Down on the Street

We had squatted the Chrysler building. We wanted the Zeppelin mooring. The penthouse had been reserved for group temple, while the floor below had been divided into four elemental rooms for the appropriate types of workings. The upper floors of the building belied the shabby nature of the living and training quarters below. The upper mid-section of the building had been reserved for practice with various kinds of weapons- edged, firearms, explosive devices- anything we might need if the Filth ever decided to clear out the area. The lower mid-section was home to the classrooms where we trained children, adolescents and youths in the finer points of magic and hand-to-hand combat. There wasn’t much time to waste on cultivating the soul. These kids needed to know how to make things happen yesterday.

I began climbing the stairs up to the 23rd floor where most of the cadre lived. We hated taking our cues from the little Stalinist cliquelettes overrunning Europe, but there seemed little choice. Not everyone wanted to be a warrior, especially in a time like this. Some people just wanted a place to eat, shit, fuck, raise their kids and live their lives outside the jurisdiction of the Triumverate(!). Some people wanted to teach the kids, grow the food, work on spellcraft full time… I worked more with esotech division called Craftwork than any of the fighting. I pushed myself up higher and higher, feeling the strain in my thighs and legs. I remembered that when I was in London I climbed higher than this every day.

The 23rd floor was painted all grey on the inside and had a chemical lab down at the end of it. We made the bulk of our cash pushing methamphetamines to middle America, with a small heroin operation that we were using to undermine the Rastas. For all their talk about clean living they were easy enough to get on the needle. Their entire prostitution racket was hemorraging money into the best Hong Kong Hank money could buy. They had me working on quality control with the grey salt.

23rd floor… 23rd door… why?