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so doing, he left NewCitybehind. With every step, he widened the gap between the surface world of theLink, the Blackshirts, the civilized Provinces...and all that lay below, allthat existed outside of government control. Concrete walls rose up on eitherside of him, shutting him off from the lights of the city, gradually coveringhim in shadow—a metaphysical cloak of darkness that blurred reality until itwas all but forgotten.

Underground, the rules of the world above no longer applied. Therewas only one rule of law: survive. Crime became sustenance. Fantasyreigned supreme. You were just as likely to be attacked by a literalbloodthirsty freak as mugged, beaten, left for dead by a knife-wielding thug.It just depended on who found you first.

But there were faint rays of light that penetrated this darkworld. Followers of the Way had for years voluntarily entered the Undergroundin order to minister to the lost, bringing them food and water, blankets andclothing. Some believers had even taken up residence in the darkness, findingthis choice to be, in many ways, far from voluntary due to the persecution theyreceived on the surface in a world addicted to the Link's virtual vices. Whilemost followers of the Way resolutely made the decision to remainin the real world and endure the bigotry and hatred nonconformists alwaysreceived, hoping they could change people's hearts and minds, those whoventured Underground were a different breed altogether. They did not seek alife that was safer, where they could avoid persecution. Instead, they pursueda monastic life lived to its fullest, knowing any moment could be their last.

So it was here that Cade found himself stepping barefoot acrossslick, cold concrete in blinding black, one hand held out into the darkness,the other grasping the hilt of his kodachi, hidden up hisdrooping sleeve. He would not instigate conflict, but he would deal with itswiftly, should any come his way. Death often appeared without warningUnderground.

"Who goes?" a voice rasped as sharp fingernails pierced his outstretched arm.

Cade froze. He did not draw his blade. "Are you theGatekeeper?"

"I am." The wheeze of a cancerous throat was followed bythe gurgle of a high-pitched cackle. The grip on Cade's arm remained tight, awarning unspoken. "Blind as a bat you are down here, yet you ain't afraid."

"I have no reason to be. I have no quarrel with you."

A pensive grunt. "Not yet, you don't." Another wheeze."So how do you plan to pierce this darkness?"

"Is that my intention?"

"You arrive at my threshold as one with a purpose. I see itin your blind eyes. You won't turn back for fear of what lies ahead, that I cantell. But you'll need eyes that work right if you plan on following this pathUnderground."

Something oblong and flexible with a dangling rubber strap pusheditself into Cade's hand.

"Goggles," he mused aloud.

The narrow beam of a scanner flashed once against his wrist. Thenthe grip released him, claws raking across his skin as they let him go.

"Satisfaction guaranteed," said the Gatekeeper."Thank you for your patronage. Charges will appear on your creditstatement, available just a Link-up away—" The voice stopped as thescanner began bleeping. An alarm.

Cade knew why. He strapped on the goggles.

The Gatekeeper cursed. "No credit? What kind of weirdo areyou?"

Cade could see him now, this shriveled, half-sized creature. Hisskin hung low in thick folds, and strands of white hair straggled down from anotherwise bald and scaly scalp. Beneath an imposing, furrowed brow, hewore an identical pair of goggles, the lenses able to transform darkness intovivid clarity. Shades of illuminated grey.

"I am a Follower of the Way." Cade's answer was meant tobe enough.

The Gatekeeper whipped out a sawed-off shotgun from under histattered coat and brandished it, his long fingernails curled around the stock,the trigger. His eyes hidden, impossible to read. Dark teeth flashed as hehissed, "Gave up all your worldly possessions, huh? Reckon that makes you holy?"

Cade gripped the hilt of his hidden blade. When the moment wasright, he would use it. When it was necessary.

"How much do I owe you for these goggles?" His toneremained calm.

The Gatekeeper cursed again, shaking his head and making the thinstrands of hair snake crazily as he jerked the shotgun about.

"I might blow your damned head off, and you don't look theleast bit nervous!"

"I am here to find my friend. I have no desire tooffend—"

"Too late!" He cocked the shotgun. "Take 'em off.They're not yours, you didn't pay for 'em.Give 'em back, or I'll give you both barrelsand pick through the pieces for what's mine."

Cade would not be able to find Irena without the goggles.Assuming she had passed this way at all.

"You sold a pair to the woman who came before me."

The Gatekeeper's shoulders shifted upward and dropped."Mayhaps I did. Mayhaps I didn't."

"Which way did she go?"

"I said take 'em off and give 'emback." The rotten teeth flashed again.

Cade held the sword ready, blade pulling against the fabric of hissleeve. If the old man's finger even trembled on that trigger...

"Please tell me which way she went. I must find her."

The Gatekeeper's frame relaxed a bit. He grunted again."Maybe you're not so holy, after all. Chasing tail this time ofnight. What would your god think of that?"

Cade watched him through the lenses. "He understands allthings."

The old man cursed profanely. "We need more of your kind likewe need another Plague. I should shoot you just for the hell of it." Hechuckled then, lowering the angle of the shotgun a few degrees but keeping themuzzle trained on Cade's robe. "Seems like you're bent on making hell foryourself. I won't stand in your way." He snorted back thick mucus andjerked his head to the left. "Down the east tunnel. That's where shewent."

Cade tugged off the goggles and blindly held them out, listeningfor fingernails scratching against the shotgun.

The Gatekeeper snatched the goggles away. "You're a credit toyour kind, monk."

Recalling what he'd seen through the goggles, Cade started downtoward the left, across the wide expanse of vacant concrete, dodging supportpillars from memory. The tunnel, where high-speedtrains once carried passengers to and fro beneath thestreets of NewCity, would be only a few meters away, and he would have to dropdown a meter

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