by Gary Martin
Robert is lying in his bed, half asleep. He sits up as he spots me.
“Hey, John, how was your day?” he asks.
“Awful, then really awful, quite good, then awful again. You?”
“Really not that bad. They had us stripping down and cleaning up spare engine parts. Basically, my job on Sunspot Two.”
“Good for you. At least someone’s happy.”
“Come on, John, what did they have you do? You seem grumpier than usual.”
“Oh, you know, the job my five-year plan has been leading up to. Cleaning congealed jizz out of sex robots.”
Robert laughs loudly.
“Seriously?” he says, wiping a tear from his left eye.
“Yep.”
“That’s fucking disgusting.”
“I know. I don’t think I’m going to be able to stick it for very long. But I may have found a way out. Maybe. I met a girl, her name’s Flick, and she seems to think there’s a place other than here to go, something called the Utopia project.”
“Those fucking hippies?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Sort of. I didn’t think anything came of it. It seemed made up to be honest. A bunch of tree huggers decided to try get away from the oppression of the ruling classes. They were planning on building a space station near Jupiter or something like that. It was going to be mainly hydroponic bays, so they could be self-sufficient and far away from the world government.”
“I guess the death of the sun sped up their plans,” I say.
“It sounds lovely, but how would we get there? Sunspot Two is in no shape to take us anywhere.”
“And she never will be. She’s being ripped apart for scrap as we speak.”
“It’s a pipe dream, John. A nice one, but to be honest, I don’t think it’s that bad here.”
“I’m still going to figure out a way to get off of this ship. Any way I can. But I’m tired and hungry, and there’s only a few hours left until we’re put back to work. I’ll come up with a plan tomorrow night.”
“Of course, you will.”
26
An hour and a half of sleep is not enough. Not enough for sixteen hours of hard work and certainly not enough to come up with any sort of escape plan. In auto-pilot mode, I get out of bed and put on my clothes from yesterday. I open my bag and pull out my toothbrush and head for the tiny bathroom.
I press the top of the cold tap down, and it makes the pipes above it vibrate angrily. I cup my hands under the faucet, waiting for the cold water so I can splash my face. The vibrating then stops, and a thick brown fluid oozes out of the tap.
The day has not started well.
I wipe my hands on my trousers then try to dry brush my teeth, but my mouth still tastes bad.
Robert has already gone when I walk back in to the room. He may have been gone when I woke up, but in my dazed state, I didn’t think to look. I walk to the small food dispenser and press the single button above it. A grey paste drips out of the nozzle and lands in a small pile on the dispensing tray. Is that food? I’m not sure. But I’m very hungry, and there won’t be another chance to eat until my shift is over. I pick up the tray and stare at the grey paste. Fuck it. I close my eyes, put the tray to my mouth and suck it all up. I’m very glad that it doesn’t have a taste as the texture alone makes me want to retch. I need to keep it down. I need to be able to work.
As I walk through the shitty corridors toward the recreation deck and flesh reclamation, I desperately try to think of ways out of here. I’ve watched loads of films about impossible escapes, one of them must apply to this situation. Nothing comes to mind. I don’t think I can’t even remember the films anymore. The only escapes I’ve managed in my lifetime have been blind luck or other people stepping in. I led most of Sunspot Two’s crew to death and destruction; I guess it seems about right that I’m going to lead the last of us to it as well. I’m not the ideas man. Where’s Tommy Pritchard when you need him? Oh yeah, dead.
The recreation deck still seems like a huge musically mis-matched rave when I arrive. I doubt it ever stops. I walk slowly through the throng and look around for Flick. She’s nowhere to be seen. I have one last scan around the deck as I get to the door of the clean room and, in the distance, through the smog, I see two tiny flashing red dots and I smile to myself. I was beginning to think she was a dream. I decide to go and meet her but that plan is foiled by the guard, who kicked the shit out of me yesterday, opening the door and beckoning me in. I go through into the clean room, but the guard stays outside.
Edward is standing at one of the tables, scrubbing the skin of a used android. He looks up at me, his left eyed blackened.
“I’ll be here with you from now on. I thought because you were now working here, I’d been moved up. Turns out that’s not the case,” he says and points at his eye.
“Shit. That sucks. Happened to me too,” I say.
“I can see that. Best get to work or old punchy out there will start on you again. He doesn’t need much of an excuse. Plenty to do. Twelve Amanda’s during the night. Only two Keith’s though. This one here’s been through the wars. Literally and figuratively. They’re all ex-military. It’s been through the super-heated cleaner so many times its skin is sagging around all the joints.”
“Wait. Why are we cleaning out these things if there’s a machine to do it?” I ask, annoyed.
“Broken now. And they don’t want to fix it. The powers that be reckon they’ll last longer if they’re not super-heated all the time. And no one’s making any spares anymore. Once they break, that’s it. Imagine what would happen if the soldiers couldn’t get their end away? Pandemonium.”
“I guess. But what about the workers? Won’t it be the same if we don’t get the same benefits?” I ask.
“Would you honestly want to stick anything in there? Anyway, you wouldn’t have the chance to get all uppity.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“You’d be shot. Fucking idiot.”
“Good point.”
Sixteen hours go by at a very slow pace. But finally, the day is over and it’s time to head back to my quarters.
“You did well today, John. A natural I’d say.”
“Great. I knew I had to be good at something,” I say sarcastically. “See you in eight.”
I walk out of the clean room and notice that once again there’s a different guard posted. I guess their shift patterns are a lot more reasonable than ours. I walk past him and hope he doesn’t decide to hit me from behind, but I get into the recreation deck without any damage this time. Now to hopefully find Flick. But again, she’s nowhere to be seen. After about half an hour of looking, slowly getting more and more disappointed, I decide to make my way back to my quarters.
I don’t get lost this time. But I wait outside the door for about a minute before I go in. I don’t think I can cope with a cheerful Robert enjoying his new found life. Finally, I go in and look around the room. I don’t see Robert on his bed and I’m glad. I sit on mine and stretch. I look at the far wall, then see Robert sitting on the deck in the corner of the room, naked, except for his underpants. His face and arms are bright red and he’s shaking uncontrollably. I get up and run over to him.
“What’s happened?” I ask.
“I’ve had a bad day,” he replies and continues shivering.
I pull the sheet off of my bed and try to wrap it around him, but he waves it away.
“Hurts too much on my skin,” he says. “They had me scraping the toxic waste from the insides of old missiles. Six of us. No radiation suits. The guards had protection. James, or Jamie, had been doing the job the longest. Two weeks. He collapsed and died in front of me. They dragged his body away like it was garbage, laughing that he would be recycled. That’s all we’re going to be doing from now on. We’re going to die here John. And very soon.” He looks up at me. “How was your day?” he asks, with a pained smile.
“Not as bad as yours clearly. Fuck,” I say.
“Did you come up with a plan? I think you need to come up with a plan,” he says.
“I’m no good at plans, but I’ll do my best.”
“Please do. The Utopia project now sounds … well, like utopia.”
27
I wake up with a renewed urgency to escape. And a renewed urgency to find Flick. Once again, I get to the smoke-filled recreation deck. At the main door, I scan the room. She’s very easy to spot, even in a huge crowd. Her flickering red eyes are like a beacon of hope and I’m drawn to them. She spots me, and we head toward each other.
“You look awful, you posh prick. No sleep?” she says as I get to her.
“Not a lot, no.”
“We need to find a way out of here then. And soon,” she says.
“I’m open to ideas.”
“If I have any, you’ll be the first …”
A soldier grabs Flick’s arm and tries to pull her away. Without a thought I grab the soldier’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I ask him.
“I’m going to fuck her. Who the hell are you to try and stop me?” the soldier shouts back, raising his rifle.
“John, it’s okay, it’s my job. Let it be,” Flick says, trying to diffuse the situation. I stand back and a small amount of fear kicks in.
The soldier doesn’t seem to want to back down though and punches me in the face.
“I don’t need you to fight my battles, you red eyed whore. He’s fucking vermin, like you.” He then hits Flick in the stomach with the butt of his rifle. She bends down in pain, the soldier grabs a handful of her blue hair and starts dragging her towards one of the side rooms.
Stunned from the punch, I watch for a few seconds, unable to do anything. It would probably be safer for everyone if I let this be. She said herself that it was her job. If I was to intervene, I’ll be putting us both at risk. It doesn’t matter. My head goes numb, I feel distant and the warmth of the red mist takes over me. I’m no longer in control of my actions. I grab a half finished bottle off of one of the tables closest to me and start running towards the soldier, hearing some sort of muffled protest behind me.
I jump up and smash the bottle on the back of the soldier’s head, glass and beer spray everywhere. He lets go of Flick and staggers sideways. He turns around and wobbles from side to side. His eyes are now looking in two different directions and he falls to his knees, but he’s still got hold of his rifle and starts firing. I jump out of the way but feel a sharp burning sensation in my left temple.
28
Pain seems to be the only consistent thing to greet me when I wake up nowadays. This time is different. Pain and confusion. Where am I? A tiny room with a double bed and a sink. I put the index finger of my left hand to the source of pain on my left temple and pull it away. There’s a small amount of blood on my tip, but it feels like it’s already scabbing up.
I look down the bed and Flick is curled up in a ball, nuzzled into my left side. I tap her blue hair.
“Hello you. Where are we?” I ask quietly.
She looks up, shaking her head and smiling.
“Why did you do that? Has anyone told you that you’re a fucking idiot?”
“Many, many, times. I often don’t think. What did I miss?”
“Quite a lot actually. He kept on firing. His finger must have locked on the trigger. Then all hell broke loose. He must have killed or injured at least ten people. He was quickly shot dead, and I managed to drag you away in all the commotion. I thought you were dead until I got you in here.”
“Any further to my right and I would have been. What’s going to happen now? Have I completely fucked it for us?”
“Actually, no. They think it was just another soldier losing his mind and going ape-shit. It’s happened a few times now,” she says.
“So, we’re okay. They’re not going to kill us?”
“Nope.”
“Thank fuck for that. I’m usually quite good at ruining everything.”
“No one has ever stood up for me like that, John. Ever. I would have accepted what he was going to do to me. Of all the soldiers I’ve had to fuck since I’ve been here, he was one of the worst. He hurt me a lot. I knew it would be worse this time, because you tried to intervene. The thought didn’t even occur to me that it’d be any other way. I would simply have to accept it. Then you, fucking idiot that you are, do the most stupid thing I have ever seen. I think I love you for it. Promise me, when we have a plan, we’ll escape from here, or die trying.”
“I promise,” I say.
Flick crawls up the bed and looks into my eyes. Hers are still intermittently flickering red, and possibly the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. She kisses me on the lips, I kiss back and let myself go with it. A moment of passion and happiness in a world of complete misery. I close my eyes and want this moment to never end, but all I can see in my mind is Ez. I stop and move away.
“What’s wrong?” Flick asks.
“I’m sorry. I have a girlfriend,” I say and quickly realise how ridiculous that sounds.
“Here? How’s that possible?”
“On Earth, before all of this.”
“Then she’s fucking dead, like everyone else. And don’t flatter yourself, I wasn’t going to fuck you. This place has poisoned that for me. I just wanted to be held, to feel normal. But you’re just like everyone else,” she says, then gets off the bed and walks to the door.
“No, please wait. I have reason to believe she’s still alive. Her dad owns a space shipping company.”
Flick sighs and turns around. I can see tears running from her red eyes.
“Why hasn’t she found you then?” she asks.
“I fucked up. Big time.”
“I believe you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I can’t look at you at the moment, John, I’ll maybe see you tomorrow.”
She opens the door.
“Flick, wait …”
“It’s Annabel,” she says, then slams the door closed behind her.
Oh no. Why did I do that? It’s not as if anyone would care. I denied us the basic human need for closeness and companionship, at a time we both needed it. I feel awful.
I leave the side room and head back towards flesh reclamation. I have no idea how late I am, but it must be at least an hour by now.
The room is empty when I arrive, no guard, no Edward. The commotion from earlier must have been too exciting for them to resist. I decide to just get on with it but, at the moment, there are no Amanda’s or Keith’s to empty and clean. I pull out the hose pipe from under the sink and spray the floors, grab a mop from the cleaning closet and take my time getting into every nook and cranny. I doubt anyone has ever taken this long to mop a floor, but I want to look busy if the guard turns up before the first Amanda or Keith. I’m feeling lower than I did yesterday, and I don’t think I can take another beating.
Edward arrives after eight hours, six Amanda’s and three Keith’s, but a guard never shows. It’s been crazy busy up until then and, annoyingly, I’m getting quite good at the job. It’s so relentless, mind numbing and disgusting that it’s keeping my mind off everything. That’s not a good thing. I’ve already begun the descent into becoming the mindless drone I had feared.
Edward knows what he’s doing, so the last eight hours run like a well-oiled machine.
“We make a good team. Pity it’s in this awful shit hole,” Edward says as the shift draws to a close.
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
Edward rolls up his left sleeve, and down his arm are lots of tiny scars, neatly lined up. He looks at them for a few seconds.
“I stopped counting after about four months. So longer than that, I guess,” he says.
“Shit. How have you managed it this long?”
“A small part of me still wants to live. Fuck knows why. Also, I think I’ve figured a way out of here.”
“That would help.
What is it?”
“I’ll let you know when I’ve finalised the details, but it’ll happen soon,” he says and winks at me. “Anyway, go to bed. See you tomorrow.”
A plan. Someone has a plan. I have to find and tell Flick. Fuck, I have to tell Robert.
I walk through the noisy, smoky, recreation deck once again looking for her red eyes. I hope this news will help her to forgive me but, after another thirty minutes of looking, I decide to head back to my quarters.
29
Robert is looking worse than yesterday. His skin is a brighter red, his beard is stained with black marks and he’s breathing heavily. But he’s lying on his bed and not curled up in a ball on the deck, so that’s sort of a plus.
“Hey John,” he says.
“I’d like to say you look better than yesterday, but that would probably be a lie.”
“I feel about the same and no one died today. Someone collapsed, but they got back up before the guards noticed. That was a win. A small shitty win, but a win none the less,” he says and closes his eyes.
“Do you want me to get you anything? Some of that grey sludge from the dispenser maybe?” I ask.
“I think I’d rather this pain than eat that. I’ll get some later. I can’t face it now.”
I look down at his red and blistered body.
“I’ve found an escape,” I say.
“That sounds vaguely promising. How?”
“The person I work with, Edward, he’s got a plan to get out of here. I think we should jump on it.”
“Really? I’ll believe it when it happens. Do you believe him?”
“To be honest, I don’t even know him. He’s been here a while and must have an idea how everything works. At the moment, it’s all there is. But it’s a small glimmer of hope.”
“What about that girl? Flick was it?”
“I may have fucked that up. She was in trouble, and I sort of went to her rescue. She kissed me and I think she wanted more.”