to eradicate them!”   

“Sebastian you are one crazy man!”  Rich hiccupped out before slamming his empty beer onto the stainless-steel counter.  The place was overpriced but not like either of them couldn’t afford it.  They fit right in with all the other pretentious day drinkers, because if you’re wealthy enough it isn’t a problem.  Sebastian and Rich had been roommates during their undergrad years and thought it was a good idea to catch up for drinks.  It wasn’t.   

The two sat side by side contrasting each other in almost every way.  Sebastian’s sunken cheeks to Rich’s wide jaw line.  Deep auburn curls framed by narrow collarbones to perfectly trimmed blond hair not falling anywhere near strong shoulders.  Both with brains set on evolution.  Day had bled into night and the conversation had ranged from Sebastian’s obsession with fried pickles to a much darker topic.   

“Crazy, or genius?”  Sebastian smirked wickedly, seemingly very proud of himself.  He had easily developed an entire socioeconomic system over drinks.  Or maybe he had thought of this before.  Rich didn’t really know.  He attempted to drunkenly recall their college days together.  Who would’ve thought that he would have ended up in congress.  More surprisingly that his geeky roommate would be making on the higher end of six figures a year.  No, he needed to stay on track.  He thought he had remembered Sebastian actually being from a slightly impoverished home himself, who had only been able to attend their university due to some huge scholarship that Rich had never really cared to ask about.  The memories seemed to blur together between their drinks.  Sebastian did sound crazy, and Rich knew that morally it was questionable at best but couldn’t help thinking about how much society could benefit from the system that Sebastian had just described.   

“Think about how much lower the crime rates would be.”  Rich took on a serious look as he began to fall deep into thought.  “And how much of our tax money that we wouldn’t be losing.  Or it could go towards something else, like schools.”   

Sebastian glanced sideways towards the man who looked like he had just come to a euphoric revelation.  Rich had a glimmer in his eyes.  It reminded Sebastian of a flame, a single flicker with the potential to be a raging wildfire.   

Clink! 

Celine’s 

2080 

Mouse walked down the street a little slower than usual, taking in all of the Shallows glory this particular evening.  The cold air felt refreshing, calming her nerves as it rolled into her lungs.  Oddly refreshing since it was almost always cold, maybe she was just losing her mind. 

She had made a habit of observing from the safety of her attic window for years now.  Down on the street, looking at someone for too long could get you shanked.  Even the good people down here had turned callous; you could never really know who may have been exiled to the here for murder or who had simply vandalized a building.  This place had, at some point, gone from simply impoverished people to a society run by crime rings. 

Mouse carefully thought over her plan in her head as she made her way to her destination kicking damp cigarette butts.  She came to a building with dim neon lights shining through the windows, reflecting off the wet ground.  A piece of plywood hung above the door with “Celine’s” painted messily on it.  This was the place.   

“Move it along girl.”  A large man in the doorway boomed.  The intense noise almost made Mouse jump.   

“I came all the way here, I’m going inside.”  She narrowed her eyes like an animal ready to go in for the kill.   

“This place isn’t exactly your type of crowd.”   

“I’m here to work.”  She continued unbothered by the huge man before her.  

“I’ve never seen you here before.”  The man was skeptical.  He took a step toward her in an attempt at intimidation.   

“I’m new, and Celine is going to be pissed if you don’t let her brand-new money maker in so can you just save us both the trouble?”  Mouse dropped the animalistic look in a moment and switched to a helpless girl trope blinking up at the man.  “Please, I really don’t wanna get fired on my first night.”  She pleaded.  He contemplated for a short moment before letting her in.   

“Dumber than I thought.”  She mumbled walking through a pitch-black hallway into the club before being hit with the deep smell of smoke in a slightly less dark room.  She could barely make out anything as she attempted to take in her surroundings, trying to assess where to go.  Most of the room was made up of bodies, moving bodies, still bodies, dancing bodies.  The only illuminated area was at the bar to her right and on the stage further into the room showcasing a topless woman gyrating in the center.  Mouse settled on the bar.   

She slid onto one of the empty barstools.  No one wasted their time or miniscule amount of cash at the bar here.  She wasn’t alone for very long before a slim woman with long blonde hair invaded her space to lean against the bar next to her.   

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice a new face in my own club, did you?”  The woman’s voice was silky smooth in Mouse’s ears.  “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue Mia?”  

“Don’t call me that.”  Mouse turned to glare sharply at the woman before turning her attention back to the bar.   

“That’s right, you go by Mouse now, right?”  The woman giggled lightly, “Well I’m Celine, but I’m sure you know that considering you mentioned me out there just now.”  Mouse felt violated that she knew so much about her but wasn’t surprised.  Celine was a woman to be reckoned with, arguably the highest standing member of the Shallows.  But still, she was without a doubt a twisted woman who enjoyed expressing her knowledge of everyone and everything that goes on in the Shallows.   

“I have a proposition for you.”  Mouse said bringing her eyes up slowly to meet Celine’s.