When I was a child, my mother would tell me tales of why we humans are different. She would tell me stories of species not unlike us with powers I could only dream of. She used to amaze me with fantastical stories and fables of knights defending their castles from dragons razing farmland to Wood elves hiding amidst the tree canopies ready to ambush men if they ventured too far into the woods. She would always tell me we won in the end, no matter what advantage they had, no matter how many times they outnumbered humans. In the end, humans would always win.
Sometimes if I was curious enough, I would ask her about the days before the construction of the Barrier, but she would never tell me this after I had been tucked into bed. But I was proud of her when she told me of the day construction had finished in our country and in turn, the final day of construction for the entire Barrier project. Decades later, many humans felt safer when the Barrier was crowned with weapon defences. The sense of safety and security the Barrier emanated from the horrors of inhuman monsters who wanted nothing more than human blood spilt did wonders to put humans at ease and yet, for all the benefits it provided it gave a chance for humanity to focus on finding less noble goals to pursue and for many in my hometown, that meant pursuing a life of crime.
Growing up in our district had its struggles. Mum worked as an office cleaner for the Bureau of Internal Security, the job sucked but it brought in money and put food on the table… mostly take-out food, but at least we weren’t poor or starving or homeless. My father passed away in an industrial accident when I was merely a toddler. I barely remember his face and my older brother, Thomas, was the only one who was able to provide any extra income in the family. The entire Sanctuary Hills district could easily be described as a melting pot of poor infrastructure and gang turf where drugs were peddled out in the open. Despite the apparent low socioeconomic appearance my home had, it was still comforting to know the barrier was just around the corner, looming over us.
Our mother did everything she could to ensure we would not grow up in a life of crime. Thomas was the first to leave when he decided to become a Prosthetist Surgeon and landed a part time apprenticeship in a clinic in the central business district of the city. His first week’s pay was more than the equivalent of two months of mum’s salary. And now at 27 years old he not only runs the most exclusive Prosthetic clinic in the entire city and surrounding area but that of the entire nation of Balko.
Thomas’ fizzy drink had probably gone flat and settled on room temperature halfway through his attempts at trying to encourage me to work for him. I admit that the benefits of “getting the easy tasks, generous income with an even more generous bonus package and my very own parking spot in the busiest part of the city ‘almost’ had me sold. But nepotism just wasn’t my thing. If I were to take this job, I could potentially be taking the bright and sparkly future of someone else who had worked hard to get the interview. When our lunch arrived, it was abundant in smell and the steam could clearly be seen in the clear sunny weather. My lunch, however, I could sense the heat wafting under my chin. I waited for it to settle at a temperature that doesn’t burn the delicate flesh inside my mouth on the first bite.
Thomas looked back up to me to resume his conversation seemingly without acknowledging the presence of his meal. “Look, I know you have reservations about what I do, but it makes people feel happy, makes them feel better about themselves.”
“We should probably eat before our food gets cold.” I said imitating an observation.
Thomas chuckled as he grabbed his knife and fork “I’m sorry,” he said “I got so wrapped up in work I didn’t realise how much time went by.”
We both dug into our meals. The day was great for a lot of things. Going for walks outside, shopping and having outdoor lunches with family. The sky barely had a single cloud in the sky and the quality of the air was crisp, with a lowly wind moaning ever so softly that it barely registered and the ferocious sun brightly announcing its presence. He looked content as he tucked the fabric towel into the collar of his fresh pressed suit.
“Why do you bother doing that? Just wear something more casual that you don’t mind getting sauce on.”
He chuckled as he looked up at me while I cut up my lasagne into small bite sized portions. “For your information, this jacket was made out of Iron spider silk covering over a layer of Rock Dragon scales, it's not just fancy, it's practical.”
“Cool, so you got a fancy bullet proof vest. You know those vests are only like two hundred Escudo’s at any gun shop, right?” I said waving my fork around with a ‘so what’ attitude.
He simply smiled as if there was some hidden unknown fact I had yet to grasp. “Perhaps, but if I am in a gunfight, I am still going to be quite fashionable. Besides, I was given this jacket by a very famous client whose autograph I know you would want.”
I groaned loudly, I was frustrated knowing the tactic Thomas was employing; I told him I was going to sleep on it. Neither one of us spoke while we ate. The noise from the crowd of fellow patrons was loud yet with no distinct sound. The occasional boisterous laugh could be heard from inside the restaurant’s premises, yet nothing humorous was sounded. Thomas’s head shot up and his left eye glowed red as he received a call. “It’s mum” was all he said. “Hey mum, I’m just having some lunch. What’s up?... Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, tell me what happened!” His voice firmed up and Thomas had my full attention. “Yes, Michael is with me. Just tell me what happened?”
“What’s going on?” I asked but Thomas held up his finger to silence me without even looking at me.
“Mum, what’s going on, are you in trouble? Tell me where you are and we can pick you up… Mum, just tell me, I can contact some of my clients and pull some strings and-… Right now?” Thomas looked worried; he checked his watch urgently as he spoke. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell him… Okay, I’ll see you soon.” His eye implant returned to its normal brown green shade as he ended the call.
“Mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I – uhm- I am not sure, mum sounded like she was panicking. She said she has something urgent to tell us back home.”
“Is she okay, is she hurt?”
“Wouldn’t say, just that she will tell us something urgent back home.”
We both stood up from our table of half-eaten food. I always hated seeing food go to waste and even Thomas would always lick his plate clean. We went down the concrete stairs to the parking lot where Thomas’s personalized Nova sports car waited for us. It detected him approaching and automatically opened its gull wing doors and the headlights lit up the wall they faced. Being driven around in my brother’s Nova had always felt luxurious from its perforated leather seats to the genuine oak dashboard and smooth suspension and yet this ride back home was anything but luxurious. Neither one of us spoke the entire trip back but we didn’t need to, our minds were focused on the same thing. We were worried we didn’t know what was going on and mother had to be so damn dramatic about something supposedly serious. Despite driving a car that cost more than the family apartment in a neighbourhood even the police wouldn’t go without assault gear, the locals knew Thomas had never forgotten his roots here and that is why even the local gangs would do the honourable thing and leave our family alone. Which is why he was able to comfortably park his car on the street and made a mad dash for our apartment. With long strides our footfalls muffled through the cheap carpeting and the dilapidated halls of the run down building. Lights flickered in the common areas and paint peeling to reveal the neglected brickwork underneath and the ceiling blotched with a mix of water damage and mould.
Inside our apartment there was no sign of Mother, Thomas and I anxiously waited for her to return. Thomas paced around the living room whilst I sat on the couch unable to keep my legs still. Outside we heard muffled footsteps rapidly approaching through the walls and we both turned to face the front door. Mum shot in and closed the door in one swift motion, she panted and her chest was heavy with sweat.
“Mum, are you okay? What’s going on, why did you call us here?” Thomas said.
“Boys'' she said as she panted heavily. “Pack your bags, we have to leave. Now!” Before she raced past us toward the kitchen and into her bedroom. Thomas and I followed her and we saw her opening up her large travel bag and throwing clothes in it without any organisation. “Mum,” I grabbed her by her arms in the middle of throwing clothes, she was in a state of panic and her whole body shook from adrenaline. “Slow down, tell us what’s going on, why are we leaving?” She sat down on the bed and looked at us. Her breathing was rapid and shallow while her jaw quivered in panic, colour was absent from her once rosy cheeks. “I was cleaning one of the meeting rooms in the Bureau and I saw something I shouldn’t have.'' Her voice shook fiercely as her shallow breaths gave her a stutter, her hands shook so much that the keys in her hand constantly jingled. Thomas knelt down to match her eye level and opened his mouth “Okay, mum, listen to me. I did some work for some very influential people down at the clinic, just tell me everything and I’ll make some calls and any… classified or sensitive material you saw… It’ll be as if nothing happened.”
“No, you don’t get it. What I saw was… It was a satellite image of The Cauldron. There were thousands gathered there and thousands more joining them. The four elf tribes, the dragons, the Centaurs and the Satyrs were gathering there. We have to leave now!”
“Mum, look at me,” I said. The fear in her eyes was unreal. There were times when things got hairy in our neighborhood but never did I see her look so scared. “Look, the Council meets up every ten years, this is nothing new. Perhaps it is nothing, it could be a momentous trade agreement or something for all we know.”
“Michael’s right. Even if they were gathering to attack, what makes you think they’ll attack this section of the barrier? In fact, what makes you think they’ll attack at all? That’s what the barrier is for. AND those plasma cannons on the Barrier aren’t just for show.”
Mother started to calm as her breathing started to slow, her shaking hands continued unfazed but at least she was coming down from a high.
“Mum, listen to me. I’m doing some work on Senator Clarke’s son tomorrow, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll ask him what is going on, okay?”
“What would his son know?”
Thomas whipped his head around to meet my gaze, he did not hide his annoyance as he spoke “Not his son, I’m talking about the senator himself!”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Mum’s breathing returned to a normal pace and Thomas and I helped her put her clothes away. I escorted Mum out of her room and guided her to the living room couch. She sat idly, slowly sipping on her coffee. Her skin was pale and void of her traditional rosy glow. She glanced over to me. “I must’ve given you boys quite a scare. Huh?”
“I admit that not telling us a thing earlier didn’t help. Not to mention we didn’t get a chance to finish our meal.”
She chuckled lightly to herself as she reached over to the coffee table to place her cup. “Where did you boys go for lunch?”
“We went to that fancy place just around the corner from Central Junction; Boseman’s” As I sat down the couch let out a sigh of stress. I looked at mum as colour returned to her face. Thomas looked down at his watch and announced his leave. Just as he walked past Mum she tsk-ed and got up to hug him. “I am going to head back to the clinic.” He placed his hand on my shoulder while looking at me “Think about what I said, alright, I’ll leave the door open for you.”
Thomas gently closed the door.
Mum had sat down where she had before and looked over to me. “You should take him up on his offer.”
I felt the frustration rise up from within. I stood up from the couch “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to have implants of your own. It just means you help your brother install them.”
“Mum, I don’t want to work in Thomas’ clinic. You know my stance on this!”
“I know,” She said. She stood up to meet my gaze. I turned to face her and she had already circumnavigated around the coffee table. “But you need to put aside your beliefs so you can earn a good wage and even make some contacts like your brother.”
“But in the process I’ll be butchering people and removing naturally good parts and replacing them with inferior metal duplicates. How can I live with myself knowing I cut out someone’s eye and replaced it with a porcelain ball with a camera in it? I always thought our bodies are just perfect being flesh and bone, and shouldn't be open for accessorising.”
“Listen, son. After your father passed I had to work hard to support two beautiful boys and that meant taking any job I could find. That meant taking jobs I hated every single minute of, jobs that were boring and repetitive and jobs that went against my personal beliefs. All I can tell you is this; Take the job. Just until you can find something better in the meantime. And if you do, I am sure your brother will give you a good letter of recommendation.”
I looked down solemnly. I knew she meant well and she always did offer advice whenever she could. I felt defeated, lost, confused. It had seemed as though my stance was rendered illegitimate for an argument and yet I could not deny her counter argument nor summon a new counter of my own. I racked my head to find some kind of compromise, a way to accept this offer without the guilt of feeling like a butcher of men. I sighed deeply as my mind grew heavy trying to weigh my decision. Employment had always been scarce in the western side of the Capital, with the crime rate still high, telling a potential employer I was from Sanctuary Hills was the kiss of death for any job application. Especially for clean, high paying jobs in the city center. Mum had walked off into the kitchen setting down the kettle, clicking the power on and Its whistling grew in tune with the bubbling inside the container, mum poured herself some tea and I left for my bedroom. Pulling out the chair from under my desk while I mulled over the last hour’s events. I studied the horizon outside my bedroom window with indifference as I watched many people and gang members walk past my view with the occasional oversized ute driving past. Powering up my computer I logged on to see whether or not any potential employer had returned any of my applications, it came as no surprise when I saw only two in my inbox that were “Thanks for applying, unfortunately you didn’t make it” letters. I grew accustomed to the sight of the negative responses and no more felt any sadness, I let out a sigh and looked back out my window as the sun began setting past the Barrier allowing the lights of the nearby skyscrapers to take the form of perverted stars.
I let out a sigh as I pulled up an old photo on my phone of Thomas and I warmly embracing each other at last year's New Years party. Fond memories flooded back to the forefront of my conscience where the two of us had drinks together and laughed in an uproarious manner. I remembered how Thomas dared me to drink as many shots of some high strength alcohol embedded in chocolate mousse, I remember stopping at twelve before my stomach could no longer handle it. It made me think of those moments that followed after the clock ticked past 12 when everyone declared their new year resolution; Thomas resolved to spend more time at the gym, another party goer said he wanted to settle down, a client of Thomas said he wanted to spend more time with family, and I, I resolved to find meaningful employment.
Perhaps there was no real choice to this, I had no other option. “Alright, I accept.”
------------
Morning came and a new day arose. I had donned the best suit and tie I owned as soon as I woke up. Getting to the Central business district took two separate busses costing me nearly forty escudos and then a commute to a train just to get to the Central transit hub. The main atrium was beyond the train platforms, connecting to the other public transport systems. I walked with long strides to get to the central atrium but it was not long before I was bumped repeatedly on all sides by the commute of other passengers trying to get to their destination faster by any means; which in this situation mostly consisted of everyone losing their decency and consideration for others personal space. The passengers from the trains, not just my own, had lined up to the open turnstile gates with their tickets prepared. Reaching into my pocket I felt the sharp edges of the paper ticket poking into my finger, I proceeded to pull it out and held it firmly in my hand to be ready. The turnstile gates closed in front of me and a prompt on the screen next to me told me to present my ticket. I fed my ticket into the scanner which greedily ate my ticket just to immediately spit it back out and allowed me passage into the transit hub’s atrium. On all sides I saw nothing but cafes and fast food joints filled with commuters and non commuters alike as I looked around. The atrium was sparsely occupied once the commuters had dispersed from the turnstiles and proceeded to wherever they needed to be. On the second floor above me I saw the Mag-Lev platforms and a screen displaying arrival times. I looked down at my ticket with the details finely printed above the barcode; BN-457 to Amaro Park.
Running up the escalator got my heart up as I got to the second floor to check the Mag-Lev timetables. I saw the screen display all Mag-Lev routes, ident numbers and carriage registration. I looked to the side of the screen and pressed the green flashing button that felt tacky to touch to activate the voice command. I pushed aside the thought of why the button felt mildly sticky and focused on the screen. “Display all information on BN-457”
The screen complied with my request and the timetable of all Mag-Lev’s were replaced by a spreadsheet of information pertaining to one in particular.
Route No: BN-457.
5 X Oriana Industries V-Type Magnetic Levitation Rail Carriage.
Weight: 9725 Kilograms (empty)
Length: 15.7 meters.
Rated Velocity: 285 Kilometres
Maximum amount of people held per car: 58
Current location: Beaumond Square.
Next station: Central Transport Station, Platform 3 in 4:37 minutes.
Instinctively I looked toward the clock situated comfortably in the top left of the screen. Adrenaline hit me and my legs bolted forward past the porcelain walls and into the crowded platforms, my heart raced as I pushed past my fellow commuters aside in a maddened dash up a long flight of stone steps connecting to a wide overhead platform with benches for many to rest on. Charging down the steps in a test of agility as I ducked and weaved through the commuters without colliding them, jumping off the steps only four steps off the ground and landed with both feet with a loud thump on the concrete. A man standing next to me on the platform looked at me. His weathered leathery face sported a short greying beard as it twisted into scorn. He adjusted his dull brown flat cap of his head. “Hey, watch it!” he shouted. I looked around the platform as I heard him mumble something, however it was muffled, drowned under the multitude of simultaneous conversations and ringing phones echoing throughout the sheltered platform. Towing the line, I pressed myself against the safety barrier separating the commuters from the open rail. Piercing through the conversations I could sense the humming through the railing and the ground, the intensity gradually increased and the concave track came to life in a flash. Electromagnets popped out of the ground with low pitched humming, in the distance I spotted the Mag-lev fast approaching as if it were not destined to stop, taking two steps back away from the railing the Mag-lev slowed its approach to a complete stop.
Pain grew from standing, my knees and thighs ached from exertion without relaxation, the carriage was packed full with the only available spots being crammed between two people whilst holding onto the rubber handle dangling from the ceiling. I looked out the window to the vast jungle of concrete and glass, the Mag-lev glided through the buildings with grace and elegance. An announcement was made, the voice came partially garbled from the poorly maintained wiring which gave the speaker a lisp. I shoved myself past another two commuters to get closer to the doors. The doors opened up and the desperately needed fresh air hit me hard, passengers spilled out of the Mag-lev and I rushed out of the carriage to breathe air that had not been in another person's lungs. I pulled on my grey business jacket to straighten it out and walked down the crowded platform. Outside the station the serenity of Amaro park’s palm trees and ferns gave the busy city a tranquil refuge. The wooden boardwalk was lined with small dark green grass bushing which felt like nature was about to encroach onto man's domain and reclaim it. Above the plaza in which I walked, I spotted balconies high above crowded with small market stalls and small shops.
I took the elevator and headed upwards of the vertical markets. Each floor I passed was equally full of people and rubbish littered about on the floor. The doors slid open and I stepped out. I walked down the length of the market for a few minutes before I spotted the front door to Tobar’s Aesthetic Enhancement clinic. I breathed deeply, bracing myself before I set foot in this place, I took one step forward and then another and another, there was no turning back now.
Inside Tobar’s clinic was immaculate compared to outside. The walls, a pristine white with illuminated trims on the ceiling giving off a light-bluish glow. The waiting room had immaculate carpeting that cushioned each footfall, the furniture in the room was showing off its high stature with tons of padding and leather for comfort and none showed any signs of being old. One wall held prosthetics and parts in display cases, proudly showing the services and quality of products this place offers.
“Can I help you, do you have an appointment?” A feminine voice spoke from behind.
I turned around to face the speaker, the woman was standing comfortably behind her desk. She wore a smile as if everything was alright, her dark hazel skin glistened under the white light the room was subjected to and her hair was tied up into a bun at the back of her head. “Do you have an appointment?” she repeated.
I looked her over and spotted her name tag pinned on; Receptionist Anna Hendricks. I cursed my memories for forgetting her name, Thomas has to have mentioned her a dozen times before and yet I drew blanks.
“Oh, uh, no. I don’t have an appointment.”
“Okay well, this clinic is by appointment only, we rarely accept walk-ins.” she stated defensively.
“I am here on personal business, my name is Michael; Thomas’s brother. Could you let him know I am here.”
“Of course,” she nodded, “please wait here.”
I watched her walk from her post to a sliding door that opened when she approached it. I turned to face the waiting room again, the entrance door opened wide allowing two people in; a middle aged man with greying hair and a suit fancier than mine. Following him, a young man with a lanky frame stood close to the older man; unlike his companion, the young man wore a black shirt that hung off his body with the album cover art of his favourite metal band: The Red Scythes. His thin body made the shirt look like it was three times larger than him and yet its size wasn’t large by any standards. His pale complexion amplified the dark eyeliner he wore and his greasy hair shone under the light. Judging by how closely the pale man followed I assumed this was another rebellious rich kid having his affection bought by his rich parents. The two sat down right next to each other on the chair before quickly glancing over to my direction. The older man picked up a magazine that had been resting on the coffee table and began reading while his son pressed earphones into his ears and began blaring music loud enough to be heard from across the room. His eyes were closed and he didn’t make an effort to hide the headbanging.
“Sebastian,” the old man said loudly, “Can you not play that garbage so loud!” The old man reached for the cord and tugged it out of his son’s ear. “We told you before, if you don’t turn the volume down you will cause permanent hearing loss and I won’t pay for you to get cochlear implants! You’re making a scene and other people can hear you.” The father looked over toward me with a kind smile, “I’m sorry about that, he just doesn’t know how loud he plays it.”
I heard the door behind me slide open, I turned around to face it and saw Anna exiting, she extended her arm toward the door she came through “He’s waiting in his office.” She said, I entered the office and saw Thomas sitting behind his desk. He threw his hands behind his head and swiveled on his chair to face me.
“Well well well,” He spoke with a wide toothy grin “To what do I owe the pleasure, little brother?”
He removed one hand from supporting his head and indicated the chair in front of me. I sat down and felt so relieved from standing up for so long that I let out a sigh in response to the comfort.
“What can I do for you, bro?”
“I accept your offer. I want to work for you. I don’t have much else and- I Just want to be clear that I’ll do this job just until I find something better.”
“Did mum tell you to say that?”
I didn’t respond, however Thomas chuckled to the silence.
“Look, I get it. I know you got your issues with this industry and that’s fine. When I offered the work to you it wasn’t for some sick joke at your expense, I wanted to look after you since we both know mum is struggling financially and I just don’t want my brother to be another person who goes to a welfare office every month getting handed his basic allowance cheque. I love you, man. I just don’t want to see you end up on the streets working for criminals and make bad decisions.”
Sadness and guilt came to the forefront of my thoughts, I looked down to avoid meeting Thomas’ gaze. “Whether you did or you didn’t take this job at least I can say I tried to help.”
He is right, my only other options in life were crime or walking down to the government office with my hand out asking for taxpayers money just to keep my fed. Crime and unemployment were equally high in our area of the city, not to mention the greater metropolitan area. “If you’re serious about this, Michael. Be here, eight o’clock on Monday. Got it?” Meekly I nodded.
“See ya later.” he said. I stood up and left the way I came. The balcony outside had grown denser as people left their air conditioned offices for fresh air and cheap street food. On the balcony wall I leaned down to the central park, the people were nothing more than black dots. Behind me the sounds of commerce and chatter were muffled yet in front of me the open space was filled with sirens from distant emergency vehicles and the whooshing of VTOL craft. A Police aircraft swept through the buildings, blaring its distinctive siren at its usual disturbingly loud pitch. I kept my eye on it until it ducked behind a building obstructing my view, with that out of the way, I headed toward the elevator. I thought to myself how much I already looked forward to going home after such a lengthy commute just to get here and back.