Psilocybin Twenty-Eight

I left that night. Not that I didn’t intend to return, I just... I needed some space, and I figured my mom did as well.

So I went out and found Bet. She lived in a smaller house, with one parent. It was in a neighbourhood that had been, recently, next to the slums, but which had been swallowed up as they expanded outwards. Now there was a whole second level of housing above the first, with every bit of yard space taken up by corrugated tin walls and shoddy homes. I had to circle around a gaggle of bare-footed kids that ran by, and was watched by several stern-eyed women.

The city never stopped expanding.

It was kind of strange to me. If people were so poor, then why would they have more kids? But maybe that was putting logic before humanity. There was something intrinsic about wanting to spread out and be human when, especially when, things were going poorly.

There were also just more people priced out of the nicer neighbourhoods. The cost of those hadn’t dipped at all, because when did the cost of anything ever drop?

I knocked on Bet’s door, and she eventually opened it and let me in. I could tell she was somewhat self-conscious about the state of her home, but it wasn’t that messy.

We talked. I had been hiding a lot of things from her, some for her own safety, but I decided to come clean about some of that.

I basically told her that I was partially responsible for what was almost certainly going to be the fall of the city, and that I didn’t plan on sticking around. I had money stashed away to make a run for it, to take a train out, and I wanted her with me.

That meant taking her mother along as well. The woman had been working at a nearby office for the last couple of years, making enough to make ends meet, which was impressive enough, all things considered. Her father was no longer in the picture. I didn’t press.

Bet wasn’t sure, but I suspected that she would be coming. There wasn’t anything for her in this city except a few people, and even though she was young, she wasn’t stupid. She could see where things were going to fall, and she knew full-well what it would be like to be caught in that crossfire.

I gave her ten pounds.

It was a decently large sum. The kind of money that, a few years ago, I may have killed for.

If she came with, it would be enough to cover some expenses, maybe enough to keep their heads above water. Honestly, it was about what I think her services thus far deserved.

I headed out and wandered deeper into the slums after that.

I was accosted by some thugs, of course, but they were Union, and one of them recognized me before I had to make an example. It was enough to let me by until I found the shack where Willow and her little sister, Daisy, stayed.

It took all of three minutes for Willow to agree to come along. I gave her ten pounds as well, and she immediately stashed it away.

“When do you want me?” Willow asked.

“Tomorrow morning, at my main farm,” I said. “I might need some help carrying things. Pack light, if you can.”

“Will do, boss,” Willow said with a severe nod.

I headed out, returned to my corner of the slums, then I did the rounds.

It was strange, knowing that in just a couple dozen hours, I might be out of City Nineteen, never to see this place again. Still, I couldn’t sit back and reminisce, I had work to do. That mostly meant visiting every single one of my farms and grabbing the most valuable of my mushrooms, collecting spores and the notes I’d made.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I didn’t want to destroy everything I’d created. I still planted some rather dangerous spores. They’d collect the ambient mana and eventually burst. Anyone finding one of my farms would be in for a rough time. I could only hope that the lingering blessing of Feronie would maybe turn the spots into small, fungal gardens, hidden away deep within the slums.

My other option was to set things up to burn. Some explosive mushrooms, with a decently long ‘fuse’ where they would only burst after several days or weeks, and a few fragile canisters full of oil would do it. But...

I had avoided much of the last fiery disaster to sweep through the slums, but I still remembered it.

Strange, how I didn’t mind destroying a city as long as the deaths weren’t too horrific. A massive fire happened to cross that invisible line for me.

I collected every nearly-grown sample of my drugs. The healing mushrooms, those that caused the consumers to fall asleep, several poisons. I marked the jars and containers they were in, then found some members of the Union.

It wasn’t hard to have them ferry my supplies back to wherever their newest headquarters were. I kept that up until it was nearing nightfall. By then, the riots were in full swing. Fortunately, the loud retort of gunshots and the chanting cries of men singing songs of protest were distant. The riots were spilling out of the slums and into the wider city.

It was surprisingly quiet.

I returned to my farm, my main one, and checked on Sir Nibbles. He was resting, temperature close enough to average and temperament... about as awful as usual.

It was my last stop before returning home.

My mom was there. The lights were on, with the faint glimmer of them poking through the walls where cracks ran through the wood.

I paused outside. At that moment, I would have rather face off against a crowd of angry bullies. I shifted to the side and could make out the soft pastel of my mom’s dress. She was sitting at our table.

There was nothing for it. I knocked at the door, then waited for my mom to open. She did, looked at me, then backed away.

I followed her in, closing and locking the door behind me. Then I turned and took in the scene. A few things had shifted around. Some of our stuff was on the floor. More was bundled up in what I recognized as the spare blankets, the thicker ones that usually came out in winter.

“You packed,” I said.

“A few things,” she replied. “The things I don’t want left behind. There wasn’t much.”

I nodded at that. We weren’t exactly materialistic. Hard to be when there wasn’t much material to go around. Still, I noticed a few items missing. Some hand-drawn things that Dada had made. The drawers were all slightly ajar, and it was clear that she’d gone through and picked some things out of each.

“We’re heading to my farm in the morning.” I said.

“And then?” she asked.

“Waiting. For Bet, maybe. Willow and Daisy are coming.”

“Those are the... girls that you work with? I know Bet.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Willow is... rough around the edges, but she's good people. Daisy’s her sister. She’s quiet. I didn’t want to leave them here, so... yeah. I think Bet’s mom is coming too”

“And the others?” she asked. At my confused look, she clarified. “Their parents?”

“None.”

“Ah.” She looked over at her bed, then back to me. She looked exhausted. “What’s going to happen?”

I decided to focus on only part of that question, the easy part to answer. “Tomorrow, we’re going to take a train to City Seventeen. It leaves a few hours after noon. I’m just hoping that it isn’t packed. If it is and we can’t get aboard, then we’re going to have to walk a little. Probably rent a carriage out of the city.”

“That seems... like a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we afford it?”

“We can,” I replied. Her eyes shifted towards me. I knew what that look meant, but it still had me shuffling my feet. “I have money.”

“I know you have money,” she said. “Where did it come from?”

Some of it was from selling mushroom skewers. A perfectly legitimate business. Some was from the Union. Selling my [Veil of Sighs], that one big assassination contract, a few other things besides. I didn’t think giving her a detailed accounting would improve the situation. “Mostly the business,” I said.

“Mostly.”

I shrugged. “Yes?”

Mom closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead. “I don’t want to know.”

“We... can talk more about it tomorrow. Get some sleep?”

That was going to be a long one.

🍄︎🍄️🍄︎