Framework Chapter One


   Silas was one of the most respected men in the Scrapyard. Not only because of his imposing physical stature, but because he was a skilled craftsman who's services were always in demand by those in the medical profession. In appearance he stood a full head taller than the average man, with broad shoulders and thick legs that seemed rooted to the ground. To look at him one would immediately assume he was a man of violence, but in truth he had never struck another person in his forty nine years of carving out a living in the scrapyard. Even a display of genuine anger was a rarity among those that knew him.
   He pushed open the door to his flat and stepped into the street, shading his eyes with his hands as he stared up at the gray sky of early morning. On his block he was always the first to rise and gauge the weather, a skill he performed with unerring accuracy. If Silas set up shop, then his neighbours knew it was going to be a good day to conduct business outdoors.
   "Not bad," he mumbled.
   Silas glanced back at his home and the large wooden table leaning against the wall. Judging from the few clouds in the sky and the moist air, it was going to be a good day with a slight chance of rain by late afternoon.
   He strode over to the table and grabbed it with both hands, swinging it into place with practiced ease. The legs of the table plunged into pre-drilled holes in the street that prevented the table from overturning if a customer were to bump into it. Once the dust had settled, Silas set about arranging two chairs behind the table and placing a clean linen cloth over the surface.
   "Oh, I see you've started without me," said a feminine voice to his left.
   Silas turned his head and smiled at the young woman in the doorway. Yuko was his third wife and the two had been together less than a year. A woman twenty years his junior, Silas often wondered why she had chosen him over all the handsome young suitors that had showered her with gifts and praise. He had little to offer other than love, but for Yuko that seemed to be enough.
   Yuko stepped forward and absently ran her right hand through the luxurious black hair that trailed halfway down her slender back. She had almond eyes, full lips and was incredibly beautiful, but what Silas admired most was that she had a kind heart to go with her appearance.
   "Well I thought I would let you sleep a little longer," said Silas. "'I just finished setting the table and was about to fetch the tank."
   Yuko shook her head in resignation, whipping her hair about her shoulders.
   "You know we're a team," she said taking his hand in hers. "The last thing I want to be is a kept woman. I can't let you do all the work by yourself while I idle away my free time shopping for expensive clothes or having my hair done. What would the neighbours think?"
   Silas laughed and hugged his wife warmly.
   "By god you're right," he smiled. "We're so rich that I don't even need to work, I just sit behind this table all day making glass because I have nothing better to do."
   "And you are the best," she replied, patting him on his chest. "You know that's the reason I married you. What other man would have left that glass sculpture on my doorstep."
   Silas gave her a sheepish grin as he remembered the delicate crystaline bird he had created with love and given her when the two were courting. He had hoped she wouldn't laugh at the modest gift, and had been greatly relieved when she had smiled and accepted his offer of marriage.
   He turned away and walked into the flat, returning a moment later with a small metal tank in one arm and a chromed torch in the other. He set the items upon the table and proceeded to connect them with a length of nylon hose.
   "Could you pass me that wrench honey?" asked Silas motioning toward a toolbox several meters away.
   Yuko picked up the tool and handed it to her husband, who was hunched over the table deep in his work.
   "It was cold last night," said Yuko. "How soon before you fix the windmill?"
   Silas gave the wrench one final turn and let out a deep breath, satisfied that everything was connected properly.
   "It'll be fixed by the end of the day," Silas assured her. "I've found someone who's very good at repairing things, and he works cheap."
   "But why hire anyone at all?" inquired Yuko, folding her arms. "It's not as if you can't do the job yourself."
   Silas laid the wrench on the table and stood, arching his back to remove the stiffness.
   "You're right," he answered her. "I could repair the windmill but I might damage my hands. The person I hired has a natural aptitude with machines, and to be honest he could use the money."
   Yuko stared for a moment and then her expression softened. She knew her husband well and understood what he was saying.
   "Well I suppose it's all right," she said approvingly. "It's not as if we're poor so I guess a few chips won't put a strain on our budget."
   "Try two hundred," said Silas. "You can't get quality work done for a few chips. Besides you'll like this kid. I met him yesterday when I went to visit your father, and he seems to know what he's doing."
   "Ok I'm convinced," replied Yuko. "So what's the boy's name?"
   "Yugo," answered Silas. "He's just a kid down on his luck right now, but he's a good worker. He should be here sometime this afternoon."
   Yuko put her arms around her husband's waist and rubbed him on the back.
   "Well if he's as good as you say then you won't hear any complaints from me," she whispered into his ear.
   Silas smiled and looked into the deserted street. He could see and hear the bodies that would soon crowd the narrow lane in search of a bargain or cherished gift. ***
   Not far from where Silas stood a young boy lay on a roof of corrugated tin, gazing at a floating city wrapped in soft clouds and a sea of blue. It was Yugo's daily ritual to come to this deserted place where he could be alone with his dreams and speculations of the sight before him.
   As usual, Yugo wore canvas leggings tucked tightly into oilskin boots and was wrapped in a blue coat over a thick sweater and undershirt. It wasn't quite cold enough to justify wearing such heavy clothes, but experience had taught him that the scrapyard was subject to extreme changes in the weather, and it was best to be prepared.
   Yugo drew a deep breath of air, holding it until he felt as if his lungs would burst and then exhaling slowly. It had rained last night, and the heavy contaminants usually found in the atmosphere had washed to the street, making the air almost breathable if one didn't become greedy.
   The sky city hung low this morning, or so it seemed. So close that if he reached out he could touch it, wrap his arms around it and pull it to earth. Yugo had heard all the stories, and had even invented a few of his own. How could something so huge be suspended by the slim column that disappeared into the clouds? Was it true that there was a another Tiphares sitting at the edge of space, or perhaps the tubes that anchored it to the ground also supported it?
   Yugo had little knowledge of the workings of such things. Simple machines he could fix, but the principles in use here were beyond his comprehension. Maybe it was best that way, he figured. For to know such things would destroy the wonderful myths he had created.
   He lay his right arm across his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun which was ascending from the east. There was a jagged scar about his wrist that was less than a month old. He flexed his fingers and felt a twinge of pain run up his arm. With each passing day the pain grew less, a sign that his new hand was taking to it's host.
   Yugo raised his right arm and stretched it toward the sky city, letting his eyes run along the length of his arm so that for the briefest of moments Tiphares seemed to rest in the palm of his hand.
   It was then that he heard a loud scratching sound, as if someone were digging their fingernails into rusted metal.
   Yugo propped his body on his elbows and shifted to his left. Some five meters away a head of dark curly hair appeared at the edge of the roof, and beneath the hair were a pair of mischievous brown eyes staring at him. Then a hand appeared and pulled the rest of the body onto the roof.
   Tanji sighed and raised his right hand, scratching his head vigorously as he stood and walked toward where Yugo lay. He was similiarly dressed as Yugo, the exception being a small air filter slung about his neck.
   "Damn, I knew I'd find you here," said Tanji as he set himself next to Yugo. "'Why do you have to keep coming to this place? There's nothing here except rats and that stupid city."
   Tanji pointed to Tiphares and let go a wad of spit that carried for some distance.
   "You wouldn't understand," answered Yugo plainly. "I've told you a million times and if you don't get it by now you never will."
   "Yeah, I know," said Tanji glumly. "You wanna go to Tiphares and you've told me all that other stuff about your brother. But get real, guys like you and me don't get to do those kind of things. We were born in the scrapyard and that's that. It's best to forget about that crap and get on with your life. You're a smart guy Yugo, I've only been hanging with you for a year and I can tell you've got a knack for making money. If you just put your mind to it you could be somebody."
   "You couldn't be more wrong," replied Yugo. "There's only two kinds of people in this world, us folks that live on the surface, and those that live in Tiphares. And the goal of getting there is the only reason I make money. Someday I'll do it, you'll see. It's only a matter of time."
   Tanji frowned and lay back on the roof. The sun was starting to warm the air and felt good against his face.
   "Well at the rate you're going it'll take you a hundered years." said Tanji. "Ten million chips is a fortune in this town and most people never earn that much in a lifetime. You'll never do it sitting up on this roof."
   "Just you wait," smiled Yugo. "I have a job this afternoon fixing a windmill for a guy named Silas."
   "Hey, that wouldn't be Silas the glassmaker?" asked Tanji. "I've heard of him, he makes glass sculptures and the word is that now he makes medical supplies for doctors. You know, custom stuff like beakers, test tubes, that kind of thing."
   "I wouldn't know Tanji, just that he's going to pay me two hundred credits if I do a job for him."
   "Well you said that isn't until this afternoon," said Tanji. "I know where we can make a little cash delivering flyers, and it shouldn't take any longer than a few hours."
   Yugo stood and patted his behind to remove any dust from his clothes, Tanji followed suit.
   "Not today," said Yugo. "I have an appointment to see someone, and it's important that I be on time."
   "An appointment, who would make an appointment to see you? You're just some street kid like me, nobody cares about us."
   "I met someone a while ago and he wants to talk to me, that's all I know. I can't say anymore than that Tanji, maybe when I get back."
   Tanji turned his gaze over the city and looked in the distance where blackened specks of debris fell from the sky to be pecked over by humanity.
   "Ok, whatever you say Yugo. I'll deliver those flyers on my own. If you want to find me you know where I'll be."
   Tanji walked to the edge of the roof and gingerly lowered himself over, putting one foot against the top brace holding the storm drain in place. He grabbed the pipe with both hands and soon disappeared from view. Yugo would soon follow, but first he had to look again at the spectacle that was Tiphares. Yes it was still there, beckoning him, challenging him to conquer it if he dared. ***
   Yugo had passed the building many times and always stared at it in awe. A massive structure of metal and glass, stained by soot and grime that refused to cleaned away. It stood out from the rest of the city yet seemed the most fitting part. For the decisions made by those within had a direct impact on the citizens of the scrapyard. It's political and economic structure and the laws which governed it.
   But now Yugo was more than awestruck, he was downright terrified. For he was to enter this building and come into contact with a man of prominence. Someone who was directly involved with the factory and possibly held the key to his success. He was a man who could grant wishes and fulfill dreams, and Yugo was determined to meet him no matter what the risk.
   Yugo stepped forward and pushed aside a stained glass door that hid the interior of the building from unwelcome eyes. He stood in an expansive lobby of white marble floor and granite walls, polished to a high sheen. The lobby seemed deserted, and Yugo made his way toward a reception desk at the far end. Maybe there was someone there who could help.
   Reception was a huge granite desk that extended out from the wall. Yugo crept forward and stood on his toes, peering over the edge at a bank of telephones and a console of blinking lights.
   Suddenly he was face to face with a pair of huge eyes and grinning teeth. Yugo fell backward and landed on his rear, his heart beating like a frightened animal.
   "Oh, it looks like we have a visitor," said the deckman.
   It folded it's arms and leaned over it's perch, staring at Yugo with unblinking eyes. Yugo had seen many deckmen but had never had occasion to talk to one. He knew they were human, or had once been so, and attempted to shrug off the feeling of uneasiness in dealing with one for the first time.
   "I'm here to see Mr Vector," said Yugo in a steady voice.
   The deckman frowned and raised it's right hand, scratching above it's eyes.
   "Hmm, Vector is it? Well I gotta victor and a viper, and some floozy who's a doozy, but I ain't gotta a Vector in this sector. I think you're in the wrong place kid."
   What the hell kind of answer is that? thought Yugo. He could feel himself becoming angry and rose to his feet, taking several steps forward until he stood eye to eye with the whatever it was.
   "Look, I'm here to see Mr Vector," said Yugo sternly.
   "Nope, maybe you want velcro," it replied. "The stuff that holds you pants up, too bad I don't have any."
   "Listen pal!" said Yugo raising his voice. "I don't have time for this crap. Are you going to tell me where to find Vector or do I have to slug you?"
   Yugo raised his right arm and balled his hand into a tight fist. The deckman responded by raising it's arm over it's head and sticking out a long, grey tongue.
   "Ooh, violence!" it shouted into Yugo's face. "My dad can beat your dad, but I bet you ain't got one."
   "The hell with you!" shouted Yugo in frustration.
   He lowered his hand and turned his back on the sarcasm. Maybe it was a bad idea to begin with. Vector had requested to see him, not the other way around. And Yugo had better things to do than waste time arguing with some arrogant mouthpiece.
   "Hey, hey, hold up there sonny."
   Yugo paused when he reached the door and turned around. The deckman was waving him over. Yugo strode back to the desk and flopped his arms on the counter.
   "What is it now?" he asked.
   "Don't get mad," implored the receptionist as it leaned forward. "I was only teasing you, I get so many stiffnecks in this place that I thought it would be nice to have some fun for once. How would you like to be stuck here all day answering phones and the same boring questions?"
   Yugo shrugged his shoulders and stepped back. He could sympathize with him.
   "Ok, no hard feelings," he relented. "But I have to see Mr Vector. He asked me to come here today."
   "Oh, the big guy asked to see you, well that's different. Can't keep him waiting can we?"
   The deckman stretched one arm toward a darkened corridor and spoke quickly with practiced ease. It was obvious the poor soul had said these words a thousand times.
   "Take this hallway until you come to three elevators on your left. Go up to the nineteenth floor and when you get off turn right. You'll see a door with a stained glass window, it's the only one on that floor. That's Vector's office."
   "Ok," answered Yugo. "Sounds simple enough."
   Yugo started down the hall and turned and waved at the receptionist.
   "Thanks for the help," he said.
   The deckman gave a wicked grin and waved back to him.
   "Ah, think nothing of it!" he shouted. "Just be sure to say hello from me to that cutie that works in his office."
   This time Yugo couldn't help but smile. Not a bad sort, he reasoned. But what a miserable way to spend the rest of your life.
   As soon as Yugo disappeared from view the deckman spun toward his console and pressed a button beneath a monitor. After a few seconds the screen cleared of static and showed Yugo making his way cautiously down the hall. The camera feed was simultaneously being recorded to disc, as was standard security procedure whenever someone entered the building. ***
   Yugo arrived at Vector's office without incident. It was just as the deckman had said, a solid door of gray iron with a glass window stained red. Yugo stared into the glass but could discern nothing but the haze of strong light emanating from the ceiling.
   It was now or never.
   He grasped the handle and turned, pushing the door ajar just far enough to stick his head in. The office was rather spartan in appearance. Plain white walls on which hung a few cheap prints and a sofa with several chairs around. Across the room was another door and to get there one had to pass a desk behind which sat a secretary.
   Yugo entered and shut the door behind him. He walked toward the desk and immediately recognized the woman sitting behind it. She had copper skin and her hair was pulled fashionably back behind her ears. Her clothes were simple yet of better quality than most women wore, and her delicate manicured hands and red lips conveyed a pride in personal appearance suited to one accustomed to greeting people of importance.
   Myra noticed Yugo staring wordlessly at her and looked up from the document she had been reading. She ran her eyes over his body and broke into a generous smile.
   "Hey, I recognize you," she said warmly. "You're that kid I performed a switch on last month."
   "Yeah," replied Yugo feeling very much out of place in such surroundings.
   "Well how's that hand doing?" she inquired. "Would you like me to take a look at it for you?"
   Before Yugo could reply Myra pushed back her chair and stood. She picked up a pencil from her desk and walked around it to stand face to face with him.
   "Hold out your hand sweetheart," she implored.
   Yugo complied and raised his right hand, only to have Myra clasp his wrist and run her fingers softly over the pronounced scar.
   "It seems to be healing nicely," she smiled.
   Yugo nodded and then Myra gently pressed the point of the pencil against the tip of his index finger.
   "And can you feel this?" she asked.
   Again Yugo nodded, an act he repeated several times as Myra continued to prod his hand with the pencil looking for any lack of response.
   When Myra was satisfied she let Yugo have his hand back and stood with her hands on her hips looking at him.
   "Well everything seems to be alright so what can I do for you?"
   Yugo was a little taken back by her display of openess. True he had met her briefly sometime ago, but he hadn't expected to find a medical technician of her skill working as Vector's personal secretary.
   "I'm here to see Mr Vector," said Yugo.
   Myra walked to her desk and sat down. She proceeded to flip open a small stenopad on which were scrawled several names and numbers.
   "Oh, I see it. You have an appointment with Mr Vector at eleven am," she said looking at her notes. "It's going to be a while yet I'm afraid, Mr Vector is in his office right now having an important meeting. You don't mind waiting do you?"
   "Sure, I have lots of time" he replied.
   Yugo sat on the cloth sofa and ran his eyes over an assortment of dog-eared magazines strewn on the table before him.
   Myra returned to her work, humming to herself to pass the time. Yugo couldn't help but notice that she had a rather good voice, and was very pleasing to listen to. He could tell that Myra was friendly and talkative, and reasoned that it could do no harm to ask a few innocent questions.
   "Have you worked for Mr Vector for very long?" he asked.
   "Hm, a couple of years," she replied. "I'm sort of a girl friday. I get this, I do that. If it wasn't for me the boss would be lost."
   She smiled and tapped the pencil against the desk.
   "And where did you learn how to perform surgery?" he asked.
   "Oh, I've done a lot of things," she answered. "Sort of a jack of all trades. I've been a nurse, a waitress, a singer, and along the way I discovered I have a knack for organizing things. You have to know a lot to survive in this world, and I guess that's why Mr Vector hired me. I know how to get the job done."
   Yugo smiled politely and pushed his back deep into the folds of the sofa. He liked Myra, and she seemed a plain sort like himself. She had gotten where she was by using her skills and adapting to the situation at hand.
   "And Mr Vector, what kind of man is he?" Yugo asked tentatively.
   The smile faded from Myra's face and she looked away toward the far wall.
   "Well Mr Vector. He's sort of..."
   At that moment the door to the inner office opened and Vector stepped through. He was dressed in fashionable slacks of pale white and gleaming black shoes. His shirt was of shimmering burgandy and a black tie slung loosely around his neck. He projected an air of success, but also one of trepidition. As if one should be wary of becoming involved with such a man.
   Vector was accompanied by a portly gentleman with thinning hair and thick glasses. The two were smiling as Vector patted the man on his back and spoke to him.
   "I don't think you have anything to worry about," said Vector. "I can guarantee delivery on the seventh of next month at the agreed price."
   "Well that would impress me," answered his companion. "I'm counting on you Vector, I'm sure you won't let me down."
   "Have I ever?" Vector replied.
   Both men laughed as they passed by Yugo without acknowledging his presence. They stood at the door for a moment then shook hands, exchanging good byes.
   Vector closed the door after his visitor then spun around and walked toward Myra's desk, again ignoring the young man staring intently at him. The false smile Vector had worn a moment before was replaced with grim seriousness as he leaned on Myra's desk and spoke rapidly to her.
   "I want you to call Mr Planton and tell him to meet me at the usual place at four pm," he barked.
   Myra nodded and scribbled furiously in her notebook.
   "Yes sir," she answered without looking up. "By the way, you have a visitor to see you."
   Vector seemed not to hear and continued giving instructions for things to be done.
   "And tell those idiots in records that if they don't want to end up as deckers they had better stop screwing up. This is the last time I'll lay my ass on the line to cover for their mistakes!"
   Vector wheeled around to head for his office when his eyes came to rest on Yugo, who had buried himself in one corner of the sofa, looking up at Vector like a puppy that has angered it's master.
   Vector placed his hands on his hips and leaned back.
   "Huh, who's this?" he asked to no one in particular.
   "That's your visitor," said Myra sharply. "You'd know these things if you would just listen once in a while."
   Vector frowned at Myra and then turned his attention to Yugo. After a moment the corners of his mouth turned up as he recognized the face.
   "Yes, of course," he said. "You're Yugo, the young man Myra performed surgery on last month. How are you?"
   Vector extended his hand and Yugo grasped it, letting himself be shaken vigorously as he was pulled to his feet.
   "I'm fine," Yugo replied. "But if you keep shaking my hand like that it might come off."
   Vector let go and laughed heartily at the timely joke.
   "My apologies," he said. "Could you step into my office please Yugo, there's an important matter I would like to discuss with you."
   Vector placed an arm about Yugo's shoulders and the young boy let himself be ushered into Vector's domain.
   "Hold all my calls," he threw over his shoulder to Myra.
   Myra frowned and crossed her arms. She had only just met Yugo but already she had a genuine liking for the boy. He was just someone trying to improve his lot in life, and that was something she could related to. As much as she liked him, she wished he hadn't come here today.
   Vector shut the door behind Yugo and walked to his desk.
   "Sit, please," he said, indicating a chair in the middle of the room.
   Yugo glanced about and noticed that the decor was the same as the reception room outside. Except for several shelves of books the walls were a drab white. A row of fluorescents lit the room and made the flesh seem green. Vector's desk was also bare, save for a phone cradled in an intercom with several lights displayed. There was also an open ledger with a pen laid across the pages.
   The only thing unusual about the room was the chair in which Vector seated himself. Opulent black and gleaming chrome, it was obvious the man appreciated the perks of his position.
   Vector leaned back and gripped the arms of the chair, sighing as a man does after a hard day's work. Behind him several buildings rose from across the street, barely visible through grimed glass.
   "Well how are things going?" asked Vector in a casual tone.
   "I can't complain," replied Yugo. "I get by all right, but I have no idea what you want to see me about."
   "Can't complain you say, isn't there something you want to accomplish, a goal that you're striving for?"
   "Of course," said Yugo hurriedly. "I want to go to Tiphares, and you said that you could make it possible."
   "Hm, I did say that, didn't I?" answered Vector. "Well never let it be said that I'm not a man of my word. I can get you to Tiphares as agreed. The problem is, where or how are you going to get the ten million credits needed for passage?"
   Yugo stared dejectedly at the floor as he answered.
   "I'm working on it Mr Vector."
   "I'm sure you are my boy, it's just that I wanted to check on your progress. I sense real potential in you. You're a go getter, a man who won't take no for an answer. I would like to see you succeed Yugo, really I would. It's just that, realistically speaking there's no way you could earn the chips required on your own. You need help my young friend, and I'm prepared to offer my assistance."
   Yugo raised his head and looked into Vector's eyes. His disposition had suddenly brightened and he seemed quite different from the dejected child of a moment before.
   "Really?" he asked. "Can you really help me to earn enough credits to get to Tiphares?"
   Vector waved his hand in the air, indicating that the matter was simple enough.
   "Of course," he answered confidently. "I'm a man of importance in this town. I can make things happen Yugo, but I'll need your cooperation."
   "What sort of cooperation?" asked Yugo.
   "In good time my young friend, but I'm sure you must be hungry. It's almost lunchtime, maybe you'd like to have something to eat?"
   Yugo felt the gnawing in his stomach and nodded in agreement. He was never one to pass up a free meal.
   Vector swung his chair around and pressed a button on his phone console. A red light indicated that Myra was receiving on the other end.
   "Myra, could you bring in some food for our guest? And make it something special, I'm sure Yugo would appreciate tasting the same food as they eat in Tiphares."
   Vector took his finger off the button and leaned back in the chair, resting his head against his arms.
   "It shouldn't take a moment," he smiled.
   True to Vector's word, less than a minute later the door opened and Myra entered, pushing a cart covered with a checkered cloth.
   She stopped in front of Yugo and pullled the cloth away, revealing a bowl of gleaming white poreclain with a silver spoon draped over the rim.
   "Here you go," she smiled.
   Myra handed the bowl to Yugo who set it carefully in his lap. It was filled with a red fruit he had never seen before and covered in white cream. Yugo stared at the strange food and then looked at her with a puzzled expression.
   "Go ahead, eat it," prodded Vector.
   Yugo grasped the spoon and scooped one of the red balls into his mouth, and as he bit down his face lit up with pure joy.
   "This is incredible," he exclaimed. "What do you call it?"
   Vector smiled and leaned forward on his desk.
   "They're called strawberries," he answered. "And the stuff on them is whipped cream, it's the real thing, not that oil substitute you find in the city."
   Yugo swallowed the first and immediately ate another one. He was oblivious to the two people watching him, his only concern was to wolf down as much of the delicacy as he could before it was taken away. Such things he had learned early in life.
   "You can go now," said Vector turning to Myra.
   The woman looked dispassionately at Vector for a moment and then smiled at Yugo. There had been times in her life when she had been hungry, and found it easy to imagine how the young boy felt.
   Myra wheeled the tray out and shut the door behind her, leaving the two alone.
   "Are you enjoying your meal?" inquired Vector.
   "Yes," replied Yugo with a mouthful of strawberries. "I've never tasted anything so good."
   "I'm glad," Vector replied. "And this is just a taste of things to come Yugo. In Tiphares they eat like this everyday. Hunger is unknown to them, as is poverty. They're free of the duties of survival that people like us have to endure. There's nothing to do except enjoy life, pursue one's passion, or if you desire you can do nothing at all."
   Yugo listened to Vector's words as he ate, the vision of a utopian society free of strife danced in his head. A wondrous place of clean streets and pure air, populated by beautiful people who smiled as they greeted him with open arms.
   Finally Yugo finished and set the bowl aside. He had scraped it clean and even licked the spoon. Perhaps not the most polite thing to do, but when was the next time he would have such a meal.
   "Ah, that's better," said Vector. "You look happier than before, and I dare say that someday you'll eat like this all the time. It's all up to you my young friend. I can lend you my support, but what I require of you will be hard work, even dangerous at times."
   Yugo maintained a blank expression as he listened to Vector's speech. He was a little in awe of the man and was rather pleased to find himself in the privelaged position of talking to him. But a lifetime of growing up on the street had taught him to be wary of men who offered things for seemingly little in return.
   "Yugo, you're aware of the blackmarket trade in human body parts, are you not?"
   The young man nodded in affirmation. What Vector was saying was common knowledge to all who lived in the scrapyard.
   "Most body parts can easily be found or replicated, but the human spinal column, that's a different matter. Many would pay a fortune for such an item."
   "Yeah, I know about that," replied Yugo warily. "But spine theft is a serious crime, and people who take part in it rarely live to spend the money."
   "All too true my young friend. But the clever ones never get caught and go on to make a lot of money. It depends upon the resourcefulness of the individual."
   "I suppose," said Yugo rhetorically. "But what has this got to do with me?"
   "You're a smart boy," said Vector. "I wouldn't have invited you here today if I wasn't sure of it. Do you think yourself capable of procuring such an item as we've been discussing?"
   Yugo's eyes widened as the implications of Vector's words hit him.
   "I couldn't," said Yugo plaintively. "It's too dangerous, and it isn't right either. I'll admit I've done some things which weren't legal, in the street you do what you have to in order to survive, but this is different."
   "And that's all you're doing Yugo, just surviving. But you want to get ahead don't you? You want to go to Tiphares, and that takes a lot of money, money you don't have. If you have a better idea I'd like to hear it. But don't take too long, I'm an important man and I have a very busy schedule."
   Vector tugged at his left sleeve and glanced at his wristwatch.
   Yugo succumbed to a wave of panic and tucked his hands in his pockets. His heart was pounding and he was afraid to speak again for fear that his nervousness would show. This wasn't at all what he had expected. Vector wanted him to engage in spine theft, an offense punishable by death at the hands of a hunter-warrior.
   "But why?" pleaded Yugo. "You work for the factory, and it's the factory that puts a bounty on spine thieves. It doesn't make sense Mr Vector, if people knew about this the scrapyard would be in a panic."
   "And they won't hear about it will they?" snapped Vector. "What I'm telling you is confidential, I've taken you into my trust and told you something that most people never know. Were you really so naive that you didn't realize this is how the game is played? And that's all this is Yugo, a game. You're either in, or you're out. And there's a lot of people who would kill for the opportunity I'm offering you."
   "But I'm just a kid," said Yugo. "How could I get away with it?"
   "Don't you see, that's your advantage. Who would suspect a mere child of committing spine theft? And you have something else on your side, me. If you were to get into trouble I would try my best to smooth things over."
   "Could you really do that?" asked Yugo.
   "Why of course my boy, you don't think I would let you work for me in such a capacity without providing some protection. And when you've made enough you can go to Tiphares as promised, and once there you'd be safe."
   "How would I go about it?" stammered Yugo. "I've never had any experience in this kind of thing."
   Vector couldn't help but smile to himself. If Yugo had flat out refused at the beginning Vector would have had him killed and that would have been the end of it. But now the boy was asking questions. He was hooked, the promise of Tiphares was too strong to resist.
   "That's easily solved," said Vector.
   He opened a drawer and removed a sheaf of yellow paper, pulled off the top one and set to writing on it. After a moment he lay the pen down and ran his tongue over the edges of the paper, folding it in half and pressing it tightly with his fingers.
   "Here."
   Vector extended his hand and Yugo reached forward to accept the sealed note.
   "Take this to a man named Euphorian," Vector instructed. "He lives at two eighty Azael in the eastern sector. He'll give you instructions on what's to be done."
   Yugo looked at the note in his hand for a moment then carefully pushed it into a pocket. That slip of paper was the key to unlock his dreams, and if he lost it he would never get another chance.
   "I don't have to give you my answer right now, do I?" he asked.
   Vector waved his hands before his face and grinned.
   "Not at all Yugo. I know this is an important decision and I respect your wanting some time to consider it. But don't take too long, there are many who would be happy to be in your place."
   Yugo nodded and rose from the chair. He knew it was time to go and he had a lot of thinking to do. His mind was flooded with a collage of words and images, so many things that didn't make sense, yet all relative to to the decision at hand. He took a deep breath and started for the door, which seemed a mile from where he stood.
   "Myra, could you please come in here and show our young friend out?" said Vector into the intercom.
   The door opened just as Yugo reached it. Myra looked first at Vector and then at Yugo, who seemed to be lost in a wordless daze and oblivious to her presence.
   "Come on," she said gently. "I'll walk you to the door."
   Myra grasped Yugo's hand and he let himself be led, to where it didn't matter.
   "Be seeing you," said Vector.
   The door closed and Myra walked Yugo across the outer office, pausing for a moment at the receiving door.
   "Are you all right?" she asked looking down at him.
   Yugo snapped out of his daydream and glanced at her.
   "Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking, that's all. Seems I have to make a decision and it isn't going to be easy."
   "Well, take care of yourself," she said earnestly. "If you want to talk to someone I'm easy to find, but this is just between you and me."
   Yugo smiled weakly and let himself out. It was easy enough to find his way down, and it was apparent he wanted to do it on his own.
   Yugo shut the door behind him, leaving Myra to wonder what had taken place in Vector's office. She started for her desk when the intercom crackled with the sound of her employer's voice.
   "Myra, could you come in here for a moment?"
   Myra entered his office and saw Vector leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He was smiling contentedly, as a cat does after having feasted on a young mouse.
   "There's something I want you to do," he said without looking at her. "I want you to go down to subsection C in the lower basement where the entrance records are stored."
   "And?" said Myra folding her arms.
   "I want you to erase all records of our young friend's visit, from the time he entered the building until he left."
   "I can't do that," Myra answered plaintively. "It's against the rules as you well know. If I were caught there could be serious trouble for both of us."
   Vector made an annoying clicking sound with his teeth and shrugged off Myra's protest.
   "There'll be no problems," he assured her. "I know you can do it, and it wouldn't be the first time you've violated the law because I asked you to."
   Myra narrowed her eyes angrily and stared hard at him.
   "You seem pretty happy with yourself," she said sarcastically.
   "Oh, but I am." he said without looking at her. "I've just proposed a deal to our friend Yugo. And if he accepts, as I know he will, it will be to the benefit of both of us."
   "It wouldn't be anything dangerous or illegal, would it?" she said, knowing full well the activities her employer was involved in.
   "With great rewards comes great risk," he answered. "I'm not forcing him to do anything, the decision is his alone to make."
   "And what if he had refused?" asked Myra.
   Vector turned to her and his expression became grim. He was a man to whom only the bottom line mattered and human life was expendable.
   "Just another streetkid," he replied. "Who would have missed him?"
   Myra felt as if she were going to scream. She had to leave at this very moment or Vector might find a letter opener plunged into his eye.
   She turned and stormed from the office, slamming the door in her wake and leaving Vector to laugh at her.

---

Chapter Two