Just an Undercity Rat by Julie Steimle (best finance books of all time .txt) 📕

couldn’t afford—that and he wasn’t allowed to borrow the equipment from their shop.

Kicking his way through the trash that cluttered the bottom of the stair like autumn leaves, mostly papers and metal chips and leftover mulch bar wrappers, Jafarr crossed into the street. The melancholy he carried with him, his mind still sorting out the dreams from the night before, also reflected the despair of that part of the underground city. Since the death of Javer Clendar and the transfer of Officer K’ren, things had plummeted down hill.

The people had just stopped caring. The government never cared. Rats were not worth the effort. It would have disgusted him once, but as it all too common those days, and Jafarr merely trudged on through the undercity streets towards his destination. He kept his eyes down, though in the corner of his eye he could see groupies standing not far off the main road in their fraternal jackets, their eyes watching the foot traffic heading to the transit hall. He made sure he kept a sprinting distance away from them, though that particular group wasn’t as bad as O2, the gang that enjoyed harassing him whenever they spotted him in a crowd. Most gangs left him alone when there were lots of people around. The undercity always had groupies, but lately there seemed to be more of them. Only the police kept them in line—when they were around.

Jafarr crossed the ill-repaired street, ducking a little lower as flight cars enter the transit hall sped a few feet above his head. It always made him a little nervous walking under such traffic. If one car crashed…. He didn’t want to think of it. The transit hall was not too far off and that was all that was on his mind that morning—getting to his destination.

The well-worn route of stone that he took every day was slick in some parts though Jafarr stepped carefully. He walked into the spacious escalator shaft that took a sharp climb to the transit area, glancing up at the silvery arched ceiling lined in shiny metal, hopping onto the fast moving steps that vanished up into the light ahead of him. The yellow and blue lights around him throbbed against the rippling metallic ceiling, a free light show for the impoverished. He opened and closed his jaw a few times for his ears to adjust to the changing air pressure, glancing at the other quiet travelers on the other escalators rising into the transit sector. He checked his wristwatch. Sighing, Jafarr looked up again. He still had time.

The light ahead came quickly as the steps sank under the tiled floor of the upper level. Jafarr briskly stepped off the escalator, jogging into the transit sector somewhat before slowing down. Glancing around, he looked for a familiar face.

This area was always kept up better than the undercity even though it was still a part of it. Most of the transit sector was lined in tile with metal ceilings, lit above on the walls with a series of bright warm lights that took the chill off his bones almost immediately. Vendors sold out of small box-like stores recessed into the walls, but they all seemed to sell the same things from stall to stall: electronics, do-dads for dangling on clothes and hair, and handfuls of data cards holding reading material. Some sold food, and the occasional music shop caught his eye—especially when he saw the face of his great, great grandfather Kerzan the music star whom he was supposed to look somewhat like—but he continued on his way to the metro without stopping at any one of them.

All sorts of undercity people milled about the transit center under the flight traffic, some shopping, but most tramping to their metro stations. There were three stations that intersected there, making this particular sector a small economic hub. His eyes still skimming the booths, he noticed standing at one small electrical add-on shop a boy he knew. The boy’s hair was the same red-black as Javer Clendar’s but he wore it brushed slick to his head. As Jafarr approached, the boy turned and peered through the crowds, spotting Jafarr very easily among all those blondes and redheads. The boy waved to Jafarr as he gave the man at the shop his identi-card. Jafarr smirked, walking over to him.

The storekeeper handed the boy his card back with his purchase, which was no bigger than gumball. Taking both his card and his purchase, the boy strode over.

“Jafarr! You tunneler! I’ve been waiting years!” His broad grin noted his purchase as if he was pleased, but Jafarr was still chilled by his trip and could not be cheered by it.

“Hardly years, Dzhon. On the dot. Why are you so early?” Jafarr asked.

Dzhon smiled wider at his friend. “I’ve bought myself a present. Today is the day I pass the adult test and become the youngest adult in our time.”

Jafarr stared at his friend blankly. “I don’t think that—”

“Just imagine,” Dzhon said, too excited to let Jafarr’s attitude spoil his excitement. “I’ll be in the record books.”

“And on the lists,” Jafarr said with an exhausted turn of his head to peer over the crowd, always keeping an eye out for People’s Military officers.

Dzhon scowled immediately. “Spoil sport. You have to point out the negative don’t you. Besides, I’m too insignificant to be on any list.”

The boys walked together to the edge of the metro stop like two brothers. People passed by, looking the other way as they tried not to notice the exuberant conversation Dzhon was initiating, though their eyes most especially tried to avoid Jafarr. Because he stood out so much they knew he was trouble. Either he was a stray seer, or the rumored half-seer blood they had all heard was the last Zeldar…and that was just as bad. Besides, Dzhon was just too loud for the tastes of many in the undercity. Like Jafarr, most kept as silent as possible.

“That’s because you aren’t an adult.” Jafarr said. “A young one is a perfect indication that you need to be watched.”

Dzhon scowled all the more. “You are just trying to wreak this for me aren’t you? Pessimist.”

A metro rumbled into the cavern up on the rails with a gust of wind, echoing in the hall with a sound somewhat like bells and horns. The doors to the cars slid open. They stepped onto the metro car that was already full of undercity businessmen and students even after the exiting commuters completely hopped off.

Jafarr smirked and grabbed a pole near the door to steady himself. “It’s not like you’ll pass the test anyway. You missed the two categories last time. Weren’t you marked as emotionally immature and untrustworthy?”

“I’m trustworthy!” Dzhon cried aloud.

Several heads turned. He flushed, ducking his head apologetically.

       “I don’t doubt that, but—immature?” Jafarr smirked playfully, wrapping his arm around the pole.

“Hey! Don’t you start calling me immature! You didn’t pass because you were irresponsible.” Dzhon poked him in the shoulder with his free hand, raising his voice again.

Lifting his eyebrows at him, Jafarr smirked. “So what? I can be responsible if I choose to be. I just didn’t.”

Dzhon rolled his eyes.

The metro car rumbled in the tunnels and above the rumble the sounds of flight cars and scooters buzzed in the air. It had a lulling effect on many of those in the metro car, some nodding in sleep because of it, though others were nodding from real exhaustion.

When the metro car slowed down and stopped at another station, blowing and buzzing with that heraldic sound, the doors opened, but few exited into the undercity transit hall. More people filed in for the commute into the higher parts of the city. Here another face from the crowd joined the pair of boys giving them both a smile.

“Dzhon, Jafarr, hi!” the rather tall blond boy with creamy white skin said, taking his place next to them.

Dzhon glared at this newcomer, clenching his teeth though he was still mostly mad at his friend. Jafarr nodded, but held stiffly onto the pole, keeping balance.

“What gives? I said ‘hi’. What’s with the crabbiness?” The boy gripped the pole also, swaying with the moving cart as they sped onward.

“Hi, Alzdar. I was happy.” Dzhon then looked to his pal. “Jafarr is being such a P.M.”

Jafarr’s eyes flared at the mention of the People’s Military. “Listen, Dzhon—”

But Alzdar interrupted with a hiss. “None of that! We can’t be divided as long as they are united.”

Giving him a roll of his eyes, Jafarr shook his head with a disapproving knock-it-off look at Alzdar. Alzdar always sounded like a rebellion member. It was dangerous to talk like that—especially in a public place such as a metro…especially when he really was a rebel.

Alzdar stared back in retort, but words were no longer said. Instead, he stood with his two friends, hearing only the whir and ring of the metro as it shook with its passengers. The hum meshed and sifted with each of the boys’ thoughts, numbing them.

Jafarr sniffed, feeling a cold coming on.

The metro rolled down to a stop, their station—middlecity section nine. The tight crowd poured out of the wagon then stumbled down past the small shops into the exit cavern. This cavern was even nicer than the one in undercity. The light was brighter, much more pleasant, and the air already smelled fresher.

Lately they attended a middlecity school. Very few people from the undercity could, but after their undercity school’s broken ventilation system caused a pneumonia epidemic through all the grades, and the grav-machines malfunctioned in the school gymnasium, causing severe damage to the ceiling above it, they had to be evacuated to the nearest educational establishment. They had been attending school in the middlecity ever since.

Of course, their arrival did not come with negative repercussions. The middlecity teachers protested the first week, refusing to let even one undercity child enter their classrooms. But then the government sent the People’s Military to deal with them and there hadn’t been another protest since. Of course that meant that the middlecity school also lost a few teachers in the process, but then the undercity administrators were more than glad to put their own people in the vacancies. The government considered it better than letting the undercity children loose as it was easier to control children in school rather than releasing them. So, while their building was under severe repairs, they had to commute to the middlecity every day.

From the transit sector, the undercity teenagers from sections fifty-three to forty-eight walked together down the street, stuffing their hands into the pockets of their various worn vinyl and faux leather jackets, shuffling over the ground in their lesser-grade shoes. Compared to the sweatered middlecity dwellers, their plain clothes and varying degrees of gelled hair sculpted into shapes to look good while also removing the need to wash it so often made them look much like rotten apples sitting in the center of a neat tea table among crumpets and scones. Everyone watched them, heads turning to stare. Heads shook at the particularly disheveled and threadbare children then soon turned away.

Their trek from the transit center to their school took them through three transport-crossing zones, passing by several respectable businesses as well as near one of the entrances to the Seer Quarter where occasional traffic from the Seer Class came and went. As they walked by, business owners stood in their doorways almost to guard them from the undercity rats that passed by. Some of the kids ruffled at the snub though, like Jafarr, most ignored it. Alzdar was one of the few that made a face when he noticed one mother draw her child away from them, watching the street from a stairwell step. Dzhon also frowned, but instead of getting mad he just sighed. Jafarr merely at the trees as if taking a leisurely walk.

That was another difference between his neighborhood and this one. There were trees in the middlecity. It was a