Toby Limbach
12-18 category (16 years old)
PARIS, THE HIDDEN CITY

The concrete labyrinths of Paris hold many secrets. Some are dark and lost, others dark and remembered. This story however, refrains from darkness, and fights the black in it’s own backyard…Officially, The Society lives in name only, a title graciously displayed on a black-and-white police document somewhere in Paris, hidden under dusty memos and unanswered correspondence. Unofficially, a group of dedicated men lie on grubby sleeping bags in the heart of the sewers, their treasure waiting.

The dank, filth-ridden pipes of a cities waste-water are no place for the remnants of a glorious past. Centuries of history, honour and French magnificence lie rotting in neglect under the busy and uncaring streets. Hidden in corners, underground warehouses and abandoned pipes sit artefacts, sculptures and masterpieces of art, lost and ruined.

Their saviour Henri Dumont, all blue coat and black beret with a Gauloise stuck to his lower lip, stumbled on them by accident. He’d followed a backwater pipe looking for a dropped ring, and found a set of twelve nestling in a rat bed. Realisation at his ancestor’s abused legacy and anger at the world and immoral bars blaspheming the romance of France, The Society was born.Under the ground, away from the hustle of everyday life, The Society thrives. Commanding a network of workers moving quietly and quickly along dark and lonesome tunnels, they pick their target, and attack. Security, loose and bored with nothing to do, is helpless under such a ferocious and mysteriously unnoticeable avalanche. For The Society do not steal, do not damage, they repair.Sneaking where no one can see them, the men and women of The Society live and breathe where their work takes them, painstakingly restoring the artefacts of France.

Dim torchlight shines when no one is looking, and soft clicking of metalwork when no one is watching, The Society arrives, restores, disappears. Hidden, mysterious, illegal, and glorious.Headquarters are hard to find: the police have searched – not for their own purposes but from complaints of other sewer dwellers – through many a cobbled alleyway in Paris. The river, majestic if not dirty, runs the entire length of the city brushing its banks with a carefree wander, and as such has been scoured by suited-divers in the search for the law-breakers. The search even extended to the outskirts of the city and the brusque blocks of sewerage plants. Henri Dumont was questioned, his grateful comments towards The Society annoying the authorities, but there was no evidence to convict him. There is no evidence at all.

The latest target is Notre Dame de Piete. Vaulted beneath The Louvre Museum, the recently found-and-famed statue of Jean Goujon was deemed too costly to repair, shunted to the side by paper-pushing officials. Bureaucrats, The Society decided, are too common in today’s cities. Their important titles and offices, built for self-serving smugness in a childish game of politics, had to be fought. Economics shouldn’t run a city; welfare should, with the focus back on the citizen. Cities, The Society decided, are the pinnacle of a civilization, the focus of positive and ingenious creations designed by it’s inhabitants. The pinstripe invasion, it has to be fought.Now the society is on the move, prepared to break into the Louvre for the sake of history. Steel doors await, blocking rusting pipes and close mechanical shafts to the cold. De Piete doesn’t want to be disturbed; its cracking plaster and fading paint peeling in a crate. An arm is missing, and the stones in the headwear sold long ago for bread. It wants to be left alone, but the society won’t let it. The former glory of France will be restored, and the city will return to a place free from constraining purse strings.

The societies of old created them, The Society of today is keeping them.