When Gabriel was just a baby, he and his mother, Jocelyn, lived in Grid 0047, and in this Grid, he had grown accustomed to the leaky roofs and rat infestation of Dakurai Manor apartments.

One morning, when he was 12, Gabriel effortlessly slid down the staircase's railing, his weight nearly pulling down the wall. He wore stained overalls and boots. "I'll see you later, Mom!"

Popping her head out of the kitchen, Jocelyn said, "Wait! What are we forgetting?"

Jocelyn was a woman in her mid 40s, with short brown hair and warmth in her speech. She wore ragged clothes a size bigger to hide the weight she gained over the years.

Gabriel ran up to her, taking a brown paper bag; Jocelyn had made his lunch (a turkey sandwich and sliced apples). "Thanks!" he said.

"Uh-uh!" Jocelyn said, stopping him. "What do you think you're doing? Where's my hug?"

Gabriel jumped in her arms for a quick embrace.

"Okay, Mom!" Gabriel said, breaking free. "I got to go! I'm going to be late!"

"Love you!" Jocelyn blurted just as Gabriel shut the door.

*****E V*****

In days past, a 12-year-old would've been going to school. That was a different time. Like others his age, Gabriel had a full time job.

The streets were filled with rusted cars, artifacts still frozen in what was once a traffic jam. Gabriel took shortcuts into abandoned neighborhoods to avoid Peacemakers.

Peacemakers were robots built during the last interplanetary war. Now, they were reprogrammed to keep Grids safe. They were tall, slender with swords locked behind their torsos. They were preprogrammed with many types of greetings. Marketing research claimed that citizens would be more accepting of robots that sounded human. However, their synthesized voices and choppy words made Gabriel feel awkward, so he avoided them at any cost.

Having arrived at the junkyard, Gabriel scanned his ID badge to clock in. Kids were already busy at work. Most of the child employees were between 12-17 years old.

The employees coordinated in teams of four, stripping wrecked cars for parts to be sold. Gabriel's team always talked about an assortment of topics kids his age were interested in, but one topic was brought up constantly: Eon Viants. From "they're kind of cool" to "my mom said if I ever see one, I should call for help," to "well, my dad said if I ever see one, I should shoot them," Gabriel heard many opinions. Day in, day out, those words went in one of his ears. Day in, day out, they never went out the other. To survive, he had to keep his heritage a secret.

*****E V*****

During lunch break, Gabriel joined a small group to play a forgotten card game called Slapjack. He always lost. It wasn't because he was bad at the game. On the contrary, he could have beaten them several times, but Jocelyn recommended letting them win. Gabriel was reluctant at first, but eventually he realized how it helped him avoid feeling superior to humans. When he could single-handedly flip over a car, something every child employee there couldn't do even if they worked together, it was very easy to feel superior.

Ari had strolled into work at noon. He was a lanky 17 year-old with frizzled brown hair and a pierced lip. One day, after Mr. Taylor learned that he intimidated some of the smaller kids into doing his work, he was promoted. Mr. Taylor said that he had "the traits of a leader."

Ari got everyone's attention with a manikin hanging over his shoulders. "Mr. Taylor asked me to improve our culture, y'know whatever that means. So, I brought us a punching bag. Anytime somebody leaves the break room, you got to hit Pittman at least once.

Ari named the manikin after an Eon Viant who was targeted for pretending to be a fancy businessman named Pittman. His body was eventually found washed up on a shore. Ari had dressed the manikin in a similar torn suit jacket and pants.

The group of young employees found joy in boxing the manikin.

"C'mon, little man!" Ari said to Gabriel. "You're up!"

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Gabriel reluctantly gave the manikin a quick and pitiful pop on the head. Something just felt wrong.

"Wow!" Ari said. "You suck."

A girl barged in, slamming open the door. "Execution!" she said.

*****E V*****

All of the kids abandoned their tasks and fled from the junkyard, with Mr. Taylor chasing after them before losing breath. The overweight 50-year-old wore silk shirts worth more than Gabriel's apartment and $3,000 suede shoes.

In-between catching his breath, Mr. Taylor said, "You better get back in 11 minutes and 35 seconds! That's when your break is over! If you don't, you're all fired!"

In the middle of a greeting, sometimes Peacemakers would randomly apprehend citizens. It was a system error that was never fixed.

One Peacemaker crawled like a spider, dragging a senior citizen by his leg. Sometimes victims would die from head trauma on the way to a damaged stadium. If they were still conscious by the time they arrived, they were too exhausted to plead for their lives.

Clusters of eager citizens filled the bleachers. Their clothes were old and littered with holes. Being poor or homeless was just the way of life. Seeing an execution made all of their problems go away.

In the middle of the field, the Peacemaker secured the citizen to chains. The senior was dazed, trying to form words. He was choking on his own blood.

As Gabriel watched, his heart cried out. It didn't take long for the robot's blade to come down over the senior citizen's neck. The crowd erupted in applause, but Gabriel just sat there, relieved that the man's pain ended.

*****E V*****

After his 11-hour shift ended, Gabriel approached Mr. Taylor for the day's wages: $19.85. Most companies boasted that it was fair and very competitive pay.

"Good work today, Gabriel!" Mr. Taylor said. "Couple more years, and you might earn a raise."

"Thank you, sir," Gabriel responded.

Around sunset, right on cue, the streets began to clear out. Gabriel stopped by downtown on the way home. A jewelry store was sandwiched between offices vacated for years. Inside, not a single employee was in sight, and the jewelry display cases were empty. Gabriel went over to the kiosk and scrolled through the selection of jewelry displayed on the screen. It had to be perfect, for the perfect mother.

He found it, a thin diamond necklace, 14k white gold.

The door panel to a service lift opened. Gabriel placed several months' worth of wages on a scale and watched it lower into the shaft.

A minute later, the tray returned, creaking, its motor burning out as it reached the top.

In place of his cash were a jewelry box and her necklace.

Upon exiting the store, a thief ambushed Gabriel, stealing his bicycle and jewelry box.

Even an Eon Viant could be sucker punched if not on guard. Gabriel got up off the ground and desperately pursued, catching up with his unusual speed, and yanking the thief off his bicycle.

Anger burning like fire within, Gabriel placed his palm on the ground. Growing out of the pavement were stalks with blades at the end, barely held together by a thought.

"Give it back to me!" Gabriel commanded.

The thief held out the jewelry box, his hands trembling.

Jocelyn popped up in Gabriel's thoughts, extinguishing the fire in his heart. Because breaking hers was too much to bear.

Reclaiming his bicycle and jewelry box, the young Eon Viant resumed his journey home. Still, he couldn't forget that look of fear in the man's eyes.

*****E V*****

Gabriel barged into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. Jocelyn popped her head out of the kitchen.

"What did I tell you about slamming my door like that?" Jocelyn asked. "I don't want you knocking it off its hinges again."

"Sorry!" Gabriel said.

Setting the table wasn't just a tradition Jocelyn kept from her own childhood. She wanted to instill Gabriel with a sense of responsibility. It was needed to shape a teen with his potential into an upstanding citizen. So, Gabriel set the table.

They ate dinner together every night, even if dinner didn't start until 10 pm. Their usual topics were: Gabriel recalling something he had seen at work or a witnessing a building that collapsed on his way home.

"There was an execution today," Gabriel said.

"Not another one," Jocelyn replied. "I wish they'd fix those machines. They're too dangerous to be roaming around like that."

Jocelyn's eyes normally shifted during uncomfortable topics. Gabriel was quick to change subject.

"Mr. Taylor said that I was doing a great job," Gabriel said. "I think I could do this for the rest of my life."

"I don't want you working in a junkyard all of your life," Jocelyn said.

"But, I'm really good, and it's super easy stuff," Gabriel replied.

"You're capable of so much more," Jocelyn commended. "I want you to grow up, get a good job. Leave the Grids."

Jocelyn had spent most of the day job hunting. Unfortunately, there weren't many opportunities for a woman her age. She dreamt of finding a well-paying job so that she could take Gabriel out of the Grids. She didn't want Gabriel to be another voiceless--a soul having no say in the value of his, or her life.

Gabriel couldn't envision what kind of job he would get. He, like most kids his age, were done with school around. But, if he did leave Grid 0047, he couldn't abandon his mom.

"Well, I guess I could get a house with a bathroom," Gabriel suggested. "And maybe two rooms? And you could visit me whenever you want!"

"Make it three rooms," Jocelyn negotiated. "One for your office, and you got yourself a deal."

The conversation distracted Gabriel long enough that he had forgotten the gift until now.

"I got a surprise for you!" Gabriel said. "Close your eyes! And no peeking!"

Jocelyn reluctantly closed her eyes, and Gabriel eagerly pulled the jewelry box from his pocket and placed it in her palms.

Jocelyn opened one eye first. Then, both. Her confusion was overtaken with surprise. She opened the box.

"Do you like it?" Gabriel asked, worried.

"I love it," Jocelyn assured him. "But, you didn't have to get me anything."

"Yeah, I did," Gabriel said. "It's how I wanted to say thanks for being a great mom."

Her eyes swelling with tears, Jocelyn warmly embraced him.

"You're a good boy, Gabriel," Jocelyn said. "Don't ever change."

"I won't, Mom," Gabriel responded. "I promise."