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Chapter 1: Death Row

The steel door flung open. Two women, both wearing grey uniforms adorned with blue details, walked in. He had never seen that type of uniform before. ‘Probably another one of their redundant, niche departments or bureaus’ he thought to himself. The government sure loved its special agencies. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had an entire department, whose only purpose was to create new departments and agencies, set up somewhere in that damned spire of theirs.

Neither of the women said anything. They stood across the table and stared at him in silence. They were sizing him up, as he was doing with them. After a couple of seconds, they stepped forward, grabbed a pair of chairs, and sat themselves down. He could tell by the look in their eyes that they’d already convinced themselves he was guilty; and he already hated them with a passion in return. Just another pair of dim-witted, talentless citizens with a chip on their shoulders and a deep rooted hatred for slum dwellers such as himself.

The woman who looked most arrogant looked like she was in her seventies. She was tall and slender with a wrinkly, sunken face. She looked like the type who’d go home each night to nag at her husband about how awful her day had been at her, government sponsored, fake job. The younger one of the two was plumb and shorter. She looked less arrogant. There was a hint of insecurity in the way she carried herself. She was still quite young. Early thirties at most. Probably the elder one’s pet protégé. She looked like the type who’d return home each night to an empty house.

The elder one spoke with a raspy voice that tried, and utterly failed, to carry itself with an aura of importance. Judging by the amount of stripes she had on her uniform, she probably carried some fancy title. Something that’d sound important at first glance, but which fell apart upon closer scrutiny. Something like “Special Chief Residents Affairs Detective” at an equally obtuse bureau like “The Justice Department for Non-Citizen Transgressions and Crimes”.

‘Why did you kill him?’

‘There we go’ he thought to himself. ‘Cookie cutter textbook interrogation techniques.’. These women had zero experience outside of what they had been taught in their backwards police academy. It wasn’t that surprising though. Resident on citizen crime was pretty much non-existent within city limits. None of that mattered though. It was all a formality anyways. They’d convict him no matter how flimsy the evidence was. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to be sentenced to execution when his case was sent to trial. As a resident, you were guilty until proven innocent, and there was nobody out there looking for evidence of his innocence. He had no choice but to play along. The last thing you wanted to do with these egotistical incompetents, was to give them the idea you didn’t take them seriously. A citizen scorned could become particularly vengeful and cruel.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t have anything to do with no murder.’

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

‘Save me the lies, resident. You killed a class four citizen. Shot him straight through the back of his head with an unsanctioned laser pistol. Then you tried to flee the scene, but we caught you.’

He had great difficulty suppressing his laughter. They really hadn’t sent Saltpetersburg’s finest to interrogate him. That dumb broad was freely sharing details that only the killer would know. A great way to muddy the waters for any accidental confession and a sure way to sabotage your case in a fair trial. Only there would be no fair trial of course.

‘I wasn’t fleeing anything. I just happened to be in the vicinity, trying to catch the last metro heading outside the wall. Having to walk through eight kilometers of slums at night time isn’t fun, you know.’

‘No, I wouldn’t know.’. She said her words with emphasis. It was obvious that she wanted to make it very clear that she, as a citizen, did not venture outside of the walls, into the slums. ‘Besides..’ she huffed ‘what right does a resident like you have to wander around our beautiful streets? How did you get past the guards?’

He knew it was dumb, but he couldn’t help but snap at her. This stupid woman clearly hadn’t even bothered to read through his file. This whole interrogation was a farce which only served to make her look important in the eyes of fellow citizens. ‘You should be grateful I walk your streets. Eighteen years of having a class three work permit. Eighteen years of keeping this damned city’s utilities running. I’m the best electrical engineer you ingrates have. Without me you’d be wandering through pitch black nights. You’d be up to your knees, covered in shit, begging for clean drinking water.’

The younger woman looked horrified and turned her eyes towards her superior. She awaited how the older woman would respond to such an insult. It was obvious to him now that the younger was most definitely an equally incompetent pet project for the older one. Probably competent only at brown nosing her superiors in exchange for a fast track career of cushy government jobs.

The older woman turned red and yelled at him. ‘How dare you talk to me like that!?! You filthy slum rat. I’ll have you hung for this, you piece of scum.’ She turned her head towards the younger woman. ‘We’re leaving Alinaire. We’ve got what we need. A clear confession of his hatred for our beautiful city and its citizens. This ungrateful slum dweller committed the murder as an act of vengeance on us. To think someone would do such a thing after we magnanimously granted him the opportunity to work in our beloved city..’

‘Ha… Hahaha’ He really couldn't control his laughter anymore after her remarks. ‘I maintain the core engines which keep this city running. I could sabotage them whenever I want and take half this damned city with me. I can guarantee you, missy, that if I wanted revenge, it would be something much more grandiose than committing the petty murder of some useless fourth grader.’

The women didn’t reply to his retort. They were already halfway out of the room by the time he finished talking. He could tell by their haste, that they took great pride and joy in being the ones who’d get to present his case to the prosecutor. It didn’t matter anymore though. The outcome of his trial was set anyhow. He wasn’t long for this world now…

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