The radiating light from the 5 suns in the heavens didn't touch Axel this morning. It never did. He was 30 meters below the earth line in the "specialist housing" of Megacity-3. Which was the nicest way possible to say, he was a Scab that was displaced like all the other Scabs that couldn't make a living anymore from scrapping and forced to live in a repurposed parking lot that made up the shanty town he lived in.
"It isn't much" statements were understating just how little "isn't much" was. The ramshackle housing was 4 sheets of rusted tin placed against a wall that housed a used dirty mattress stained with old jism and urine stains. The excuse of Anatolia's Federation was that this was "best they could do". The rats slept more comfortably and cleaner if they were still around.
As Axel stood and stretched, the cold from an unknown wetness sent a shiver down his back. He was fully clothed already, and as he picked his brown jacket off the ground he searched for a cigarette to start the day at least a little right.
He pulled out his pack of Bac-E cigarettes and pulled out one for himself, taking note he had 9 left now. Most cigarettes these days were herbal, made from worlds not of this system as tobacco had been outlawed since The Genesis. Recovering addicts used these to help alleviate symptoms of withdrawal. Now? They just give a pain relief effect and are prized trading goods.
He then searched his pockets for a lighter. All of them. Several times over. And with a grunt of frustration at the absence of portable fire he opened the curtain of his shanty.
The denizens called this place "The Underworld". Creatively bankrupt naming? Sure. But it's not like they were paid to just come up with names like "The Heights". If there were a job like that, you could link arms with everyone in line for the position and wrap around Anatolia twice. But conventional naming wasn't the first mission for today. It was finding fire as the wrapped paper of the herbs and spices hung limply from his mouth.
The hundreds upon hundreds of people all clumped together like breading on a fine chicken fillet. It was near impossible to get through the many shoulders and begging hands grasping. Those who subject themselves to the whims of being generous often find themselves becoming one among the crowds that are kneeling on the ground and grasping at others begging for scraps. Time was lost in The Underworld, but you can set your clock according to meal times. It's early. It had to be about breakfast time now. After eating some sleep down here you would wake up in the throughs of give pains.
Axel moved through the crowds with his singular goal in mind. He navigated through known gang areas. He got past the beggars. He could see the stairs illuminated dimly by fluorescent light. He felt like he was home free when someone grabbed the neck hole of his shirt and pulled him down with a rip!
It was a girl with dirt covering the soft features of her face. He didn't have time to take in what she looked like as she stared into his eyes with a panic as gunfire and screaming started erupting from the crowd.
--
Miriam's silk threaded sheets clung to her nude body under the covers with a light sweat. The rays peaking through her sliding glass door looking over Megacity-3 letting in a bit of heat as the light reached up to her face. With a yawn and a stretch, she let the covers slide off of her as she stood. The climate controls set to 71 degrees Fahrenheit she carried about her morning routine in complete comfort in her own skin. She first went to her bathroom to brush her teeth and take a warm shower. She was used to doing things in tandem being a former space flight coordinator.
Former. The reminder in her every motion. She had easy days behind her and for the foreseeable future ahead of her. There wasn't much of a need for her right now until the ports can be reconstructed. But before reconstruction the worm holes had to reappear. Going on a year with nothing to really do she enjoyed a pension and often would either be nose deep in the news cycles for any and all information as to why the worm holes disappeared or was playing her games on her VR rig.
This morning, like every other, she got dressed in a black tank top and fuzzy pants, finished her morning caffee, had a banan for breakfast, and checked the morning headlines on her phone.
"Megacity-3 Blues"
Is Megacity-3 the new Blues music hotspot? We went to Megacity-5 to see.
Nope.
"The Children of Basin School"
Meet the first generation of children in centuries to learn what life was like before space travel!
News was indeed slow.
With the usual avenue of information exhausted for the day, Miriam went to set up her VR rig for her current obsession game, "Fire and Hammer 2," when she heard a knock at the door.
She cautiously walked to the door.
"Hello?" She called out.
As she crept to the door she peeked outside to see no one. Undoing her chain lock she opened the door to catch even a glimpse of someone walking down the hallways. She saw no one, but at her foot on the door mat she saw a blank envelope and picked it up curiously.
Upon examination, there was nothing out of the ordinary except that it existed after a knock on her door by a mysterious stranger. She opened the letter away from her, ripping the side and pointed away from her in case of a targeted attack against her person. She slowly brought it to her eyes and reached within the letter to pull out the paper from the insides to reveal a tri-folded paper.
She began reading, "Hello Miriam. You may not know of me, but I know of you. You had been the first to notice the closing of the worm holes and I wanted to get a direct quote from you. Please come to my lab at the observatory on Yangzhee Avenue tonight at 19:00. Do not bring any devices. I'm being surveilled and I don't trust the Federation with my findings."