Gary’s entire life was keenly focused on a twenty-minute stretch. He needed to get to the Ministry Hub in one piece, without stopping for anything, and that was his only job. The Ministry would take care of resigning on his behalf, not that Gonzo would care. They would also pack up all of his stuff, the few clothes, gaming systems, and other sundry items he owned. Everything would be taken care of, as long as he could make it to the hub in one piece as quickly as possible.

In reality, there was probably no need to rush. He had twenty-four hours after all. But everyone had heard the stories of lottery winners that had been stalled by accidents or deliberate sabotage. The lottery rules were iron clad. Any candidate who failed to make it to the nearest Ministry hub within twenty-four hours would forfeit their place and another candidate would be chosen.

Gary remembered the story of the luckiest and unluckiest bastard on the planet, Jimmy [bad luck] Bronson. Jimmy had done the impossible and one the lottery twice. He had likewise done the unthinkable and missed both opportunities. The first one he missed by getting thoroughly inebriated whilst celebrating his victory and failing to turn up on time due to a savage hangover and a bout of explosive diarrhea. The second chance he had missed, not by squandering it with frivolity, but by slipping on a slick stair, cracking his head, and knocking himself out for several hours.

Jimmy had made it to his local Ministry hub just two minutes after the due time, bleeding from a savage head wound and grinning with two missing teeth. It might not have been much consolation for Jimmy, but he’d been made famous because of how far his story spread. He and the other poor souls who never made it on time served as a bitter warning and Gary intended to do everything in his power to make sure his one chance wasn’t taken from him.

That meant no going home, no shower or shave, change, or toilet break. He was still wearing a grease-soaked shirt and cargo pants which he hadn’t washed in six days, to say nothing of the underwear he’d turned inside out to maximize its usability. His underarms reeked, his hair was oily with deep fryer fat and had captured several bugs during his work shift which he hadn’t bothered to dislodge.

None of that mattered as he walked at pace through the city streets, his entire being focused on the singular task ahead of him. He didn’t run, for fear of tripping, and made sure to give other pedestrians and vehicles a wide berth. It was still relatively early in the night, but there would likely be muggers stalking the streets and he had no wish to get caught in an altercation that might delay him in any way.

And, of course, there was that old fear. The possibility that…

Gary put the notion out of his mind and continued on. He stuck to well-lit streets and walkways, walking at a steady, even pace and keeping his eyes locked on the path head. He was hungry, he realized, but there was no way in hell he was going to stop for a bite, not when he was just twenty minutes away from his new life.

Gary had memorized the route to the closest Ministry hubs in the district, fantasizing repeatedly about the day he’d finally get to walk into one of the buildings as a lottery winner. Now that the day was upon him, he felt a growing sense of unease and panic. He wasn’t worried about having his body put into stasis and his consciousness being shot across the stars into a distant world he’d only seen footage of on the heavily censored Artemis feeds. He couldn’t care less about leaving his dead-end job and his crappy, one bedroom apartment.

Only one thing worried him, gnawing at his gut as he picked up his pace a little, convinced that those shadows following from behind looked suspiciously thug like.

He’d been careful, very, very careful. He’d kept his head down, working day and night at the Burger Bin and limiting trips outside of his apartment. He stuck to crowds everywhere he went and made sure to avoid lengthy conversations or relationships with locals. He’d changed his name, let his hair grow long and lank, and laid low since the day he first submitted his lottery entry.

Ten years had also changed his appearance a little. He wasn’t a kid anymore and definitely wasn’t taking care of himself. Gary had a paunch. No, more than that, he had a gut, a swelling donut of fat that kept him warm in winter and made it difficult to buy shirts that fit comfortably. His only exercise was standing all day at the grill and flipping burgers, but that exercise was severely undercut by the fact that ‘soiled’ burgers could be eaten by staff without them having to pay for it.

That fact meant that several deluxe burgers would accidentally find their way onto the floor of the Burger Bin each day. Having touched the floor and thus becoming no longer fit for human consumption, Gary would happily clean up the mess, filling his stomach and ensuring that patrons of the Burger Bin only ever received the best quality, unsoiled, floorless food.

After the first few months, Gary didn’t even bother with the facade. He cooked up whatever burger he felt like for breakfast, lunch, and usually dinner. Despite being a greasy bastard with a Napoleon complex, Gonzo turned a blind eye to the practice, mostly because he had reached an understanding with Gary. Every day, Gary would prepare a certain meal for his manager which included large fries, onion rings, and a deluxe burger with everything on it.

Everything!

Essentially, everyone at the Burger Bin was part of this not so secretive arrangement. It went some way to making up for the abysmal wages they all took home, and their corporate overlords didn’t seem to notice given the money they were raking in each week.

All of this meant that Gary’s physique was a far cry from what it had been all those years ago, when he’d done the deed and taken his one chance at a better life.

He turned to his left, quickly glancing behind him before crossing the street.

Shit!

Did he see what he thought he saw? Two figures in black tracksuits and hoods, stalking behind him.

Not wanting to tip them off, Gary opened up his comms unit and checked the local feeds. The lottery winners were still displayed proudly on the news broadcast and Gary scanned the list of names to confirm whether he was among them.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

There it was, at the bottom of the list.

Gary Astor.

He closed down the display, shaking his head and reasoning that there was still no way they’d know who he was. He’d changed everything about himself. He’d been here for almost ten years, staying off the radar and trying to keep out of trouble. Hell, he was a kid when he took that money, just a pinch over fifteen-years-old, and it’s not like a thousand credits would mean that much to a gang like the Cutters.

He quickened his pace, wondering why on earth he hadn’t brought a knife with him. The kitchen he’d worked in all day was filled with the damned things. He could have just pocketed a blade, and no one would have even noticed. Hell, even a spatula would be something.

Every logical thought in his mind told Gary that there was no way the Cutters remembered him, no chance that they’d found him after all these years. Those weren’t gang thugs following him at an uncomfortably close distance, just a couple of boys out on the town on a Tuesday night, dressed in the distinctive clothes of one of the city’s most notorious street gangs.

He rounded the corner, chancing another look behind. Gary couldn’t tell whether they were still following him. It was too dark and beginning to drizzle. His mind was also spinning too fast for him to focus. He turned and kept walking, forcing himself to breathe deeply and fighting to urge to break into a run.

He climbed a set of stairs, taking them two at a time, and arriving on Main Street.

There it was, in the distance, the dull lights of the Ministry hub building cutting through the dreary night as rain fell from a cloud-choaked sky. Like all government buildings, it made drab into an artform, but the sight of that plain structure filled Gary with hope. At least it would have done if it weren’t for the three figures standing in front of the entrance to the building.

The stood close together, lounging with thuggish ease as the rain grew heavier. They were standing beneath the extended roof of the Ministry building silhouetted against the bright light coming from inside the structure.

One of them was holding something out in front of them. It might have been a gun, a club. Knowing the Cutters, it was more likely a knife.

No time.

He wouldn’t be able to make it to another Ministry hub before the deadline. Or would he?

No. They’d just follow him, and he’d have to lose them in the streets and back alleys of the city. He’d need to lay low for hours while they searched for him, and that was time he couldn’t afford to waste. He was too close to the dream, too close to give up now.

It was this hub or nothing, so he’d have to run the gauntlet to get past those Cutter thugs. There were no rules about entering the Ministry building with a bloody wound and Gary had heard that they had medical AI bots at every hub to facilitate the transfer to stasis. Surely they could stitch him up if he took a blade to the gut on his way through the door?

It wasn’t an appealing prospect, but he was out of options and out of time. Momentum would be the key. The three thugs didn’t look that large but looks could be deceptive. Gary reasoned that if he gathered enough speed he’d be able to weather their attack and hopefully make it through to the foyer of the building in one piece. The rain would help, making Gary harder to grab hold of. Maybe he could slide across the ground. It would ruin his shoes and pants, but soon he’d have no need of them anyway.

Of course, he wasn’t sure whether there would be guards on duty within the Ministry hub and whether they would step in to help a bloody, bedraggled figure that smelled like burger grease and onions. Then there were the thugs following him from behind. He hadn’t seen them since stepping up onto Main Streed, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still there, waiting to close the trap.

Gary ran.

He charged at full pace toward the trio, intending to duck to one side at the last minute and dive toward the building entrance, crawling along the ground if need be to get through that door and into the Ministry hub.

It was only as he closed the distance that light flared in front of one of the thugs. The moment it did so, Gary saw a familiar and deeply puzzling face. The sight was enough to throw him off balance as he tried to slow his running, slipped on the slick ground, and tumbled over his own limbs with bone cracking force.

“Jesus! Gary, are you okay?!”

Hands reached for him, helping him to his feet as pain shot through his right elbow and hip. Blood ran down his arm and there was a bloody graze across his palm. He stood, trying to focus as Jini stood in front of him holding a cupcake with its solitary lit candle to one side as he steadied himself.

“Jini?” he managed.

She smiled.

“Why were you running?” she asked.

He shrugged, noting Gonzo and Luceen standing nearby, the former looking like he was there under duress.

“Well,” Jini said, holding out the cupcake as they huddled together beneath the overhanging roof of the Ministry hub, “Congratulations, you lucky bastard.” She was grinning from ear to ear. “Didn’t have time to get you anything bigger,” she said motioning toward the cupcake, “and I figured you’d be rushing straight here, so…here you go. We wanted to congratulate you before you left.”

Gary stood in a daze, his heartbeat still racing. Jini leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek, moving back and pursing her lips.

“Oh, Gary. You could have at least had a shower.”

Gonzo ran a hand through his hair.

“So, congrats, I guess,” he offered.

“It’s what you always wanted,” Luceen said, moving forward to shake his hand. “Are you excited?”

Gary nodded, taking the cupcake, and absentmindedly blowing out the candle. He turned around, looking for some sign of the thugs that had been following him.

Nothing. Just another dreary night in the city.

“Okay,” Jini said, stepping back, “well, we don’t want to keep you. All the best. Oh, and I’m getting your locker, okay.”

Gary smiled, nodded, and thanked them all for coming.

“Well,” Jini pressed, “go on then. We know you can’t wait to get out of here. It’s all you’ve been talking about for years.”

Gary nodded. It was an odd thing. He’d known Jini for five years, Luceen for three. Gonzo he’d known for eight years. If you’d have asked him yesterday he’d have said he didn’t really have any friends. There were those he regularly played with online, but he only knew them by their handles and the relationship was based around gaming campaigns, loot distribution, and so on.

Standing in front of these three though, he realized that he had made friends in his time at the Burger Bin. He supposed you couldn’t help it.

He opened his mouth to thank them, but the words didn’t come. What the hell was he supposed to say here. If he did well in the game it could be years, decades before he came back. Even if he did poorly, it would be at least a few months and, once he got back to earth, he’d never need to work again, so he wasn’t likely to visit the Burger Bin any time soon.

“You’re such a dork!” Jini said, laughing. “Just go, you don’t need to say anything.”

She motioned toward his hand. “Also, you’re bleeding. Make sure they fix you up before you leave.”

The group turned and walked away, Luceen giving him a final wave as they walked off, realizing that the cupcake was still in his hand Gary started eating, watching Jini and the others walk off into the night.

The taste of stale frosting and bland cake did little to quell his hunger and the nerves he was feeling, but Gary was still grateful for the final meal. It was odd to be feeling a tug of regret on the cusp of his great victory, but as he watched his work mates vanish into the night he had to admit to feeling somewhat conflicted.

Every moment of his life for the past ten years had been spent either gaming online, watching films, or working at that crappy burger joint. He’d left his family long ago, or they’d left him. He’d never gone to college and hadn’t been quite good enough to win any gaming contests of note. Nothing that would pay him well enough to life off anyway.

So, Jini, Luceen and even Gonzo were kind of all he had.

“God that’s depressing,” he said, dropping the candle and the cupcake wrapper to the ground as he turned and entered the Ministry building.