• “Get the f*** out of my store, you filthy thief.” And with that, Mr. Buolson- an imposing, beefy man in his mid-forties- tossed Carson out the doors of his butchery. The teenager, carried by the admittedly overzealous force of the man’s throw, rolled a few feet before coming to a complete stop. As Carson slowly picked himself up off the ground, Mr. Buolson roared at him, sending spittle in every direction. “If I ever catch you in my shop again, I’ll chop off your hand,” he waved his cleaver menacingly, “And feed it to my customers!” With that, the red-faced, heavily mustached man slammed the door shut and retreated into his shop.

    Carson spat at the ground in front of the store. “Yeah, well f*** you too!” he yelled back.

    “Well, that went well,” a familiar voice said behind him. The distinct, near-Russian accent- combined with its almost synthesized female voice- gave away the speaker’s identity immediately.

    Carson turned around and grinned at the Quarian female. “Hey, Maealra. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

    “No, not at all,” Maealra replied. “What happened in there? I thought you said you were good at this.”

    “I am!” Carson claimed exasperatedly. “It’s just that the man has eyes like a hawk. Beady, squinty little eyes that watch your every movement.” He made pincher motions with his hands to demonstrate just how beady.

    The Quarian sighed. “Oh, well. I guess I’m eating paste-ration tonight.”

    “Hold on, hold on!” Carson muttered quickly as he reached up under his shirt. He pulled out a plastic package with about a pound of green, poisonous looking meat wrapped inside. “Here, I snagged this.”

    “No way!” Maealra almost squealed as she snatched the package out of his hand. “How-what-when…”

    Carson grinned mischievously. “I told you,” he said. “I’m-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence as Maealra almost tackled him with a hug. “Hehehehe…” he chuckled. “Don’t thank me or anything.”

    “Oh, shut up.” Maealra released the boy and punched him. “Let’s get back to the others and cook this up.”

    Carson rubbed his arm. “Ok, sounds good.”

    The pair took off down the narrow New York street. The over-crowded sub-levels of the city seemed to swallow them as they walked, their way lit only by half-buzzing, artificial lights. Above them criss-crossed hundreds of walk-ways, pipes, and wires: the underbelly of a utopia. Years of building and infrastructure- mixed with a bit of desperation due to Global Warming- forced the poor and impoverished of New York down into the worm-infested guts of the great city. The Sewers- no longer true sewers, but every bit as filthy and vile as in centuries past- served as a slum for the denizens of the so-called metropolis. Indeed, this part of Earth seemed to have more in common with Omega than with any recognizable civilized center.

    Still, even in this sludge-ridden excuse for a habitable zone, people continued to make their way. As Carson and Maealra navigated the labyrinth of tunnels and halls, homes and stores popped up around every corner. For every scum-bag dealing Red Sand on the corner, stood opposite him a family making the most of the very little they possessed.

    Carson came from one of those families.

    He and Maealra ducked beneath an overhang into a damp, dark hole in the wall. Barely lit stairs spiraled downwards into the darkness. As they descended, a wet and musky smell filled the air around them. The stairs led to a small door-way; an inscription over it read, “The Shepard’s Rest.”

    Carson opened the door, and he let himself and Maealra into a small, concrete room. Moldy mattresses lay on the ground on the far side of the room, and rats and roaches crawled freely to and fro.

    A group of children huddled around an old oil drum. A small fire leapt weakly from inside the drum, warming the scantly clothed urchins. The smoke from the drum rose up and escaped the room through one of the many pipes leading up to the ground level.

    “Hey, guys!” Carson called. Their little eyes looked up, big smiles plastered to their faces. “Maealra and I are back!”

    “Carson!” they cried as they clambered to their feet and tackled the teenager. The five children- from eldest to youngest, Norris, Jill, Jesse, Veronica, and Nick- laughed and giggled in delight as they jumped all over Carson and tried to pin him to the ground.

    “Nice to see you guys, too!” Carson laughed. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

    “Nick fed our bread to the rats!” Jill complained as the kids backed away from Carson.

    Carson looked at the youngest boy, only 6 years old. “Is this true, Nick?”

    The little boy stared guiltily at the ground. “Yes… I thought the rats looked hungry, so I gave them bread…”

    Carson took a knee and set his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Nick, you knew that that was our dinner, didn’t you?” The young boy nodded. “But you wasted it anyways. Now, because of what you did, we’re all going to go hungry tonight.”

    Nick teared up. “I-I’m sorry, Carson. I-I… I…”

    Carson wiped the tears from Nick’s eyes. “It’s ok. You’re going to make it up to everybody. You’re going to come with me to get food.”

    The young boy’s eyes lit up. “I get to go with you?!”

    “Yes.” Carson stood up. “And you’re going to earn back that bread you wasted.”

    “But Carson!” Jill whined. “Why don’t we get to go with you.”

    “Quiet, Jill,” Carson chastised. “This isn’t a field trip. Nick is going to work and get us dinner.”

    Maealra tapped Carson on the shoulder and took him aside. In a hushed tone, she whispered to the teen, “Carson, what the hell are you planning? You aren’t seriously going to take Nick out there to work?”

    “Don’t worry,” Carson assured her. “We’ll go to the ground level, and I’ll just have him shine a shoe or something. I’m not going to throw my brother to the dogs.”

    “And if he can’t earn the food back? Then what?”

    “I’ll make him work a little, and then when he isn’t looking, I’ll pickpocket somebody. It’s a win-win. He learns a life-lesson and everybody gets to eat.”

    “Fine. Just be careful.”

    Carson smiled cockily. “Me? Careful? Never.”

    “Carson…”

    “Ok, ok,” the teen grinned. “I’ll be careful.” He motioned to the child. “Come on, Nick. Let’s go!” He turned back to the Quarian. “Watch the others. I’ll be back by nightfall.”