Away From Here- Chapter 4.
<
.
Chapter 4.
Velma Sunshine.
The Agency is usually empty this time of day, and today is no exception. The hall ways are lined with grimy tiles, surrounding them from all sides as they slide through the labyrinth of simulation rooms and technician offices. The neon lights flicker above them, reflecting against the metal plated doors with their long since worn finishes; their name plates cracked and chipped.
They pass a room labelled ‘Simulator Testing’ and Mara looks towards it, all but pawing at it. Whiz rolls his eyes and drags her forwards.
“No matter how hard you beg them, Mara, they won’t let you see the next level, you know that,” he reminds her, and she really should know; they go through this every time they pass after all.
She pouts at him. “Aw, come on! They might!”
“Trust me, if they won’t let me in with my advanced opticals, they won’t let you and your sweat-stained fingers in,” Whiz says with a rolls of his eyes, still dragging her forwards.
“You’re awfully mean to me, Whiz. I don’t know why I like you so much.” Mara pouts, but allows him to continue to drag her forwards.
“Because I pay for food and simulator time,” he reminds her, breezily, as they turn another corner.
“This is true,” Mara admits, still pouting.
“Also, you love me and you know it.” Whiz grins as they turn one of the last corners.
Mara huffs. “Just because I love you, that does not mean I have to like you.”
“And yet somehow, you do.” He nudges her as they turn the last corner and come face to face with a set of what seem like a set of automatic glass doors framed in grey metal, showing the pretty much deserted lobby beyond. One of the glass sections has a long crack through the glass. Mara grunts something at him as they come to a stop and she disentangles their arms so she can press her thumb to the metal bar that runs across the middle of the glass. The glass flickers and the face of a woman appears on it, a fake, sunny smile plastered across her face. The cracked area runs across the woman's shoulder, the area that should be lit up with the badly chosen neon shades of her ugly, outdated clothing around it coloured black with broken pixels.
“We hope you enjoyed your time here at The Agency Training and Simulator Complex. Please tell us your name so we can log you out successfully.” Her disturbingly cheery voice makes Mara grind her teeth.
“Mara Knight, Runner and-”
“Liam Salvador,” he cuts in, “Honorary Technician and Mara’s Personal Trainer,” he tells he woman, with a smile and she smiles her fake pixilated smile like she can see him as the computer chunters for a moment.
“You have been successfully logged out of the Agency Training and Simulator Complex. We hope to see you again and-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake-” Mara shoves the doors open and the woman shatters into flickering lights as the glass doors split apart, breaking her in half.
“Mara!” Whiz shouts, horrified as Mara strides through the doors. “Do you have any idea how bad that is for the electronics?” Whiz glances back, looking like someone kicked his puppy. “Velma Sunshine might never survive that one.”
Mara snorts loudly and nearly topples over a loose tile as she laughs, bordering on hysteria. She twists around to face Whiz, who glares at her.
“What?” he asks, defensively.
“Nothing. Just...” She collapses into laughter again, bending over to place her hands on her knees and Whiz glares, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What?!”
Mara tries to swallow her laughter as she looks up, brushing a stray tear from her eye. “You named her?!”
Whiz is still glaring. “What's wrong with that?!”
“She’s a computer welcoming program, Whiz!” Mara reminds him, her exasperated tone would be much more effective if she wasn’t still laughing herself sore. “She welcomes people into Agency controlled buildings!”
“Doesn’t mean she can’t have a name!” Whiz replies, defensively.
“I think it does, Whiz,” she laughs, “And really? Velma Sunshine? Seriously? Was there nothing better?” She gives him a disbelieving look.
By this point, Whiz is bright red. “Oh, shut up and leave me alone.” He makes to stomp past her but Mara grabs him around the waist, all but tackling him to the floor and for a second Whiz is awfully glad there’s no one around to see them as she lands bodily on top of him. She moves quickly so she’s straddling his chest and she grins at him as he tries to push her off, putting her weight down on him and stopping his attempts.
“Oh calm down, Whiz. I’m only teasing.” She pats his cheeks, “I find your crushes on computerised tech incredibly adorable.” He makes a face at her and makes to tell that he does not have a crush on computerised objects thank you very much, but she climbs to her feet and offers out a hand. He grabs it reluctantly and she doesn’t let go as they head out down the lobby, swinging their conjoined hands between them.
“Seriously though, Whiz,” she tells him, almost offhandedly, “we need to find you a girl that isn’t made of pixels.”
The Agency is a large grey building, set into the furthest corner on the south side of the city; a shapeless slab of grey concrete and twisting metal structure in the middle of a dock, its back-drop nothing more than the grey sea that goes on for a stretch of miles behind it, the usual black and grey cargo ships carrying goods drift silently along it, only aiding in bringing out the drabness of the poor side of the city. The wind blows a cold chill against them as they step out of the building, the doors whooshing closed and hitting each other with a quiet click.
Mara slings her jacket on as they walk towards an alley across from the Agency.
As they step into the narrow alley- the acrid stench of urine, cigarettes and melting computer chips fill their noses as it clings to their hair and clothing- like sweat would lie; a sticky sheen against their skin.
Mara coughs in disgust, clamping an old scrap of black fabric she generously names her handkerchief from her jean pocket. It doesn’t matter how many times she walks through this alley with Whiz, the stench never gets any easier to handle straight after the clean, if simulated, air,- of an outside world she knows can never exist in this world. She presses the scrap over her nose, breathing in the old fabric. Whiz doesn’t seem bothered by the smell. How he manages it she’ll never know.
They trudge through the sodden streets of the city- with nothing but the wet sound their shoes make in the badly layered ground to remind them of the other’s presence, words seeming unnecessary for the time being. Around them the concreted buildings loom down from overhead. Towering giants of ugly, stained materials that are generously called buildings, all filled with half-broken computer chips and poorly paid workers in ratty monkey suits, all clawing for a job, for money, for computer chips.
Over some low rise buildings ahead of them, rising high above the line of cheap housing estates, the crafted glass panels and chromed exterior of the Central Agency’s Control Centre building towers above them, over the concrete and broken edges of the city, the light from the slightly smoggy sun reflecting across the bars of polished metal that separates the floors until they sink below the low rise estates. It looks like it’s only a step ahead of them, but really it’s far beyond their reach, in every way possible. In reality the Central Agency Control Centre is miles and miles from them, the centrepiece of the city, its pride and joy. It’s where all the money goes, spewed into keeping it up to date and in control of all the other Central Agencies while the poorer side of the city is given nothing more than a passing glance.
Whiz slings an arm around Mara’s shoulders, guiding her away from the wall that she’s slowly drifting into as she stares up at the building above her. She turns and flashes him a brief smile before looking back to the building. Whiz follows her gaze and squeezers her shoulder when he realises what she’s staring at.
“One day, Mar, we’ll get there,” he tells her. “Just you wait.”
Mara chuckles in reply, but there’s no humour in it. “I doubt that, Whiz. We live on the south side, you really think anyone's going to be looking at us?” She sighs and wriggles out of the grip he has around her shoulders, only to grab his hand instead.
“You never know, Mar! There might be someone who’s been checking the scores, someone in the government out there who’s been paying attention to how brilliant you are!”
Mara shakes her head, laughing just a little bit. “I somehow doubt that, Whiz. No one cares about us.” She looks up at the building before her. “They don’t want to give us anything except their disgust.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Mar,” Whiz replies, but she can tell that he doesn’t believe it either, so she just squeezes his hand and pulls them down a secondary alleyway which will eventually lead them into the main street and from there the centre of the city.
“We still going to Ankora’s, right?” she asks, trying to change the subject. It takes Whiz a moment to realise what she’s talking about, but when he does he laughs and nods.
“I promised didn’t I?” he says and she grins and nods, tugging on him as they go through the alley at a speed that Whiz really isn’t comfortable with, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just allowing her to drag him along, rolling his eyes and smiling as she does.
Next Chapter>>
.
Chapter 4.
Velma Sunshine.
The Agency is usually empty this time of day, and today is no exception. The hall ways are lined with grimy tiles, surrounding them from all sides as they slide through the labyrinth of simulation rooms and technician offices. The neon lights flicker above them, reflecting against the metal plated doors with their long since worn finishes; their name plates cracked and chipped.
They pass a room labelled ‘Simulator Testing’ and Mara looks towards it, all but pawing at it. Whiz rolls his eyes and drags her forwards.
“No matter how hard you beg them, Mara, they won’t let you see the next level, you know that,” he reminds her, and she really should know; they go through this every time they pass after all.
She pouts at him. “Aw, come on! They might!”
“Trust me, if they won’t let me in with my advanced opticals, they won’t let you and your sweat-stained fingers in,” Whiz says with a rolls of his eyes, still dragging her forwards.
“You’re awfully mean to me, Whiz. I don’t know why I like you so much.” Mara pouts, but allows him to continue to drag her forwards.
“Because I pay for food and simulator time,” he reminds her, breezily, as they turn another corner.
“This is true,” Mara admits, still pouting.
“Also, you love me and you know it.” Whiz grins as they turn one of the last corners.
Mara huffs. “Just because I love you, that does not mean I have to like you.”
“And yet somehow, you do.” He nudges her as they turn the last corner and come face to face with a set of what seem like a set of automatic glass doors framed in grey metal, showing the pretty much deserted lobby beyond. One of the glass sections has a long crack through the glass. Mara grunts something at him as they come to a stop and she disentangles their arms so she can press her thumb to the metal bar that runs across the middle of the glass. The glass flickers and the face of a woman appears on it, a fake, sunny smile plastered across her face. The cracked area runs across the woman's shoulder, the area that should be lit up with the badly chosen neon shades of her ugly, outdated clothing around it coloured black with broken pixels.
“We hope you enjoyed your time here at The Agency Training and Simulator Complex. Please tell us your name so we can log you out successfully.” Her disturbingly cheery voice makes Mara grind her teeth.
“Mara Knight, Runner and-”
“Liam Salvador,” he cuts in, “Honorary Technician and Mara’s Personal Trainer,” he tells he woman, with a smile and she smiles her fake pixilated smile like she can see him as the computer chunters for a moment.
“You have been successfully logged out of the Agency Training and Simulator Complex. We hope to see you again and-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake-” Mara shoves the doors open and the woman shatters into flickering lights as the glass doors split apart, breaking her in half.
“Mara!” Whiz shouts, horrified as Mara strides through the doors. “Do you have any idea how bad that is for the electronics?” Whiz glances back, looking like someone kicked his puppy. “Velma Sunshine might never survive that one.”
Mara snorts loudly and nearly topples over a loose tile as she laughs, bordering on hysteria. She twists around to face Whiz, who glares at her.
“What?” he asks, defensively.
“Nothing. Just...” She collapses into laughter again, bending over to place her hands on her knees and Whiz glares, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What?!”
Mara tries to swallow her laughter as she looks up, brushing a stray tear from her eye. “You named her?!”
Whiz is still glaring. “What's wrong with that?!”
“She’s a computer welcoming program, Whiz!” Mara reminds him, her exasperated tone would be much more effective if she wasn’t still laughing herself sore. “She welcomes people into Agency controlled buildings!”
“Doesn’t mean she can’t have a name!” Whiz replies, defensively.
“I think it does, Whiz,” she laughs, “And really? Velma Sunshine? Seriously? Was there nothing better?” She gives him a disbelieving look.
By this point, Whiz is bright red. “Oh, shut up and leave me alone.” He makes to stomp past her but Mara grabs him around the waist, all but tackling him to the floor and for a second Whiz is awfully glad there’s no one around to see them as she lands bodily on top of him. She moves quickly so she’s straddling his chest and she grins at him as he tries to push her off, putting her weight down on him and stopping his attempts.
“Oh calm down, Whiz. I’m only teasing.” She pats his cheeks, “I find your crushes on computerised tech incredibly adorable.” He makes a face at her and makes to tell that he does not have a crush on computerised objects thank you very much, but she climbs to her feet and offers out a hand. He grabs it reluctantly and she doesn’t let go as they head out down the lobby, swinging their conjoined hands between them.
“Seriously though, Whiz,” she tells him, almost offhandedly, “we need to find you a girl that isn’t made of pixels.”
The Agency is a large grey building, set into the furthest corner on the south side of the city; a shapeless slab of grey concrete and twisting metal structure in the middle of a dock, its back-drop nothing more than the grey sea that goes on for a stretch of miles behind it, the usual black and grey cargo ships carrying goods drift silently along it, only aiding in bringing out the drabness of the poor side of the city. The wind blows a cold chill against them as they step out of the building, the doors whooshing closed and hitting each other with a quiet click.
Mara slings her jacket on as they walk towards an alley across from the Agency.
As they step into the narrow alley- the acrid stench of urine, cigarettes and melting computer chips fill their noses as it clings to their hair and clothing- like sweat would lie; a sticky sheen against their skin.
Mara coughs in disgust, clamping an old scrap of black fabric she generously names her handkerchief from her jean pocket. It doesn’t matter how many times she walks through this alley with Whiz, the stench never gets any easier to handle straight after the clean, if simulated, air,- of an outside world she knows can never exist in this world. She presses the scrap over her nose, breathing in the old fabric. Whiz doesn’t seem bothered by the smell. How he manages it she’ll never know.
They trudge through the sodden streets of the city- with nothing but the wet sound their shoes make in the badly layered ground to remind them of the other’s presence, words seeming unnecessary for the time being. Around them the concreted buildings loom down from overhead. Towering giants of ugly, stained materials that are generously called buildings, all filled with half-broken computer chips and poorly paid workers in ratty monkey suits, all clawing for a job, for money, for computer chips.
Over some low rise buildings ahead of them, rising high above the line of cheap housing estates, the crafted glass panels and chromed exterior of the Central Agency’s Control Centre building towers above them, over the concrete and broken edges of the city, the light from the slightly smoggy sun reflecting across the bars of polished metal that separates the floors until they sink below the low rise estates. It looks like it’s only a step ahead of them, but really it’s far beyond their reach, in every way possible. In reality the Central Agency Control Centre is miles and miles from them, the centrepiece of the city, its pride and joy. It’s where all the money goes, spewed into keeping it up to date and in control of all the other Central Agencies while the poorer side of the city is given nothing more than a passing glance.
Whiz slings an arm around Mara’s shoulders, guiding her away from the wall that she’s slowly drifting into as she stares up at the building above her. She turns and flashes him a brief smile before looking back to the building. Whiz follows her gaze and squeezers her shoulder when he realises what she’s staring at.
“One day, Mar, we’ll get there,” he tells her. “Just you wait.”
Mara chuckles in reply, but there’s no humour in it. “I doubt that, Whiz. We live on the south side, you really think anyone's going to be looking at us?” She sighs and wriggles out of the grip he has around her shoulders, only to grab his hand instead.
“You never know, Mar! There might be someone who’s been checking the scores, someone in the government out there who’s been paying attention to how brilliant you are!”
Mara shakes her head, laughing just a little bit. “I somehow doubt that, Whiz. No one cares about us.” She looks up at the building before her. “They don’t want to give us anything except their disgust.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Mar,” Whiz replies, but she can tell that he doesn’t believe it either, so she just squeezes his hand and pulls them down a secondary alleyway which will eventually lead them into the main street and from there the centre of the city.
“We still going to Ankora’s, right?” she asks, trying to change the subject. It takes Whiz a moment to realise what she’s talking about, but when he does he laughs and nods.
“I promised didn’t I?” he says and she grins and nods, tugging on him as they go through the alley at a speed that Whiz really isn’t comfortable with, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just allowing her to drag him along, rolling his eyes and smiling as she does.
Next Chapter>>