City With No Name, page 3
“Floor please.” asked the elevator’s computer as it sensed Theta’s presence.
“Fifth.” he answered back sharply.
Even if he hadn’t known which room he was supposed to clean that night the Interpreter who executed the job made it painfully obvious. 5F greeted him with a nude woman lying in the entryway, followed shortly by a nude man six feet or so inside the living quarters. Theta sighed, put on his rubber gloves, and dragged the woman by her arm back into the apartment, closing the door when her body finally cleared the threshold.
He observed the two bodies lying head to head on the floor and thought to himself with mix of disappointment and buried sorrow, ‘What did you two do?’
“Computer.” he said aloud. “Open maintenance panel, authorization Theta.”
“Voice print confirmed, panel access granted.”
A soft whir came from the kitchenette as one of the wall tiles slid open to reveal the apartment’s maintenance panel. It was adorned with two small buttons, one green, one red, and a port for data access. Theta walked over to the panel and pushed the red button. In front of the trash cabinet, the kitchen floor began to rise in a two-foot block. Theta removed the floor panel and shifted it out of the way.
He glanced down at his watch, still plenty of time, and then made his way towards the bed and living area. ‘Now’, he thought to himself, ‘for the search.’
The room was to be sanitized for the next occupant. With every cleaning job, the assigned Cleaner had to make sure that any unauthorized material was disposed of so as to avoid any suspicions on the part of the new tenant. Suspicions slowed a worker down and the inefficiency would not be tolerated. It was ingrained within Theta and every other Cleaner that it was in everyone’s best interest to find and remove any such material as any inefficiency caused by his or her lack of diligence was sure to be punished harshly.
He lifted the mattress from the frame that was built into the floor and found nothing, it was the usual spot to hide notes or other small contraband, then he fruitlessly rummaged through the drawers built into the frame of the bed. The clothes next to the bed struck him as odd, an extra seam patched into one of the sets of rags stood out now that they were inside out. He picked up the clothing and stuck his finger down into the makeshift pocket. In it was a piece of paper he normally would have tossed into the incineration chute, but the care that was taken to have it on the citizen’s person at all times allowed his curiosity get the best of him.
This cold place may hold my body,
But in your heart, I am warmed.
Your smile moves me through each day,
To be by your side one more night.
Theta stared at the note, reading and re-reading it for what felt to him like eons. His watch chirped a fifteen-minute warning and in his rush, he stuffed the note into his work pants. Quickly he gathered up the clothing and sheets to be incinerated then dragged the bodies over to the hole. He looked over each one more time and thought to himself, ‘I hope you’re in a better place you poor bastards.’ before finally sending them tumbling down the chute. The soot-like smell of the already burning sheets and trash began to rise into the apartment as he replaced the cover on the chute.
On the control panel, he hit the green button, then stated, “Computer, close maintenance panel, cleansing complete.”
When Theta checked on 5A he found that, as he suspected, the male had already moved his belongings out. He did a cursory investigation, tossed the bed sheets and towels, then grabbed his supplies and made his way back home.
At home, after removing his work clothing and putting away the day’s supplies, he sat at his small kitchen table only feet from the front door and his bed and stared at the scrap of paper from the apartment. ‘I never should have taken this,’ he thought ‘what if someone finds it?’ Before he could ponder the note any further, his beeper buzzed along the tabletop catching him by surprise. The tiny LEDs lit up scrawling a message across the beeper’s face, “Sector 8H, organic clean up required.”
Theta acknowledged the message with a sigh and pressed the beeper’s green button to silence it. He pulled his duffle bag out once more and prepared it for the next day’s work.
Before taking another round of napping, he decided to fulfill his daily hydration requirement. He took his makeshift mug and attached its carbon filter before filling it at the dispenser. Theta swore it made the solution taste crisp and at least somewhat refreshing. The idea had occurred to him after cleaning up after a citizen who had filtered their solution in a similar manner. He didn’t know exactly how it worked but he was thankful that it made the solution drinkable.
After a few hours of tossing and turning his watch beeped once again to let him know it was almost time for his second shift. Groggily he checked his duffle bag, grabbed the note from the table, and stepped out into the city one last time.
“4:00 O’clock” echoed through the streets as he made his way to 8H.
He double checked with the computer and was reminded that the apartment was on the seventh floor, room 7C. As he approached the door he was glad to find that this time the Interpreter was nice enough to do the job inside the apartment instead of the entryway.
Upon entering the living quarters, he found a pale brunette woman lying in her bed, needle mark on her neck, with no signs of conflict on either the bed or anywhere else in the apartment. ‘Damn,’ he thought ‘this was one clean job.’
Instead of opening the panel first this time, he rifled through the woman’s storage and tried to find any hint of contraband so he could gather it up in one go. There was nothing to be found in her bed, in the nightstand, or in her clothing. ‘I don’t know what you did, but it must have pissed somebody off.’
He piled the woman’s belongings in the kitchen and walked back over to the body on the bed. As he began to tug on her legs he noticed that her body was warmer than what he was used to dealing with. Theta slowly let his fingers trail along the skin up her legs checking the temperature of it as he went, it felt… alive. Just as he began to release his grip on her, she opened her eyes. Before she could let out a gasp, Theta covered her mouth with his hand.
“Shhh,” he whispered with a finger to his mouth, “they’re watching.” He motioned slightly with his finger towards the rest of the room. The woman’s eyes darted around looking for other people but found no one, the expression on her face grew from worry to fright and tears began to stream down along the sides of her face.
“No, no, don’t-” he caught himself speaking above a whisper then settled down, “don’t cry, I’m here to help. You’re supposed to be dead.” Her brows furrowed but her eyes let go of the remaining tears.
Theta moved in closer to her ear and began to whisper again. “I clean up after the Interpreters. One came here but something must have gone wrong.” She still looked pensive.
“If I lift my hand will you be quiet?” The woman nodded in agreement.
Theta lifted his hand slowly; the woman took a gasping breath but stopped short of screaming. Theta began to back away, his eyes begging her to stay silent. She continued to lie on the bed and watched as he crossed the room to the kitchen.
“Computer, open maintenance panel, authorization Theta.”
“Voice print confirmed, panel access granted.”
Theta escaped the woman’s vision for a moment as he went to grab supplies from his duffle bag. After a moment of searching, he found the item he was looking for, a spare 9-Volt battery. He then took some wire out of his maintenance kit, twirled it around the terminals of the battery, and then palmed it out of view from any monitors that may have been in the room.
Theta feigned trouble with the buttons on the control panel and held his hand up to the data port. As the wires grazed the metal inside the port and closed the circuit a quick pop came from the socket followed by the smell of smoke. He pulled the battery away from the terminal as it began to heat up in his hand, then pocketed it.
“Computer,” he stated exasperated, “can you open the hatch manually, this panel is not functioning.”
“Negative Cleaner Theta, the connection between the panel and the hatch is faulty. No communication can be passed through.”
“Then I need to move this body down to the incinerator myself. Can you call an elevator for me?”
“Summoning a lift now.”
Theta rushed over to the woman and whispered in her ear again “Trust me. I’m going to get you out of here.” Though truthfully he had no idea what he was going to do after taking her down to the sub-basement. Theta had hoped an idea would crop up on the trip down. “I’m going to carry you now. Try to... well, try to act dead.” And with that he picked the woman up and held her between his arms, she slowly went limp after the initial excitement of being picked up wore off.
The elevator was waiting for him in the lobby. He laid the woman down as safely as he could and told the computer they needed to go to the sub-basement.
The sub-basement was even more poorly lit than his basement abode. The hall stank of old must and a fine film of dust covered the floor. Theta carried the woman down to the end of the hallway where the hatch to the incinerator was located.
“Ok,” he said above a whisper “I’ve never really seen any cameras or hall monitors down here, we should be safe.” He let her down onto her feet.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice a mix of worry and confusion.
Theta looked blankly at her for a moment, just now noticing the little stripes of red gleaming through her brown hair, and in that moment he thought to himself that of all the bodies he’d seen he had never looked at a woman with any thread of emotional attachment. But in that dusty dank sub-basement the woman’s face appeared beautiful beyond measure to him. To him, she wore her pale mal-nourished skin and pained expression like a work of art.
“I, I don’t know.” Much to his disappointment, but not surprise, no ideas had come to him in the elevator ride down.
“You said I’m supposed to be dead?” Her brows furrowed even further and her voice trailed off as she spoke.
“Yes. I’m the Cleaner for this sector, whenever the Interpreters come through and correct inefficiencies I’m sent in for the organic clean up.” He paused for a moment and looked for the needle mark on her neck. “See, look.” He gently placed a finger against the hole causing the woman to wince.
She then ran a finger across the mark herself, wincing a little less this time as the surprise wore off.
They both stood in silence for a moment, then Theta continued. “What’s your name? I’m Theta.”
“My ID is GX-Twelve but,” she paused “I call myself Gix.”
Theta did his best not to look at her funny, “Gix huh? That’s, um, well that’s an interesting one.”
Gix looked slightly embarrassed for a moment, “Seemed natural at the time.”
Theta smiled at her. “It’s creative at least. Better than what they gave you.” He looked above them out to the city imagining the AI looming over them for a moment and rolled his eyes.
Gix let out a hesitant chuckle “That’s true.”
Again, the two stood in silence. Theta deliberated what options he had, how he could hide her in the basement, sneak her out when the time was right. ‘Wishful thinking’, he thought.
A third rough voice broke into the old air and shattered their silence.
“Did you two really think no one would notice what was going on here?”
Gix let out a yelp as Theta grabbed her and placed himself in front of her. From the darkness of the hallway, a figure with dark red lenses for eyes began to walk towards them. Theta knelt down and reached for a loose pipe. His heart pounded rapidly and relentlessly, almost trying to burst from his chest. He did his best to remain as calm as possible on the exterior. Before he could get a handle on the pipe, the figure took another step forward and spoke again nonchalantly.
“Really? The panel just happened to short out when you arrived on the scene? And since when do you whisper to the dead?” The voice came across muffled but authoritative.
No one answered; Theta could hear Gix begin to whimper.
The figure noticed Theta’s hand and blurted out a command. “Leave that pipe alone! I could have ended you already but I haven’t yet have I? Get up.”
Theta contemplated how effective he could be if he grabbed the pipe and attacked the figure at full speed. Given that the figure bested them already, Theta recognized his chances were slim. Then, just as he was about to do as he was told, a hot feeling of determination mixed with adrenaline rose up inside of him. The heat flowed over his skin and his hairs stood on end, he had never felt anything like it before. He grabbed the pipe. There was nothing left for him to lose.
Theta burst up from his crouch and charged at the figure in the shadows. With both hands he raised the pipe over his head and in one quick motion he brought the pipe down on the figure, but where he expected to meet solid mass he met air. He lost his balance and began to stumble forward. The figure spun to the side of Theta, grabbed his shoulder and shifted a foot underneath him knocking Theta off his feet and planting him squarely on the ground. Theta dropped the pipe as he fell; the clang of metal on concrete pierced his eardrums.
Gix let out a stifled scream as the exchange occurred in front of her. She pushed herself against the wall and covered her mouth instinctively.
“What did I tell you?” The figure spoke calmly, his breathing almost synthetic as if it were being amplified by something. Theta could hear the crease of leather as the figure knelt down next to him. “Now come on, get up.” A leather-gloved hand came out of the shadows to help Theta to his feet. As he righted himself he took a few steps back to Gix.
“Who are you?” he asked the stranger.
The figure stepped out of the shadows and removed his gas mask revealing a grizzled looking man with a full black beard and dirty face.
“I, am Brother Michael.”
His outfit was a stark contrast to the gray clothing Gix and Theta were used to. A full dark brown leather duster, worn and scuffed with age, was draped along his sides paired with a bulky black undershirt, worn black jeans, and dark brown leather armor on his legs and upper body. Dust caked the crevices in the leather.
“Brother Michael?” Gix looked confused as she scanned his clothing. “That’s not any ID I’ve ever heard.”
“That’s right, that’s because I’m not one of you.” He paused expecting some sort of retort but when none came he continued. “I’m a member of the Brotherhood. We don’t live in the city. There are a few of us who infiltrate the city’s borders and monitor the AI. I’ve been keeping tabs on you from the moment you shorted out the panel up there.” His eyes looked up to the ceiling and back to Theta.
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “the Interpreters also know what’s going on and they’ve been keeping tabs on you two as well.”
Theta interrupted the man “But the Interpreters won’t be out again until tomorrow night. We still have some time.”
“I’m sorry but that isn’t the case.” Michael answered. “There is one on his way now. One not bound by the same rules as the others.”
“How do you know that?” Gix asked.
“This mask.” He held it up as he spoke “I can see the priority communications as they’re sent out. He always shows up as Omega when he is dispatched by the Twins. We’ve had our fair share of incursions.”
“Given all of that,” Theta interjected, “How are we going to get out of here?”
Michael compressed his lips as he thought about what to say. “Here is the problem. I can only take one of you. I think you know who Theta.”
Theta looked dejected for a moment and then asked “Why?”
“I move around the underground in a very specific way, I’ve only ever been able to have one companion with me for the trip. If I add any more the risk becomes too great.”
“I see.” was all that Theta could say.
“Gix, come here for a moment.” Michael motioned her over to himself and pulled a small handheld device out of his duster. As she approached, he warned her, “this may pinch a little.”
He switched the device on and moved it along Gix’s torso, as it reached the left side of her hip she began to wince and tense up in pain. Michael held the device in place for a moment until there was an audible pop accompanied by a stabbing pain. Gix grabbed the spot involuntarily and yelped.
“What was that for?” she exclaimed.
“Every one of you is tagged with a little radio ID chip. The machines randomize where they inject them at birth so no one will catch on. Not even the personnel working in the hatcheries. With that chip, they can track your movements. We found that out the hard way decades ago.”
