From: Mike Scanlon <REVOLUTION@delphi.com>
Subject: The Alley
Date: Sat, 25 DEC 93 15:55:41 EST
Lines: 67


        The dim glimmer of the holographix above the Hitachi building
shimmered against the metal dumpster that was one of the walls forming this
forgotten alleyway.  The air wreaked of the radiation one might smell by
leaning his nose so close to a terminal monitor that it tingled with the
cackling energy.   There was no wind, and the very atmosphere had gone
catatonic, as if it had uncovered some truth that had left it frozen in
horror.
        How long ago had I phased in?  Seconds washed into minutes as I looked
into the boy's huge eyes, covered with a glossy film of innocent grief.  In
his shaking arms he held the hand of a pale skinned whore, blue derms burned
into her upper arms, mouth frozen in the deathly grin of addiction.  She was
unconscious in a pool of her own bloody vomit, her stomach plump with another
unborn child.  Would it be left to the hell this boy endured, or would it
be spared by a pimp's abortion derm?  Which scenario would be more appealing?
        "Where's my derms?"
        The alley darkened, only to lighten again in the glow of the stray
light streaming from an apartment window.  K-7 read two life forms inside, a
man and a woman.
        "Why?  Can't you stand it?  Five minutes without a derm?"
        Increasingly high levels of toxins in his blood told me he probably
couldn't.  But such is the price of addiction.
        "Bitch, where'd you hide them?"  his voice was softer now, with a
scheming tone in it.  His shadow moved against the metal sheets, growing
insanely large now, as he moved in front of the light.
        "I don't like you when you're on them.  You lie.  You hurt.  You're
not yourself!"
        "Where are they!"
        A black arm swung out across the reflection on the wall, now moving
outside of it, striking something solid, and now not so solid.
        Shattering glass littered the alley.  Mutated rats ran for the darker
shadows.  Blood dripped down the aluminum wall, staining patches of the light
reflection a wet red.  The limp body of the beaten woman was heaved with such
drug crazed force that it was thrown against the dumpster at the end of the
alley, oozing down until it came to rest in the pool of pink vomit, startling
the boy from his semiconscious state.
        Suddenly, fingers were wrapping around my neck, nails scratching as
if all ten of them were seperate entities, each seeking to satisfy an infinite
need.  An infinite need for the demons of society.
        Before they could do any damage, the claws lost all their strength,
and I spun to look into the eyes of that demon, eyes glossed over with the
glaze of the toxins raging through his sytem.
        "Where's my derms?"
        His limp body fell forward, head smacking against the wall with a
mettalic grating noise, more blood spurting over the wall, dripping down to
the alley floor, a pool forming around me, up to my knees, up to my nipples
now, as I ran, then swam for the end of the alley.  It was up to my neck by
the time I was able to dive out onto the sidewalk, passerby walking a wide
circle around me, muttering "Damn those derm freaks, can't they just stay in
the alleys?"  I wanted to jump up, scream at them "Don't you know you're just
as much of the problem?  Give them some sympathy!"  But then I slumped again
to the ground, knowing they didn't deserve any sympathy.
        I gradually rose up, dragging my body up off the ground, and dragging
my mind up out of the hell I saw around me.  The dawn was just beginning to
rise, up out of the neon non-night of the sprawl.  The sky was a dull red,
like the microsofts protruding from the head of a street technology dealer.
        "Look at these!  All Hitachi holo projectors, latest in..."  But his
words were lost in my gray matter, as I focused on the face prophesying on
one of the news channels portrayed on the table.
        "We'll wipe the streets clean!  The derm war is going to hit he
streets.  Elect McCloughin, and say no to derms!"
        He was a thieving false hope in a world that was in a desperate need
of something real.  He was a true politician.  Grief swept through me like the
tide of some VR ocean macro system, a thousand derm addicts mug shots
emblazened on my psyche.  Every when I phased in, the same disgusting truths,
the same disgusting lies. It made you wonder.
        Was it ever really going to get better?