"Oh think twice, it's another day for
You and me in paradise
Oh think twice, it's just another day for you,
You and me in paradise"
– Phil Collins,
"Another Day in Paradise",
"...But Seriously",
October 1989
***
They had been walking for what seemed like ages through kilometres of wasteland and deserts, and it was getting dark when an abandoned city appeared on the horizon.
So they set out towards it.
"SY-NEY" a long faded sign splayed across the shattered remains of a road said.
They moved into the city, or what used to be a city. The radiation from the nuclear impact craters was faint, but it was there. Their jumpsuits protected them from the hazardous environment, but they lacked their helmets. So they steered clear from areas that Jake pointed out.
They found some abandoned apartments and looted some faded clothes. They looked like a gang of hoodlums from the slums in the surrounding areas. They muddied their packs and clothes a little to reinforce that impression. They looked imposing and dangerous with their new appearance. They decided to spend the night there and wait for dawn to break.
As they navigated through the wrecked city they found groups of country folk moving towards a terminal. They followed them through the cracked roadways and shattered concrete pavements.
Michael told them to stash their weapons somewhere nearby. They were about to be searched and he wanted to take no chances. They did so and they got in line at the terminal and tried to blend in.
The terminals for Oceania were a busy place. Neatly dressed guards went about herding the masses requesting entry to work. They rooted out troublemakers and anyone who looked too weak to work. They didn't give them a second glance.
The life of a labourer on modern Earth was one of daily pain and suffering. Jake thought of his childhood and the tragedy he'd been through and still couldn't imagine what it would have been like being born as a labourer. Even those living in the slums on Luna counted themselves lucky compared to living in conditions like this.
He wished he could help them, but nothing he could do would make their lives any better. He still admired their strength and determination, they managed to survive where many could not.
"Maybe some day."
Siren whispered.
The line moved very slowly, and they spent most of their morning and afternoon slugging it out with others waiting in the long line.
When they reached the terminal's admission booth, a fat officer looked down on them with disgust.
"You four, you look strong enough for hauling. Move it."
The guards searched them for weapons and ushered them inside. They didn't question the fact that they had their now ancient-looking data-pads, labourers were known to smuggle those and use them for 'recreational purposes' from time to time.
They passed through and into the tunnel that lay beyond. They followed the long line of miserable entrants for four kilometres under the ocean. The tunnels angled down and gradually they went deeper, until they reached the monorail station.
The odours were unbearable as they were dumped unceremoniously into the cargo carts and the train took off. They felt it going even deeper under the ocean, it took them thirty minutes until they reached Oceania. The great aquatic dome greeted them, and the smell of phosphorous assaulted their senses.
The smell was caused by the rocks at the bottom of the ocean. Deeply saturated by biological contaminants for millennia, and under insurmountable pressure, the rocks fused with corpses and other maritime biomass that made it to the depths. When first exposed by the massive dome of the city, the smell was unbearable. The ventilation system cleared out most of it near the city, but at the extremities where the labourers toiled, that wasn't so. It was one more miserable aspect of the life of a labourer.
"Stay quiet and do as you are told." Michael warned in a low voice.
Another officer greeted them. This one looked in better shape and was nicer to them, he didn't look down on them at least. He looked like a good person thrust into a position he never asked for. A
lthough looks could be deceiving,
Jake thought.
They marched forward as the officer took their names, and one by one, he stamped their palms with one-day work permits. They all gave him fake names, of course. The officer recognised them as a group and did his best to divide and separate them. They were assigned to work at different locations.
The labourers worked all day for meagre scraps. If you hadn't managed to secure a daily slot you'd most assuredly sleep on an empty stomach. Unless you saved enough for a rainy day.
As they entered the city, they all agreed to meet again at a predetermined location by the end of the day, then they went about their business casually.
The dome was massive and adorned with a massive source of illumination to emulate sunlight, he couldn't see any of the gigantic deep sea creatures that roamed the waters beyond but knew they were there. He wondered what they thought of the giant blob of bright light below them. He didn't get much time to think before the taskmaster appeared and shouted her instructions at them.
Jake worked all day moving crates from one pile to another. It was mundane work and he appreciated the chance to appreciate the life of a labourer. He vowed to change this, one day, if he could. He observed the security cameras and noted their pattern of emplacement.
When a fellow labourer collapsed from exhaustion, Jake tried to help him, but the guards shouted at him to get back to work and hauled the unfortunate soul away. No food for you tonight, Jake thought.
The work day went by quickly, and they were finally done. Everybody lined up in an orderly line awaiting the guards, who escorted them back to the terminal and left them there.
On his way back to the terminal, Jake made sure to check the walls for wires. He swiped his hand along a wall. A guard noticed and struck him for dirtying up the walls, so he moved back in line.
By the end of the day they slipped unnoticed and met again, and they looked beat and rugged like real labourers. Their clothes were filthier and they even started to smell the same.
Jake started by touching a part of the wall. Siren infiltrated the security systems and masked their presence completely.
They were essentially invisible to the security cameras.
"Okay, it's safe to talk now." he said in a hushed voice.
"We need to change out of these clothes. Preferably into something that doesn't attract attention, like servant clothes." Michael whispered.
"And how do we go about that?" one of his soldiers asked him.
"We'll have to sneak into the dormitories. They'll have the clothing there."
"Do you know your way around here?" Jake asked him.
"Yes. I lived here for the better part of ten years."
"Let's go."
***
Michael dropped the guard with a punch to the face. He didn't make a sound.
They found their way into the low security area, and looked around for the lockers. They found what they sought near the common showers.
They rummaged through the dirty laundry, looking for suitable clothes. Instead of servant clothes they found security uniforms.
Jackpot,
Jake though.
"This will be more dangerous, but we have no other choice." Michael commented as he tried to find the right fit for his frame.
After finding the right fits, they moved on. They tried to wash off the work stamps from their palms but it didn't work. Michael told them they would disappear in a day or two on their own.
Thankfully, the security guards wore flexible gloves that concealed their worker stamps. They found no weapons though.
"If you get into trouble, pretend that you're drunk." Michael told them.
"What if someone asks us for our identity cards?" Jake wondered.
"Pretend that you're drunk." Michael quipped.
***
Their imposing frames and military background helped them blend in nicely. Jake imitated their stance and they moved along. His uniform was one size too small and didn't fit perfectly, but it outlined his muscular body, which made him fit in.
As they moved on towards the middle class residence blocks, they got weary looks from the citizens. The security guards weren't highly regarded amongst the middle class either.
The middle class consisted of skilled workers, scientists, teachers, and engineers, as well as other various professions that fit the bill. They lived in better conditions than the labourers but had no rights to speak of. The political class had all the power and the system was a true oligarchy. They had the right to vote in the senate elections, but the candidates were always from the political class. That's just how the system worked.
They saluted a couple of officers on the way, the officers ignored them completely and waved them off as they hurriedly went about their tasks. Jake's salutes were dangerously sloppy and Michael shot him a warning look afterwards. He shrugged and moved on.
They approached the monorail station, and their target was the core.
