Underground: The City of David, Book Two

By David Bailor

York City was one of the few U.S. cities that survived the destruction of a nuclear war. The democratic status of the city slowly began to change as the citys leaders began stripping away the rights of the lower-class population.

The self-proclaimed nobility provided themselves with a fresh, new urban city to further separate themselves from the lower class. The new city, the Citadel, was equipped with the latest gadgetry and encompassed more usable land than ever existed in York City. Unbeknownst to the Citadels elite it was also built directly above an underground sanctuary complex.

Once again there was a place where people could live and breathe without persecution and discrimination. Once again families could raise their children without the meddlesome interference of a government that forced their decisions upon them. Once again, even in a world bound by flex-stone and man-made walls, there could be freedom - Underground.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543459852

David Bailor

About the Author: David Bailor, born in Florida to a military family, has always called Colorado home. David has kept busy with a decade of service within the United States Marine Corps, raising a family of six and spending many years of his life in the service of his church. After many years of night classes, David finally graduated Sum Cum Laude from Regis University with a Bachelor’s degree in Information Technology. He enjoys playing and teaching guitar, singing when no one else is around, playing and coaching volleyball and softball as well as hacking around on any golf course for which he has not been barred. David is a skilled storyteller and is always welcome around a campfire, as a speaker at a fireside, and even as a speaker at a church congregation.

Book preview

UNDERGROUND

The City of David, Book Two

DAVID BAILOR

Copyright © 2017 by David Bailor.

Library of Congress Control Number:     2017916258

ISBN:                  Hardcover                978-1-5434-5984-5

                            Softcover                   978-1-5434-5983-8

                            eBook                        978-1-5434-5985-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/20/2017

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Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Several editors devoted many hours of painstaking effort in a bold attempt at correcting my many mistakes:

My profound gratitude to my friend and brother-in-law for his devotion to the many rules of the English language and his uncanny ability to find and correct grammatical errors.

I am also very grateful to my friend, editor and fellow author, Chris Canter, for the countless hours he dedicated to The Underground. His untiring effort, dedication, patience, and professionalism are greatly appreciated. But, what was especially appreciated, was his devotion to the storyline. His dedication to the characters within the story was a constant encouragement that allowed me the freedom to sacrifice a rule from time to time to keep the storyline alive.

This book would not have been completed without the encouragement, sacrifice, and the behind-the-scenes work by my amazing wife, Donna.

Finally, my undying gratitude to my English teacher, my moral compass, and someone I have grown to admire in every facet of her life – my Mom.

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Prologue

New York City was devastated from the radiation wars over global oil rights. One of the few major cities that survived the holocaust from the fallout was a shadow of the once, great city; now called York City. At first, the democratic status of the city was strong and unwavering as stragglers and survivors from the surrounding area made their way into the city. Gradually, however, as each major city around the world exuded dominance in their geographical area, the leaders of the city began to take away rights and privileges to which the people had long since been accustomed.

All educational opportunities were assigned by committee and according to the needs of the City. Employment was available within any service controlled by the city’s administrators. Free enterprise existed in name only as the entire monetary structure within the city was also in the control of the administration. The people still had the power to vote yet, oddly enough, the only representatives who made it to the podium were the politicians that wanted ever more and more control.

Robert Kendal and his two sons, Darren and David were engineers that planned to change the way the city was run. They created ingenious inventions that not only helped keep York City safe and clean, but also forced the administration to bring down prices of necessary items that kept the populous under their control.

The inventions helped to make the Kendal’s popular with the people but not with the leadership of the city. When a terrible accident ended Robert and Darren’s lives, David and his wife, Max, continued their work by creating an underground city that would be free from tyranny. The groundwork of the city was constructed while an enormous dam was built; to power York city. A small, guardian city was built just outside of the dam’s construction site that allowed the aristocracy of York city a fresh, new place to abide while the people continued to struggle within the slowly deteriorating conditions of the old city.

The new guardian city, the Citadel, was perfect. It contained all the latest gadgetry, it included more usable land and was built directly above the underground city that David had built for the people who wished to escape tyranny and oppression. Most importantly, no one within the administration of York City or the Citadel knew anything about the City of David.

Once again there was a place that people could live and breathe without oppression and persecution. Once again families could nurture and raise their children without the meddlesome interference of a government that made all their decisions for them. Once again, even in a world bound by flex-Stone and man-made walls, there was freedom.

Chapter 1

Jimme, you better get moving or you’ll miss your shuttle, Shay shouted across the dining room hoping he would hear her warning from the bedroom.

Her husband smiled and left the windowless bedroom at a slow saunter. I Jimme began with his accustomed sarcasm, am never late.

The smile remained on her lips but she shook her head in mock amazement which in no way disturbed her shock of unruly, blonde hair. Oh, yes. That’s right. I had forgotten that you believe the entire city will wait for you!

Jimme finished zipping up the front of his jumpsuit before replying, I don’t need the entire city to wait for me, just the lifts. He smiled and gave Shay a big hug before he picked up his utility belt, slung it over his shoulder and turned to the doorway.

Shay smiled appreciatively at her husband. He was in his mid-forties but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. He was a lean man that seemed to refuse to show any sign of aging. His hair was still jet-black, his trim mustache showed no signs of grey and he kept his body in excellent shape through a rather rigorous workout schedule.

He pressed a button just inside the doorway that caused the door to slide open with a quiet hiss. I only have a single shift today, sweetness, so I should be home in time to help with dinner he spoke over his shoulder as he walked into the hallway. He turned and blew her a kiss just as the door slid quietly closed between them.

It was early enough in the morning that it seemed the entire complex was still sound asleep. There was no activity in the hallways to distract him nor any noise from the other apartments as he made his way through the maze of dimly lit corridors. Jimme and Shay were only one of the nearly million couples living in the underground city called, the ‘City of David’; named for the founder of the city, David Kendal. Like the greater part of the population in the city, they lived within cluster neighborhoods located on the third level in an apartment-style home.

Their apartment boasted two bedrooms, one bathroom and a small living space with no real view to speak of other than into the hallway which eventually led to a small courtyard in the midst of their neighborhood. Jimme entered the courtyard and kept walking; there was nothing in the courtyard that had ever interested him. The statues and monuments that had been strategically placed throughout the various courtyards and parks by the government’s Remembrance Board never seemed to portray the past the way his ancestors remembered it.

He strode briskly into a wider maze of hallways which indicated he had entered an area that received a greater amount of human traffic. His goal was just ahead in the main plaza where the large, crowd-transport elevators would take him to the engineering level.

The immense lift doors opened just as he rounded the corner. A satisfied smile lit his face as he winked into the monitors above the doorway. He pulled out his security badge and briefly flashed it toward the electronic eye before he worked his way to the rear of the spacious elevator.

Jimme had been trained as a Treatment Specialist where, in an underground city that relied upon cleansed, recycled air and water to survive, was a necessary occupation. He had the clearance to travel to any level although his usual commute took him to the lowest level of the city. From time to time he was called upon to check and replace sensors anywhere within the city but most of his time was spent in the engineering level located in the bowels of the underground complex.

Shay shook her head again when she saw his wink and watched her husband board what she liked to call his ‘shuttle to the basement’. She clicked the exterior monitor off and sighed as she gathered her tool belt and strapped it around her slim waist. She pulled a light backpack from off the back of the dining room chair, slipped it over her shoulders and meticulously fastened the ties before straightening up for one last look around their apartment.

Jimme and Shay Coste lived along the outside containment wall of the city which was considered quite enviable by the general population since there was at least one wall of silence available to them. Unfortunately, the downside to living along the outer rim was that they lived the furthest away from any activities that were hosted on their level as well as the lifts which could take them to any other level of the city.

Being an electrical engineer, she could also be deployed anywhere throughout the city. The original exterior cables that had fed the city with power from solar disks located far above and outside of the city walls were being systematically replaced with interior cables that tapped the energy provided by the movement and activities of the occupants of the city. Replacing the cables and sensors had been a self-preservation move pushed by the city’s engineers. The administration had rightly felt that there was too much of a risk that their power might be accidently cut off by the sun-dwellers above them. Therefore, the solar technology that was used to power much of the city was being modified and put to other uses.

Shay stopped in front of her full-length mirror with a critical eye to get a final sight-inventory. She adjusted her belt and flicked her hair before she smiled, turned and walked to the doorway. She pressed a control and seemingly spoke into the air although what she was really doing was leaving a message for her daughter in another section of the city. Lara, honey, your father has already left for work and I am leaving now. Good luck getting your next article published and we’ll see you tonight for dinner.

She pressed the same button her husband used earlier to trigger the door to slide quietly open. Without looking back, she strolled into the hallway and proceeded towards the same bank of lifts Jimme had used not too long ago. Shay paused within the courtyard her husband had entirely dismissed and considered the several statues and plaques that were on prominent display. She knew that the displays were rotated every few cycles to other levels and other courtyards but this particular exhibit had always captured her interest.

She strolled into the middle of the courtyard and paused in front of a commanding figure. Robert Kendal must have been an impressive man, she mused as she read the plaque that described the man whose vision had been used to shape the city where they now lived. The City of David was designed to house upwards of 4 million people, she continued to read. The various levels allowed for farming, ranching, government, entertainment and housing as well as facilities for water and air management.

Shay stepped to the next display and her eyes automatically focused on the industrial complex within the eighth level which depicted where her husband was no doubt already at work. The lowest level was constructed at the height of York City’s engineering prowess. Three generations ago, every bit of the best technology available was built into the underground city and housed in that level. Before the inhabitants of the underground city were severed from York City, every possible upgrade had been applied to the facilities within the engineering level.

Shay glanced up at the timepiece above the passageway, I’ve got time, she thought. She stepped past the elaborate placards that displayed the various levels, Level 7 – Hydroponics, Level 5 – Sports/Civic Centers, she mumbled before coming to a halt in front of the statue of the founder of the city; David Kendal.

A half-smile appeared on her lips as she began to read the plaque that listed his accomplishments. She only read a few of the many achievements before her mind began to wander. She was already thinking about one of Lara’s articles, The Decline of a City. What would David think of his city, now, she mused. He had tried so hard to create an environment where people could be free to learn, work, play and worship without the oppression of an over-bearing, if well-meaning government. But, here we are only three generations later, already on the verge of converting to a socialist society!

Lara had published a number of articles that earned her a reputation for being fair-minded although somewhat slanted towards looking out for the common worker. Her Decline of a City article had ruffled more than a few feathers.

Even though there were laws protecting free press and free speech throughout the city, the article only managed to get circulated through three of the eight levels. Naturally, the commentary first spread from her employer’s place of business, The People’s Press, of level Three. The people of the working class quickly identified with the article and the news spread to levels seven and eight. It seemed that, once the dignitaries of Level One caught wind of it, the article was just as quickly shut down.

The Decline of a City attempted to express that, despite the best intentions of the founding charter of the city, a caste system had begun to grow from within the populous of the city. Lara cited the rich land owners of the hydro farms and ranches on Level 7; where only a few private owners of the smaller properties were left to compete against the giant corporations. Most of the food that supplied the entire city was exported from this level and the large-tract owners were fast becoming so powerful that the laws of the city seemed to no longer apply to them. Too many instances of favoritism involving the rich have been reported for the daughter of a couple of engineers to ignore the growing trend of discrimination toward the lower class of the city.

Anyone wandering the hallways by the courtyard early that morning would have thought that Shay was in deep thought. She shifted her weight back on one foot with her jaw contemplatively rested in one hand while her arms were folded across her breasts. Her mind took in the displays of the levels closest to her but she kept comparing the infant city to her daughter’s description of an already crumbling realm.

Level 6 had, once, been a hodge-podge of small parks and recreational areas devoted to family-style entertainment. In the beginning, entertainment had been limited to carnival-type rides, movies, production studios and gardens. As the city developed over its relatively few years of existence, the limited space was remodeled and transformed to produce other forms of entertainment that proved to be much more profitable. Many of the smaller, privately owned properties were purchased and converted into more lucrative businesses and, once again, the few but wealthy owners were rapidly reaching a point in which they could exhibit individual control across an entire level.

Shay began to wander through the exhibits again. This time she stopped in front of a depiction of the administrative level; Level One. The people who worked and lived on this level were the ones who had expressed the loudest outrage at Lara’s article. The upper-most level of the city had been constructed for the purpose of allowing communication between the staging level and the Citadel; the above-ground guardian city and gateway to the City of David. The people of Level One had been the coordinators that passed information, equipment and people from secure locations within the Citadel to the hidden city below until the leadership could be transferred to a fully operational underground city.

The staging area with its support facilities had been completely destroyed when David Kendal was killed in the very act of transferring that leadership to his hidden city. It was probably only natural that the facilities on the uppermost level had been adjusted to provide communication from the administrative offices to the people within each of the eight levels. Perhaps it had even been part of David Kendal’s design that Level One would become the communications hub and housing for the various government officials and the families of those people assigned to the city’s departments; communications, security, facilities and environment.

According to Lara’s article, too many people in positions of administrative power were in bed with the rising lords of the levels. This could only mean that, eventually, the future of the city would be decided by the politicians and their wealthy supporters while the common worker would be constrained to increasing levels of poverty. The politicians had cried foul when the story was published and the article was silenced. But enough people had read it that the idea had caught on and outrage slowly began to spread throughout the city.

Shay glanced back up at the chronometer above the hallway. That’s enough daydreaming for today, she thought. If I don’t get moving, I will be the one late to work and Jimme will never let me forget it!

She turned away from the stone memorials to the past and walked the last few passageways to the lifts. Shay caught the next one that would take her to the first level but, just before the thick doors slid shut, she gave a quick wave at the bank of monitors just in case her daughter was watching her leave from her own apartment.

Lara smiled as she saw her mom wave to her on her way to work. She remembers everything she thought and switched off her exterior monitor.

Lara was a lot like her mother. She had a strong, compact body that seemed to never lose energy. Her green eyes were always on the move; noticing and capturing everything that went on around her. She had shapely lips set above a strong jawline that suggested that she could be toyed with but not crossed. Her vigor and vitality seemed to have literally come to a head at her hair. No matter what product or method she used to tame the wild shock of blonde hair, it was ultimately discarded as unworthy. For now, her locks were pulled back and bound tightly into a severe pony tail. Already, though, strands of hair had struggled loose and had strayed annoyingly into her eyes.

Her computer console was open with small stacks of notes and photographs scattered around it and across the desk in some sort of organized chaos. She looked at it and sighed. The expression in her eyes showed both the eagerness to return to her story and the reluctance of sliding back into something distasteful. She carried her freshly filled cup of coffee back to the table, took a sip and set it down on some papers already stained from an earlier cup.

Like both her parents, she had an excellent background in engineering; but she also enjoyed writing. Although it had been somewhat of a disappointment to her parents, it was no real surprise that she had turned down a number of offers for higher education and promising employment with more than a few of the city’s engineering firms to become a freelance media correspondent.

The media manager of The People’s Press, showed a surprisingly strong show of confidence towards the twenty-four year old when he agreed to the hiring of Lara Coste for her first, real assignment. Lara knew she had excellent analytical skills, no doubt passed down from her parents, and she was certain she could use those skills to gather and process information from the multiple sources within the communications division of the city. She was also confident that she could take that information and weave an entertaining and instructive story that could benefit and enlighten many of the people on every level of the city.

Now she was not so sure.

She pushed a few sheets of paper aside and selected a dark photo that had only arrived late yesterday. It had been sent to her by her boss, Dennis Holland. Mr. Holland had been selected and promoted to Executive Vice President of Level 3 Communications by the Mayor’s staff just a few years ago. Although it seemed odd that someone so high up on the corporate chain would send her any information at all, the note that accompanied the photo had piqued her curiosity.

Check into this. It’s right up your alley. C.H.

For a few moments she studied the picture depicting the city’s Mayor shaking hands with someone with whom she was not familiar. It was easy to recognize the mayor; he was almost always seen wearing a blue business suit, dark tie and a crisp, white shirt. He was clean shaven which only drew attention to his boyish face framed by a butch-boy hair cut that made him appear to be a simple statesman or perhaps a clerk in a small-town country store.

The other man stood in stark contrast to the slim politician. The dark suit jacket was stretched across the husky frame. The broad shoulders and thick chest along with the tight crew cut made his head look almost too small for his body. The stone from a ring glittered from the large hand that enveloped the Mayor’s hand in a