The Retribution Initiative

Then I Saw White

-Judith-

The drone buzzed beneath me. A breeze cut through the material of my thin uniform, wrapping my neck in a chilly chokehold. Dark clouds menaced overhead. I hoped it wasn't about to rain. The last thing I wanted was to be trapped in the sky during an acid rainstorm. I chewed the inside of my cheek and tried to focus on my work.

Don't look up. Don't look down.

Cautiously, I guided the drone inwards, careful not to get the propellors too close to the building. They had a propellor guard, but still. My worst nightmare was hitting the building. Just the smallest tap and boom, I'd plummet to my death. Focus, Judith. I took a deep breath and leaned in to start on the next batch of wires. We were wiring the solar panels today, thin sheets of black ferricon sandwiched between hundreds of windows. This was my 76th panel, I think. Or maybe 77th? It didn't matter. I still had twenty more floors looming above me, with at least a hundred more panels to wire. My stomach gurgled. I wish I had lunch today. Ordinarily, Liam and I divided the leftovers from supper the night before. With an extra mouth to feed, there were no leftovers last night. Liam had been smart to set aside his pudding cup for today. I was too hungry last night to be so proactive. He had offered me half of his, but I had refused. I couldn't do that to him. At least Nikolas was getting fed at school. I had often griped about the Cretian-only school we had been forced to send him to, but this was something I did appreciate. Even if the quality of schooling was not comparable to the Endar schools, at least the food was regulated. By law, all school-age children were to receive nutritious meals while in school. It was the only thing keeping my son healthy.

After 31 more panels, my drone's battery was running low. The breeze was getting stronger and I was thankful for an excuse to get solid ground back under my feet. I steered the drone downwards, trying to ignore the plunging feeling in my stomach. After a few seconds, the drone buzzed into the docking station and landed with a satisfying click. I let out a long breath, then climbed off. My legs wobbled. I craned my neck to look up at the unfinished skyscraper, noting with satisfaction the long line of solar panels that crept up it now. High above the skyscraper, the golden current of the aerial highway carried hundreds of vehicles to their destinations. Electrical wires crisscrossed my view like the vines of a jungle. We had no jungles on Hayl, of course. Any forests had been killed out years ago. Only our concrete jungle survived now.

My stomach flipped with a sudden bout of nausea. Grimacing, I wrapped my arm around my torso and dropped my gaze. Too much time in the sky, I guess. For the first time, I noticed my supervisor, Esther Duvereux, standing with a cluster of my coworkers. Her brown Cretian skin looked pale green in the light of her tablet, which she cradled gingerly in her hands. She looked scared. Curious, I wobbled on unsteady legs over to join their group.

A tinny voice spoke from the side-speaker of her tablet. "... live on the scene is Teton Bryce. Teton, what more can you tell us?" The camera-drone zoomed in too far on the news anchor's face as the camera view shifted. He was Endar, pale skin plastered with a layer of cheap makeup that didn't quite cover a smattering of skin blemishes. He was young. His face looked grim. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Clark. Yes, this is Teton Bryce, reporting live from the scene of the Cretian protest." The camera-drone suddenly whirled away from Bryce, focusing instead on a small cluster of Cretians. They huddled on a small strip of pavement that used to be a sidewalk, looking nervous. I didn't blame them. Sidewalks were a treacherous place to be ever since Mamre put in the glass skywalks a few decades ago. Only the homeless and criminals really used sidewalks now, and they were quickly falling into disrepair. Sometimes hovering car drivers used them as an extra lane. The cars rumbled past the Cretians now, getting too close to their exposed limbs, their poverty-ridden bodies. I remembered the Cretian boy who died in Liam's hospital yesterday, and my stomach twinged.