By Archie D.

Danker had become a popular term used to describe people in the lowest level of society, usually residing in the Lower Grid. Chicago had two Grids, the Upper Grid and Lower Grid. The Upper Grid was on the surface, and marked the city limits. The Lower Grid, however, stretched for miles past the city limits and was considered a more lawless underground. The only way to access the Lower Grid was to go through secret hatches called Lower Ports that were hidden inside buildings. The shop owners had a job to protect the Lower Ports and each had different passcodes to enter.

The Lower Grid was built when the earth still feared nuclear war, serving as a way for a whole city to still function while being safe from radiation, but now it is used as a hideout for jahn smugglers and mercenaries. Like the districts, it had a nickname. It was called the Narrows. 

. . .

The C-17 cargo hauler touched down in front of Grandma Gertha’s Tea shop. Mo stepped out onto the cracked and fading asphalt of the unused streets, looking around the empty avenue. There were two faint lines running parallel along the middle of the street, the knowledge of their function lost to time. Dim street lamps were placed at intervals along the sidewalk, leaning over the street in a metal canopy. Brick apartments stood bunched together, only two or three stories tall. Lights showed through some of the curtained windows, casting shadows down onto the dark street. It was one of the last few places in Chicago that had not changed since the sun days. You could still see fire hydrants and the stoplights, from when cars were still touching the ground. 

Jay exited the ship soon after him and observed with Mo for a quiet moment, then gestured for Mo to follow him. The tea shop was open, but it appeared to be empty. Through the smudged window, you could see a teenage girl leaning against the inside of the counter. She looked about Jay’s age; she was tall, with long hair drawn up in a ponytail. She was wearing a tan apron and a pale blue shirt, and was currently looking curiously at the duo outside. 

Jay led Mo to the door and opened it, triggering a tiny bell chime. It was quiet inside the shop, and a sweet herbal aroma lingered in the air.

Mo’s smell sensors traced the fragrance to the back room, in which a huge silver kettle sat steeping. It was a small shop, with only two small tables. The walls were painted a dull green, connected to a grey counter and display case. Inside were small treats, like chewberry muffins and jahn-infused hand cakes. The girl at the counter hadn’t moved from her relaxed position, but she had obviously become more curious of them.

“What can I help you with today?” She straightened her posture, activating the order slate and continuing to stare.

“I would like a–” At that moment, the tiny bell rang, and two officers stepped into the shop. They weren’t armed, and clearly didn’t recognize Mo or Jay. They got in line behind the duo and looked up at the menu on the wall. “Actually, I think we will take a couple more minutes to think about our order.” Mo and Jay stepped aside, letting the officers order.

“Maybe they’re just getting some tea,” whispered Mo.

An officer came closer to the counter and looked down at the girl. “I’m going to have a chewberry muffin and a cup of the ‘Sunset Reflection’ with milk,” he said. He stepped out of the way to let the other officer order.

“And I’ll have the same.” The second officer pulled out a card and handed it to the girl.

“That will be twenty-four thirty-five, please.” She tapped the card on the order slate and handed it back to the officer. Then, she turned and walked down the hallway, into the kettle room.

The policemen walked over and sat down at a table. Soon after, the girl returned with two cups of tea and brought it over. 

Once the girl had returned behind the counter, Jay walked up and leaned over so only she could hear him. “We would like the Black Tree tea, steeped for two minutes and boiled for three,” he whispered. The girl said nothing, went to the back, and returned with a cup of tea. Jay was confused. It looked like normal tea, no secret key or note. 

“We are out of that tea right now,” said the girl, nodding her head slightly at the policemen. “I thought that you might enjoy this while we wait for the new shipment.” 

“I understand.” 

“We should wait in the ship until the officers leave,” whispered Mo. The duo left the shop, stepping out onto the empty sidewalk. Mo opened the ship’s side door, sliding it carefully. They entered, Jay closing the door behind them, and ascended up the metal ladder into the cockpit. Still holding his tea, he set it on the center console. 

“Those officers must have been on break,” said Mo. “They didn’t seem to be looking for anyone.” From his view, he could still see the officers sitting in the shop. They were still sitting there talking, not having any hurry to leave. 

“A lunch break can only last so long, right?” Jay leaned over, trying to see them. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they clearly weren’t paying attention to the ship. The girl wasn’t behind the counter anymore and was out of sight. After a couple of minutes, one of the policemen checked his watch and said something to the other one. They both stood up, looking around before leaving the shop and taking off in their cruiser.

Relieved, Jay took a sip of his tea and got out of the cockpit. Mo stayed in his seat, silently staring out of the window. He remained still, leaning onto the glass, with no light in his eyes. He was shut down. Jay didn’t notice, and wasn’t halfway down the ladder before he collapsed, a searing pain in his throat flowing down to his abdomen. He could hear the door opening and could feel himself being dragged out of the ship. He tried to call for Mo, but his voice was painful to use. His assailant, who he could not see, was grabbing him by his collar. He could feel concrete beneath him, the rough ground catching his shirt and scraping his back. He could hear a door open and the ringing of a tiny bell, and then he blacked out.