The concrete steps led to a dark, cavernous space that rang with echo of our feet. Here the old man took a torch propped against the wall and lit it. The flickering flame revealed that we were standing on a wide ledge made with cracked tiles. A number of columns supported the roof above. There was a tunnel on the far side that passed through the room. Without a further word, he brought us down a small flight of stairs that led to the tunnel. Beneath our feet were four ribbons of unbroken but rusted metal that disappeared into the darkness. The atmosphere was dusty and foul, but I was relieved to see that the Mutans had not followed us down here.
Suvan finally spoke. “What is your name?” Her words echoed down the tunnel, fading into a whisper.
“My name? I don’t really remember,” the old man replied uncertainly.
“Everyone has a name,” Suvan stated.
After a hollow laugh, he said, “I’m usually called the Old One, but Tahn will suffice.”
“Tell me, Tahn,” I said. “Where exactly are we?”
He giggled. “The Ancients called it a subway. There used to be vehicles that rode on the iron rails here, ferrying people through the city. These tunnels snake under the streets, with the stations giving access to the ground above. I’ve found them to be the best way to travel without hindrance. Of course some of the tunnels are very dangerous so it’s good to know your way around here.”
I tried to think of something like cars driving underground, but I had a hard time imagining why anyone would want to do that. It was much better to see the sun than travel through a gloomy passageway like this.
Suvan, being more practical, asked, “Where are you taking us?”
Tahn replied grumpily, “Questions, questions – do either of you ever run out of questions? We are going to my home, of course. There we can talk and have something to eat, my dear.”
Suvan was the persistent type. She asked, “Can you tell me why the Mutans leave you alone?”
He sighed. “They have always left me alone. They left my father alone and his father before that. My family has lived in this city since the beginning of time. The Mutans have the decided that we are wise in the ways of the Ancients. Since they are descended from the power of the Ancients, then my wisdom is sacrosanct.”
“So you are like a holy man to them?” I asked, skeptical of such an outlandish idea.
Tahn shrugged. “You could call me that.”
“What about that trap of yours that we fell into? Was that to capture the Mutans?”
“Hoo-Hoo! The Mutans? There is nothing to discover there," he replied cryptically. "No, I was looking for new specimens to add to my collection. There are always new creatures being born in the Wasteland and especially here in the city. I study them. Now no more questions.”
I glanced at Suvan who just shrugged her shoulders in resignation.
We continued walking. In the darkness of the tunnel, time and distance lost all meaning. Tahn’s torch was the only light source, the flames casting our long shadows against the dirty brick walls. After passing several more silent stations, we finally stopped at a metal door tucked into the side of the wall.
With a gentle tug by Tahn, the door swung open with ease to reveal a flight of stairs.
“I hope you are not tired,” he said. “We have a long climb in front of us. I do promise you good lunch though. It has been a long time since I’ve had company.”
“I will be fine,” Suvan replied.
“As will I,” I said.
Tahn giggled again, a habit that I was finding most annoying. He said, “Very well, I hope so.”
We started climbing. The stairs were perfectly preserved, and I noticed from the sound of our boots that they were made of metal which been painted white many times. Every dozen steps, the stairs stopped at a landing with a metal door. Each door had a number painted on it that incremented as we went up. By the time we reached number twenty, my breathing was becoming labored. I saw that Suvan was also tiring from the effort, but to my dismay, Tahn was only looking amused. He seemed to suffer no ill-effects from the climb. Perhaps he was used to it.
“Hoo-Hoo! I thought you two youngsters would be able to keep up with me.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Suvan managed to gasp out.
I kept my tongue and said nothing, instead concentrating on the task at hand.
We did not stop climbing the stairs until we reached a door painted with the number thirty-two. Tahn extinguished the torch by dumping the lit end into a bucket of sand. He then opened the door for us, flooding the stairwell with sunlight. Suvan and I entered, blinking.
After my eyes adjusted, I saw that we were in a massive room with a ceiling supported by row of evenly-spaced pillars. There were jumbles of Ancient artifacts piled up everywhere, along with a messy bed and a table of a modest nature. The most amazing part was the walls. They were nothing but glass all the way around. The building we were in stood deep in a group of skeletal ruins made of metal and fragments of glass. Below, the streets were laid out in regular pattern. To the east, I could also see the riverbed and the trickle of water it carried. The view at the horizon was spectacular with the walls of the canyon clearly visible. I felt like I could see for miles.
Suvan let out her breath. “It’s amazing!”
Tahn cackled with delight. "I'm glad you think so, my dear."
I waved a hand in the direction of the other buildings. “Compared to those ruins, why is your place so free of decay?”
“It’s a lot of hard work, but before I tell you that story, let’s have some food first.”
“What exactly do you eat?” I asked, imagining rats or even Mutan flesh.
“Let me show you,” he replied proudly.
Tahn then led us back to the stairway. We climbed upwards again, but only went up one flight to the last landing. We went through the doorway to the roof of the building. Here we were inside a glass structure that was exceedingly humid. On the floor were long wooden troughs with healthy plants growing inside. I immediately recognized tomatoes, melons, lettuce, green beans and a myriad of other produce. I had never seen anything like this before. Who had ever heard of growing plants indoors?
Tahn was talking proudly. “The greenhouse provides me with all the food I need. The water comes from the rain-filled cistern tanks above. It all works rather well, though I’m getting too old to bend while working on the garden. Now let’s return downstairs and have some lunch.”
Lunch turned out to be a vegetable stew. It wasn't particularly tasty, but it was still better than lizard meat. Afterward, he brought out three glasses of red wine. It wasn't very good either, but it beat the water I had been drinking the past few days.
As we drank, Tahn started rambling at length. “You have been through the Wasteland and survived long enough to make it into the heart of the city. You have seen how dangerous it is out there, with the murderous Mutans and the other evil creatures that live to kill. There is no place of safety other than this building of mine. There is fresh food and fresh water. The Mutans dare not approach me.”
“That is all true,” I agreed, wondering why he was telling us this.
He continued, “I need help here. The building requires constant repair and maintenance to stop Father Time from taking what is rightfully his. The gardening alone takes up hours of time every day. I need more free time for research – to figure out what makes the technology of the Ancients tick and what causes the creatures to mutate while here in the Wasteland.” He looked at me. “Would you be willing to help out?”
“We could stay for a few days and help,” I replied thankfully. I was glad for another chance to rest, before we pushed on to the mountains.
"I guess so," Suvan replied with little conviction.
Chapter 17