Machine God: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Final Draft)

Sky Gardens

"You have amnesia?"

"I don't remember my past, or who I am."

"Wow. Sucks to be you."

"It could be worse. I could have ended up a corpse forgotten in the dust, dinner-ready for the rats."

"You're a canister half-full guy," the girl said.

Hecto shot me the next question.

"So, what happened to you in the last months?"

Months? It had been months already? No, I was celled up for two weeks, max. I've seen my training records on the menu. Even Konforma counted down the days, or did she lie?

Still too many variables.

"Are you okay?" Ceedee said.

"I didn't realize so much time had passed."

The mood dampened. I added 'cell life' to my mental taboo list. I was pretty sure many more topics would join that bill.

"I was stuck in my cell until Konforma showed up on my wall-screen and introduced me to my training."

The folks around me sighed.

"Good old Konforma," Glitch said, "one fine piece of technology, although I would have increased her humor by at least 30%. That AI is far too stiff."

"What class has the Bulwark chosen for you?" Ceedee said.

"Sand soldier."

I swear, everyone's eyes seemed to bulge out at the same time. As if someone around the table swallowed all the sound waves.

Was that another taboo topic?"

"Sand Soldier, you?" Hecto said.

"Yeah, why? What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," Glitch said, "is that normally only veteran soldiers get upgraded to that class. I have never seen a noob like you being promoted straightaway."

Ceedee nodded.

"That's great. You'll get deployed in the Lost Lands. It's dangerous and adventurous."

"Yippie," I said with fake enthusiasm.

Glitch patted the giant man's shoulder.

"Our Hecto here is a sand soldier captain, but boy, did he have to slave hard for that privilege. Look at all the scarves he carries."

That was true. I had never noticed it before, probably because they trio had tied my eyes, but Hecto's skin was engraved with scratches, scars and marks sprinkled in-between his tattoos. He carried the body of a veteran warrior. My respect for him leveled up.

"Looks like you have been through a lot."

Hecto shrugged.

"We all have our scars. It's a given in this world."

A general nod went through the group. Looked like every citizen could relate. Part of me wondered what atrocities they had to witness in their lives. Hopelessness hung in the air.

"Have you guys seen many gunfights?"

Most slumped their shoulders.

Ceedee spoke first.

"If that was the case, we wouldn't be here. The goal is to avoid battles."

She flicked a glance at Hecto.

"Only our big guy over here has seen the deep end."

"I did, and it ain't worth going there. We can be glad we have enough food and shelter in our cluster. The Lost Lands are hell on earth."

The group nodded.

My curiosity ignited.

"What exactly is going on outside?"

The question silenced the table. Glitch started to jumpstart his mouth, but Hecto intertwined.

"This is hardly the place to talk about it."

Glitch nodded.

"The tables have ears, man."

Not really, but I got the message. Meanwhile, my stomach yearned for food.

Ceedee heard my groaning and grinned.

"Looks like you need an ammo refill."

"My stomach's a sandpit."

"Heh, then it's about time we hit the spot. Have you heard of Molotov?"

Of course I hadn't.

"Man, you missed out," Glitch said.

"Molotov is the go-to place for the cool kids. He's got food you can only dream of and drinks you shouldn't be talking about. In short, it's the place to be."

"More or less," Ceedee said, "let's show the rookie the sweet side of the Bulwark."

I checked my permission protocol. My current perm only granted me 60 minutes of outside time, twenty-five of which had already passed.

"I've got about forty minutes left."

"That's plenty of time to stuff yourself with awesomeness."

We left the commons, entered the lift and walked out on a higher floor. Through the corridor, I felt fresh air coming my way.

"Wait for it," Ceedee said.

I readied my self for a shock.

And it came, in the most pleasant form possible.

We stepped on a compound without a ceiling. A giant rooftop filled with guards and people.

"Wow," I said.

"We call it the Sky Gardens. The hang-out spot in case you're tired of iron walls."

Ceedee pointed at the skyscraper we just walked out of.

"This structure is the tallest one in the cluster, which makes it the heart of the Bulwark. Most cells and facilities are located in there."

She led me to the rooftop's ledge with the railing. The view was fantastic. Hundreds of concrete structures dominated the skyline, connected to each other via makeshift sky bridges. Ceedee turned full location-guide and I loved every minute of it.

"That's where the higher-ranking citizens live. You'll also find many bars, interesting shops and special places in the Concrete Jungle."

"Special places?"

"Think black market," Glitch said.

Hecto quickly chimed in.

"There's no black market in the Bulwark."

Glitch corrected himself.

"Of course there isn't. Officially speaking."

Ceedee took back the conversation.

"You probably don't have a permission to visit the Concrete Jungle yet, but if you increase your standing within the cluster, you can visit almost every part of the Bulwark."

"Looking forward to that. This cluster is an ugly, but interesting place."

The trio gave me a flabbergasted glance.

"You have to be careful with the criticism, man."

A soldier stood nearby and craned his helmet at our position.

Ears and eyes everywhere...

Ceedee broke the emerging tension.

"Anyways, let us show you our favorite place."

She walked across a steel bridge leading to another rooftop. A bulky shad with neon letters came into view. Stickers and wallpapers were slammed on every side—reminiscent of a bunker after the hip treatment.

The word Molotov glowed in flickering letters.

I followed the clique to the entrance and turned my head around one last time. I swore some of the patrolling soldiers stared at me.