Talyesin's Tales

With apologies for lateness, as I was high above the American Midwest for most of yesterday...


The Mole leads us to his Underground Lair. I wish I was making that part up - melodrama isn’t my forté - but he actually has a sign out front of this old store that reads “The Mole’s Underground Lair.” Inside the store there are stairs carved out of the rock and leading to a big steel door that has six or seven locks on it. He pulls out a huge ring of keys and he unlocks some of the locks, letting us in. He throws a switch and a generator hums to life, lighting the small room with lightbulbs strung on bare wire hung from the ceiling. The room is a total mess of piled-up books, odd knickknacks, and thrown away furniture. He sits down in an old beat up armchair. And doesn’t invite us to sit.

“So tell me,” he says in that nasal voice. He has this not quite right British accent, like he’s trying to sound intellectual and not succeeding. His eyes never leave Ragdoll very long, and it’s starting to piss me off. I know it’s pissing her off.

“Why should three stalwart surfacers deign to visit me?”

“Drugs,” I say.

“No thanks, I’m trying to quit,” he snickers.

“Somebody’s running Boost and Pixie Dust out of your turf,” Ace answers.

“Indeed?” he says, looking away from Ragdoll for a second as he reaches for a cup of some brown liquid, slurping it down. A trickle of whatever it was runs down his stubbled chin, and he doesn’t wipe it away.

“Nasty bit of business, that Pixie Dust,” he says, looking at Ace. “But you’ll have to talk to the UnSeelie about that.”

“The UnSeelie have a court in Action City?” Ace asks.

“Under it, actually,” Mole smirks. “Under Weirdsville.”

“Waitaminute,” I say, “Since when does Downtown extend to Weirdsville?”

“Did you think Downtowners would happily stay in our ruins?” he snickers again. “Construction goes on beneath as well as above, my friend.”

Somehow the idea of Downtown extending into areas we didn’t know about really doesn’t sit well with me at all, but I leave it for now.

“So the UnSeelie are running Pixie Dust out through that brownstone - in your turf - and you’re letting it happen?” I ask.

The Mole goes all still and sets down his cup with great care.

“You mean to tell me my business?”

“No, I mean to offer you assistance.”

“Oh?”

“Must be tough, one man going it alone against everyone down here.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Look, I don’t have the first idea how hard it must be for you. But someone is running Boost and Pixie Dust through your turf and I know your record, I know you wouldn’t let that happen if you were able to do something about it.”

He thinks that over for a few seconds, staring at me the whole time with those beady eyes. Finally he nods.

“Yes,” he admits reluctantly, “It’s been difficult. The more Downtown expands, the less I am able to keep the peace, much less address the injustice... Truth be told, I didn’t even know about the Boost.”

“Look,” I say, “help us track down the Boost and we’ll... we’ll help you out here when we can.”

“Squirrelman can I talk to you outside?” Ragdoll says in her bitch voice. I’m in for it, I know. Ace starts asking Mole some questions about the UnSeelie, and she and I head up the stairs a bit.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Look, this guy, I know what he did...”

“You don’t have a GOD DAMNED clue what he did!”

“Keep it down, will you? I know what happened, Kimmy, I know your mom died in Downtown, I know-“

“She died trying to help that bastard. She died because he was too much of a coward to do anything about it. She died here in the dark, alone and scared-“

“She died on the job, and she wouldn’t have wanted to go any other way, and you know it!”

“If you think I’m going to help that ratfucker-“

“Do you want to run down the Boost lab or not?”

“Don’t you dare-“

“We live this life, we do this job, we know the risks. It’s not always fun and our decisions aren’t always easy. But we do what we do because we can, we can actually make a difference. You want hugs and puppies go back to Uptown. You want to bust up the Boost lab and maybe get some justice, then we have to help out the Mole. It’s that easy... or that hard. Your choice.”

She’s really quiet for a couple of seconds, then says, “Fine,” in a way that means it’s not fine, not fine at all. We start to head back down the stairs, but Ace is coming back up.

“He gave me a couple of leads, people to see, around Downtown. He’s not coming with, but we can operate down here. He won’t stop us.”

“Yellow bastard,” Ragdoll says loud enough to be heard downstairs, and heads back up to street level.

“You know, sometimes I’m glad she chose you,” Ace mutters to me.

“Yeah, well, sometimes I am too.”

We head out over the rooftops of Downtown - it’s very weird to be on a roof and look up and see solid stone - to a place at the corner of what used to be Waid Avenue and Schwartz Street. It’s one of the tallest buildings in Downtown - six storeys - and our guy is on the top floor. There’s a hole in the roof that leads down into an old office. Ragdoll and I drop down, Ace lowering himself after us.

“Hold it.”

There’s some guy sitting in the corner. I thought he was a pile of rags. He’s got a gun.

We hold it.

The guy with the gun raps on the wall three times, twice, and twice again. Four other people come in carrying shotguns.

“Whaddaya want?” the first guy asks.

“The Mole sent us,” Ace answers. “We need to talk to Peter the Great.”

“Oh yeah? What if Pete don’t wanna see you?”

“Tell Peter the Great two words: Boost and oranges.”

The first guy thinks about it for a second and sends one of his guys. After a few minutes the guy comes back and nods.

The first guy grins this rotten tooth grin.

“Peter the Great will see you now.”