From: enters@.nijenrode.nl (Robert Enters) Subject: The Angel Date: 5 Sep 1995 16:35:54 GMT After having taken a leak, Nightshade walked back into the bar proper. After having retaken posession of a barstool, he groped around in the various inner pockets of his long-coat, and fished out a small shiny datachip. Scoping around for possible interested parties, Nightshade also pulled out a simple old-fashioned datareader. The greenshaded monochrome screen went on with an audible crackle, and words began to scroll on the small monitor. To anyone interested, Nightshade spoke. "Snatched this just last nite. Any takers?" The file starts: Morning. Morning started at 5 in the morning. That is when the Metroplex Embellishment Corp enforcers begin the arduous task of clearing the streets of the Refu's and refuse, so that the city will appear a clean wholesome entity to all those sararimen who have to trod these concrete channels on their way to their offices, stores and whatnot. It wouldn't do to let those happy taxpaying citizens see the trash and horror that descended upon the streets after the CityLights went off, and most of those happy, and let's not forget _taxpaying_, citizens are nestled in the comfort of their homes, gathered with their happy wives, the kids, Pluto and Garfield, protected by the high walls of their respective burbclaves, watched over by the friendly eyes of camera's, killer-dogs, semi-autonomous hunter-seeker robots and ex-army Civic Protection Corp men and women armed, often quite litterally, to their teeth, paid for by those hard earned tax-credits. But I digress. A team of just such cheery MEC goons was headed my way, and their friendly waving with ShockWave (tm) 'prodding' sticks invited me to get my arse off the pavement and seek another place to starve. With only a minimum use of those sticks (after all, they had only so much battery power availeable per block, as was calculated by some highly knowledgeable clerk in one of the huge glass and steel towers rising from the crete), they managed to clear the street. I shambled off with five of my fellow fate-mates. Other happy- campers of the Crete Paradise. We looked at eachother wearily. Though none of us owned much far as most people or animals are concerned, I would die before giving up my small half-empty bottle of EndoStim pills. Anyway, we were all headed the same way, and none wanted to get too close to the other. The others stink so bad! Some people, very few I might add, wonder where the Refu's and other weirdo's go during the times of daylight. Well, that is very simple. We are allowed to live, as long as we do not blemish the sights of this wonderful Metroplex with our presence in sight. Thus we have to move out of sight. Yes, you guessed it. The old metro tunnnels, large sewers and for the lucky ones, old bomb-shelters from the time when people still feared governments, and there were still idiots in such governments with the power over nuclear weapons. No, I was not lucky. The lucky ones are those who have some connections with the various street-gangs and other semi-organized groups that regulate life in the streets after the last CorpHack has left for the night. To belong to such a group, you must somehow have something of value to them. Like muscles or connections. The rest of the losers were herded to the tunnels and sewers. I entered the old MTR at the station that was once known as Sha-Tin, and being one of the last, I heard the large steel doors close behind us. Wouldn't do to have one of us stumble inadvertantly onto the cheery streets now would it. I still do not know why they keep us alive. They must think it is somehow a humane act or something. But, first things first. People had already started removing the bodies from those who had not made it out last night. The bodies were charted off for Cemetary-Station. Once known as Chai- Wan, the 'end of the line'. You know, you gotta keep up your hygienic standards. It was our morning ritual, a toll of those who had not even made it through the relatively safe hours underground. Most had succumbed from hunger, or simply from the lack of will to live. I succeeded in securing a relatively quiet corner, and squared off with my back against the wall, glaring balefully at anyone trying to encroach upon my personal space. When the mass of people had settled enough that I was satisfied, I popped one of my precious pills, and left this reality for a while. ...... I stood at the top level of a CorpStack, looking out of the glass outer wall. I gazed upon the smaller Stacks around mine, and saw the sinking sun's reddish rays reflect off the wings of the various corporate and private Osprey2050's criss-crossing the sky above the Metroplex. The sun's rays seemed to get redder and redder every year, the effect of still increasing world-wide smog concentrations. I marveled at the majesty of the Metroplex. A decisive victory for humanity over nature. We barely needed Nature anymore. There was nigh nothing anymore not produced more efficiently and cheaper by machinery then could be produced by Nature. The SouthChina sea was graced by large 'swimming' factories parting H2O as well as CO from the water and the air, releasing the oxygen that plants no longer produced in large enough quantities, and processing the rest back into fuels. Large MegaFarms ensured a propensity of foods, enough to feed the world population of 25 billion with ease. Little space on this planet's surface went unused. The world was ours. Completely ours. No more Nature, no more God. All those fables, and the fears put forth by the green movements shown for the lies they were. Mankind CAN flourish without them. You better believe it. Look around you. Suddenly a fragile sound introduced upon my reverie. Behind me the large glassteel doors, matted grey, except for the clear company logo in the middle of the panels, slid open almost soundlessly. As I turned around, I could see the rest of the room. A board-room. Large slowly rotating fans hung from the ceiling. Dimmed spots shone on a shining black lacquered table around which fourteen large, comforteable RealLeather chairs were arranged. An extensive bar tucked away conveniently in one corner, crafted in rare and long illegal woods. My gaze however was captured by the figure standing in the opened doorway. A beautiful asian girl. Long lush black hair, reaching below her ass. Perfect skin, green eyes and westernized eyes. Thinned eyebrows and 50K-cred teeth. Well proportioned, long legs, and a navel-job as was so popular in the last years of the 20th. She wore nothing, but her long hair covered all essentials. Her sight strangely enough gave me a sad feeling. She looked at me with pity. I reached my arms out for her, but she shook her head ever so slightly in negation, and suddenly I was hit alongside my head!... Ouch! Reality kicked in again. The people next to me where fighting over something, and in their struggle, one had kicked me against my head. I was still groggy from leaving the pill induced dream, and slow to react. By the time I was fully aware of my surroundings, it was all over. The victor made a quick grab for the posessions of the loser. Others joined the fray, also wanting a piece of the cake. I was too late to participate. Damn. That's what you get for trying to escape reality. I saw and heard someone shriek with delight over the mastery of a single shoe. Other people were also looking smug with themselves for having enlarged their range of posessions. I decided to abstain fomr taking any more of my precious pills, and pay attention to my surroundings. Nothing much of interest happened, and after a few hours, I dozed off. Clangg! Sharp light, you know, the halogen kind, flashed into the subway. I must have been really tired. Time to leave the Hole again, and be released upon the city streets. Yahoo. Fresh air. Far as air is fresh these days. No starry sky. Those could be seen only from the emerging Moon-Colony nowadays. I wandered with my companions onto the concrete tarmac of the metroplex, the floor from which the Stacks arose to the sky. Babel, phew. Piddly ass little constructs back when. These buidlings truly rose to reach the Gods. The true Gods of this world. The Gods some called MegaCorp-CEO's, whose whims moved mountains and rivers faster than the biblical one ever dreamed of being able to. Anyway, I quickly hobbled over to a street known for it's many restaurants. There was always plenty food in their trash- containers. One could scrape together a true feast there. Could get all your basic foodgroups, and of quality too. Lobster or T-bone steak? All there. Just be faster then the rats, and faster then the rest, and you'd be eating like a king. Off course, I am not one of the fastest, but I nonetheless managed to get some scraps. I wouldn't be gaining any pounds tonite, but then again, I have been on a very stringent diet for quite some time now, and it would be bad form to break such a good habit. Hey, plenty women pay dearly to be as thin as I am. I would gladly switch places with those nitwits. Sigh. Now the scavenger hunt began. People sought to aviod the gangs, and stay alive long enuff to kill someone else for their posessions. Sounds simple? Sure, the theory always is. Learned that in school one grey age ago. I believe this existence gives new meaning to the Law of the Jungle. Trees and wild animals have been replaced with buildings and humans, but the concept retains a stunning clarity. I shuffled away from here as fast as possible, but not fast enough. I heard footsteps running this way, and knew dread. Running always meant trouble. The only ones with the energy left to run are usually the truly desperate or members of the gangs. Fearfully I looked behind me, and tried to dive into what passed as a doorway. A large DuraSteel alcove closing off some corp building's entrance for the night. Not even the amry posessed anything to penetrate those things. Two guys wearing the fluorescent green bandanna's of the TigerClan ran away from a group of seven or so guys wearing shirts with a pulsating cross, the ScreamingAngels, in hot pursuit. One of the ScreamingAngels pulled a gun. One of those old Israeli things called Uzi's. The guy was obviously not yet used to the weapon. As he fired it in the direction of the TigerClan dudes, the weapon bucked wildly, missing it's targets. I however, felt a sudden sting in my chest. I touched my hand to the sore spot, and it came away sticky. Realization dawned slowly. Those shitheads shot me! That goddamn fucking assholish retard of a motherfucker couldn't even shoot straight, and instead killed innocent bystanders! An unreasonable rage took ahold of me, and the burtning adrenalin held back the weakening feeling for a little while. But I was too weak to begin with, and within seconds, a deep chill began to set in my bones. I knew I would not survive, and my mind raged. As little as I liked my existance, I should be able to decide for myself when to go at the very very least! A last lucid thought invaded my mind. I could still try to OD. I grasped hurriedly and desperately for the small bottle, my fumbling fingers almost dropping it. The lid came off, and I swallowed the contents whole... I again stood in the board-room, gazing over the concrete kingdom. In anticipation I turned to face the door, and soon I was rewarded. The doors slid open, and the asian girl was there again. This time it was she who opened her arms, nodding for me to come to her. I marveled at her physique once more, and headed for her warm embrace, only realizing belatedly that she had soft feathery wings spreading from between her shoulder-blades...... \/\/-> Comments/Criticisms/Etc welcome, here or by priv email. Useless flames with no constructive ideas for improvement are not sought. Nightshade a.k.a. Whisper -- ____ ____ The Whisper of the Net is back again, new and improved version \\ |||| // Preferred Address: enters@nijenrode.nl | Devious D.\\S.//I. Alternate Address: whisper@bdp.res.wpi.edu| Sciences \/ Least Liked Addrs: renters@innet.be | International